AN: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, favorited, and followed my story, and also to those of you just reading along! This chapter got away from me and is stupid long, but crafting the two scenes below in a parallel way was important to me and I hope I've done this installment justice. As always, your feedback and constructive criticism is most welcomed. I hope you enjoy my latest update, and also that you all have a very happy holiday season!

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or the Jonathan Safran Foer quote in the body of this chapter. I have also taken some creative license with the Quileute tribal legends, hopefully in a way that respectfully maintains their integrity.


Cool water sluiced down Quil's body from the showerhead he stood under, shoulders half-hunched and content to let the spray pelt him in his face and run in rivulets from his forehead down the planes of his nose where some dove off onto into the laminate tub below, others curving a trail across the slope of his chin before plummeting towards his neck and chest. His hands braced either side of the wall in front of him, left knee bent forward and right leg slightly behind him. It was the only way he'd managed to fit into this tiny shower at his mother's house since he was sixteen years old.

He hadn't been able to go to his own house. Had been too afraid to be left alone to simmer in his thoughts and in the events of the past few days, though he wasn't faring too well in that respect here, either.

Decades of half-living had planted a kind of bitterness within Quil that had become his constant companion, despite the face he put on for the people he cared about. He had been a happy sixteen-year-old, content in his newfound role as tribal protector and to be palling around with his friends again when his world had tilted on its axis upon imprinting. Seventeen when Claire's grounding presence had been ripped out from under him, leaving him floating adrift and lonely in a soul-deep way he couldn't, didn't want to comprehend at the time. As a teenage boy with the solitary goal of keeping a smile on his toddler imprint's face, he hadn't been able to grasp what being without her would mean in the long run, hadn't been able to think past not being able to protect and watch over her. But as he got older, as his emotional maturity caught up to the supernatural growth his body had experienced, as he watched everyone around him move on with their lives while he existed in a stasis waiting for something that might never happen, he began to realize just what he had lost. A best friend. A companion. His soulmate. Someone to walk through life with in whatever capacity Claire would have chosen. He'd thrown himself into all those other things—work and tribal responsibilities and the pack—for his own benefit; to forget what he had slowly realized he'd lost.

And while seeing her again had reoriented him, while getting to hold her and touch her and breathe her in had gone a long way in bringing him fully back to himself, whoever that was supposed to be anymore, he knew that only time would truly heal the deep, cutting wounds that had grown little by little every day for so very long.

But he only had a week and a half, may not even have that now that he'd gone and let the wolf out of the bag.

The one glimmer of hope that he clung to there under the now-frigid water was that she had promised YaYa she would come back to La Push. She had heard them out, had listened, and, most astonishingly, had still given in to the pull she felt towards him as she hugged him so fiercely in her aunt's kitchen.

He'd been on autopilot since Sunday when Claire had gone back to Forks and, if he was being honest with himself, hadn't really processed the fact that he'd phased in front of her, that she knew what they were to each other, or, hell, that Claire was even really back. It had been easy to lay numb in the woods near her, where he hadn't had to think or feel or do anything but be close to her. Now that he was out of the dense fog that her presence seemed to generate, now that the reality of their situation had settled onto his shoulders, he felt like he was waiting for the bottom to drop out from under him like it always seemed to do.

It didn't help that the reality included Claire having a life three thousand miles away from him. But that would be a bridge to cross once he figured out the more immediate problem of how he was even going to convince her to be in the same room with him after his complete loss of self-control over the weekend.

He hoped his mother, the person who had been there for him his whole life, who probably understood him and his situation better than anyone else, could give him some guidance on that end whenever he felt like he was ready to hear it. Several hours after Tala had convinced him to phase back, his mom had practically thrown herself at him when he walked through her door, her tears of relief at seeing him leaking onto his filthy bare chest as he held her.

"I've been so worried about you, you idiot." She squeezed him as tightly as she could, and though he barely felt the pressure she exerted on his rib cage, he let her warmth seep through him. "I'm so happy for you, Quilly. So, so happy, that you're finally going to get the happiness you deserve. I can't wait to see her again."

He appreciated the sentiment, but he couldn't help but think that the lip service his mom and friends gave to who they thought he was, what they thought he'd been through, was trivial. That their assumption that things would be all hunky-dory now just because Claire had breezed into town for a few days was too easy.

Actually living that shit, when his center of gravity had been torn away? Finding the mental fortitude, the physical strength to get up and live every single day for thousands and thousands of days when all he wanted to do was drown whatever shards were left of his soul underneath his surfboard every single morning he went out into the waves? It would've been impossible to survive the depression he was constantly sieged by without the voice of the wolf in the back of his head chanting at him that she was still alive and living out there somewhere, that maybe one day she would come back and his world would be right again.

Hope and resignation warred within him every one of those days, and now?

That she hadn't left was the one thought keeping his sanity intact.

The smell of freshly cooked bacon and hot coffee wafted over the curtain rod and curled itself into the mist around him, hitting his nose like a sledgehammer and reminding him that he hadn't eaten in days. The fulfillment of such a base need calling to him from across the house effectively knocked him out of his own head, and he was grateful for the perspective.

He flicked the water off and reached around the shower curtain to grab a towel off the rack, slinging it around his waist before padding out of the bathroom to his childhood bedroom, hoping to find some clothes that would still fit.

His mom yelled down the hall after hearing his faint footsteps. "Quil, I made breakfast. Tala said you'd probably need everything I had in the kitchen." He could hear the amusement that seeped into her words.

"'Kay, Ma! Be there in a sec." He shook his head at the thought of his nosey pack-mate as he rifled through a beat up set of chest-of-drawers that hid an interesting blend of Quileute Tribal School shirts and jerseys from his time on the lacrosse team before he'd phased, a slew of too-small cut off shorts, and a couple of dirty magazines he and Embry had stolen when they were fourteen.

His mother definitely hadn't been in here for a long time.

He settled on a pair of plaid pajama bottoms that had seen their better days and opted to forego a shirt. His mom had certainly gotten used to half-naked boys traipsing around her house, so this would be business as usual for her.

As he made his way toward the kitchen at the front of the house, he braced himself for the third-degree he was sure Joy Ateara was about to rain down on him for going MIA the past several days. She had lost her husband to the dangerously cold waters off of the Olympic coast after a storm caught his fishing expedition unawares when Quil had been just a toddler, and he knew that she worried endlessly that her son would succumb to whatever emotional turmoil roiled inside of him, would allow himself to drift away off into the same ocean his father had never been recovered from.

Honestly, he'd never been able to reassure her otherwise because he had always worried about it himself.

His mother bustled around the kitchen, pulling plates down from a cupboard above her head before turning her attention back to the bacon she had frying in a cast iron skillet on the stove top. She turned toward him with a wistful smile as he dragged a chair out from under the worn kitchen table, the metal feet scraping shrilly against the linoleum.

"Jake called while you were in the shower. Thought you might like to know that Claire made plans to go by his house today to talk with Ness. He also asked me to tell you that he expects for you to be at the shop today."

Hopefulness and dread rolled through him, but exhilaration fueled by the idea that Claire hadn't decided to hop on the first plane back east was only slightly marred by the resignation that he would have to admit that Tala had been right.

Quil wouldn't let himself think about the particulars or the outcome of his imprint's conversation with Ness. If he did, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from running over there to beg for her forgiveness, to beg her not to leave. It had been hard enough to restrain himself from utilizing her number that just sat there in his phone, taunting him since the pre-dawn hours when he'd phased back and felt the weight of the electronic device from where it rested against his leg in the pocket of his dirty cut-off shorts.

He could say nothing, do nothing but sigh heavily, a sound that prompted his mother to turn sideways at the counter, hip propped against the cabinet to the left of the stove as she appraised him through her peripherals.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she hedged hesitantly, eyebrows raised and a concerned purse to her lips as she flipped a slice of bacon over in the pan.

Quil sat heavily at the table, elbows propped on the edge as he allowed his head to drop into his hands to pull at still-wet hair. "Not really, no."

"Well, you know I won't push you, but I think maybe you should. I don't have to tell you this again, but you live in your head too damn much. I understood…I understand, but sweetie, it helps to get it out." Joy pulled the meat out of the pan, adding it to a paper-towel lined plate already brimming with food before shuffling over to the table to set it in front of her son. She placed soothing hands on his, pulling them away from where they tormented the roots of his hair.

"Stop doing that. You're gonna give yourself bald spots."

Quil snorted and turned his palms over to clasp her hands in his. He couldn't look her in the eye, was afraid she would see everything he was feeling in them. "Yes, ma."

Her hand raised to his chin, tilting his head slightly and forcing him to look up at her.

"Things are going to work out, Quil. Somehow, someway, they'll work out. Your other half found her way back to you because that's how things are supposed to be. But you have to put the work in now, too, son. It won't be easy, but what's worth having never is."

Quil felt a knot form in his throat at her words and the way her motherly affection cocooned him. His strong, caring mother had irreparably lost the love of her life, his father, and had never gotten over it or moved on, but she still found it in herself to trust in fate, to motivate him to do the same.

"I'm scared, mom. I can't lose her again. But it's her choice. I think…I think it'll break me, but I can't, I won't make her stay if she wants to go."

"Oh, baby," she crooned as she stooped in front of him to pull him into her arms. "All she needs is a chance to get to know the good, kind person that you are, and she won't ever want to leave."

He pulled away brusquely with a shake of his head. "She's known me for five days. Aside from the pull of the imprint and some vague childhood memories she has of me, she has no reason to want to get to know me. Not to mention she probably thinks I have self-control issues. Oh, and there's the tiny fact that she found out I turn into a werewolf her second day of being here."

"Wait, she remembered you?" His mother's tone was one of genuine disbelief. Of course that had been the only part she'd heard. "She was three. Is that possible?"

"She said 'It's you' on the beach. Said she felt like she knew me. I didn't get a chance to ask for any particulars. I fucked up and lost it on Sunday before I could even have a real conversation with her." Quil's hands went back to his hair.

A thoughtful look crossed his mother's face. "Tala said the two of you looked awfully cozy at the bonfire. She figured it was the connection coaxing Claire along, but maybe there's more to it."

Quil growled. "Tala needs to mind her own damn business."

His mother let out a snort, standing back up with a pat to his shoulder and turning to the counter where the coffeemaker had just finished brewing a carafe.

"Oh, hush. That girl loves you. She has Embry, sure, but she also thinks the world of her 'annoying big brother, Quil.' Her words, not mine."

Quil shook his head again, a smile ghosting over his lips. Tala was certainly, for all intents and purposes and in all the ways that mattered, his little sister. After Claire had gone, when he'd come back to the reservation with his tail between his legs after his months-long stint being phased out and losing his mind, she'd been right there alongside Embry, Jake, Sam, Emily, and his mom in their attempt to pick up the pieces. She knew what it was like to lose someone who meant everything to you. Her mother had died when she was in middle school and she'd been thrown into a house with an alcoholic uncle and his abusive wife. Tala had been able to wheedle her way through the wall he'd built up around the deadness inside of him when no one else could, using her snark and wiliness to convince him to get up off his bedroom floor, uncurl the picture of Claire from his clenched fist, and start living again, even if it was only going through the motions. After Quil managed to pull the pieces he had left of himself together, Tala had moved in to the spare bedroom in the Ateara house at Joy's insistence until she and Embry could afford their own place.

Quil had flunked out of high school. He'd missed too many classes and, even if he hadn't, he didn't have the emotional fortitude to make it through. But after several years of relentless prodding by his mother and Emily to finish his education, he gave in. Tala had gone to the community college with him, earning credits towards her teaching degree while he got his GED. He then took economics and business administration classes after Jake finally finagled his, Embry's, and Paul's help in legitimizing his auto-repair business. He and Tala had carpooled every day, partly because they were both broke as shit back then, but mostly because it was Tala's way of pushing him along, of keeping him afloat and making sure he didn't disappear again like they all knew he wanted to.

Quil confided in Tala the things he imagined he would've told Claire had she been around to hear them. And Embry, the amazing person that he was, never said a word or gave a single complaint about all the time his best friend spent with his imprint.

Joy sat down across from him, balancing two mugs of coffee in one hand and her own breakfast plate in the other. Quil reached out and took a cup from her as he scarfed down a handful of the bacon in front of him.

His mother looked at him amusedly from over her coffee, taking a sip of the hot liquid before setting it on the table and folding her arms across her middle. "So."

"So, what?" The words came out of Quil's mouth garbled as he continued to shove much-needed sustenance into his face.

"So, tell me about her. Tell me about Claire." Her soft curiosity lightened his mood, and he couldn't help the beam that began on his lips and radiated out over his face. As much as the thought of her started a roiling, nauseous feeling in the pit of his stomach (mostly because of the sheer terror he felt that she would flee the state), the memory of the way her laughter lit up her face, the way his truck still smelled like her this morning when he'd picked it up from Sam's, and the feeling of her hand molded into his all fought against his melancholy, demanding a place in his heart.

"Uh-oh," his mother lilted, her arms unfolding and hands clasping as they came to rest on the table in front of her. "I know what that look means."

"What look?" Quil tried to be indignant, but failed miserably. The Claire who had teased and laughed with him planted herself firmly in the forefront of his mind, and he knew the stupid grin on his face was like a giant spotlight on how deliriously happy he could be if only he would allow himself to believe it was possible.

Joy didn't respond, just leveled him with a look that said she knew what a bullshitter he was.

He leaned back in his chair, a laugh escaping his mouth as it mingled in with a sharp expulsion of breath.

"Claire is…" He paused, blinking unhurriedly as he searched for a word that would describe the girl—no, the woman—who had upended his life so completely. "She's an amazing person, mom. Just like I knew she would be. But…more, somehow."

When Quil didn't offer any more information, Joy began peppering him with questions. "Where has she been? What's she been doing?"

"They finally ended up somewhere near Atlanta around the time Claire started high school, I guess. She never left. Works as a nurse at some fancy hospital. From her brief mention of it, it sounds like a pretty intense gig, but she's so smart. Confident."

"So she takes after her great aunt, then. Maybe Sue could help her get a job at Forks General."

"Mom, I think that's jumping the gun a bit, don't you?" He couldn't deny that the thought of Claire being in the Pacific Northwest on a permanent basis planted a strange, incredible feeling in his chest, but it was too much wishful thinking and definitely not grounded enough in reality. He couldn't think of anything beyond earning her friendship for the time being, and that would probably only happen if he was lucky.

Joy waved her hand at her son dismissively, but dropped the train of thought for another uncomfortable topic. "I take it her being snuggled up to you on the beach Saturday night means she's single?" She waggled her eyebrows at him and he rolled his eyes.

"What? I'm not getting any younger, Quil, and I'd like to meet at least one of my grandchildren before I die."

Quil nearly swallowed his tongue as his mother laughed at the alarmed expression on his face.

"Oh, don't look so constipated, Quil. I was just kidding. Sort of." She winked at him and turned her attention back to her coffee, oblivious to the inner turmoil she had sparked in the man sitting across from her.

Quil would be lying to himself if he didn't admit that he'd entertained such an idea, along with many other completely inappropriate and borderline-delusional ones in the past few days. Now that he'd seen her and held her, gotten a whiff of that delicious scent that was so uniquely Claire, it was much easier for him to imagine how she might fit into his life now. An image of her laying on his couch, in his clothes, watching television. Brushing her teeth in his bathroom. Her waking up slowly beside of him, a radiant smile that was reserved just for him blooming in her eyes as she lay naked under his sheets. The images spiraled from there. Claire walking towards him down a makeshift aisle along the spot on the beach near the tide pools that had been theirs, dressed in white. Her round and swollen with his child.

Thoughts that were completely foreign to him and felt almost wrong after years of only knowing the young girl she had been bombarded him. He knew that part of it was the spirit warrior inside of him adapting to her needs as an adult, but part of it was just him, just Quil, finally being able to envision his life with the Grown-Up Claire that had evaded him for so long. The one he'd realized at some point in the dirt in Forks he'd been waiting for and pining after since around her eighteenth birthday that he hadn't been there for. And even though he hadn't been there, something inside of him had recognized the change in her, even from so far away.

Like his mother could read the turn his mind had taken, she murmured, "I'm sure it's strange for you to see her as an adult after only knowing what she was like as a kid. Holding on to that image of her for so long."

"Yeah," Quil huffed. "But…it was almost like I imprinted on her all over again. Saturday, on the beach. Only it was more this time. Deeper, somehow. I don't know. There aren't exactly any legends that tell a guy what to do when his long-lost child imprint comes back after twenty years, y'know?"

His mother opened her mouth to reply but a car engine rumbling down the driveway cut her off. "You expecting someone?" he asked her as he stood up and walked to the kitchen window that overlooked the side of the house, offering a view of the end of the road. Before she could answer, he got a look at who was headed their way.

"Oh, Jesus. It's the peanut gallery."

Paul waved from where he'd taken up residence in Jared's passenger seat, an annoying smirk on his face as the SUV Jared called the "Dad-Mobile" came to a stop just outside of the garage door.

"What are they doing here?"

His mom shrugged and moved to the fridge, pulling out a carton of eggs before Quil's hand stilled her. "They're not staying and you're not wasting your food on them."

She gave him a look that told him she was going to do whatever she wanted, and continued on pulling ingredients for scrambled eggs out of the fridge.

Quil cut his eyes at her and made his way over to the front door, opening it just as Jared had raised his hand to the doorbell.

"What?"

"Hello to you too, sunshine," Jared said as he pushed past Quil to walk through the small foyer towards the kitchen. "Thought you'd be in a better mood, all things considered," he yelled over his shoulder before turning back to Quil's mother. "Mmm, something smells good, Mrs. A!"

His mother laughed at Jared's thousand-watt smile and boyish charm despite the fact that he was pushing forty, though he didn't look it.

Paul rolled his eyes as he stepped over the threshold with a friendly punch to Quil's shoulder. Even though the two were effectively middle-aged men and fathers of teens, they still acted like idiots once out from under the influence of their wives.

"Hey, lover boy." Quil absorbed the hit and the taunt with a scowl, the space between his eyebrows pulling down into a crease at Paul. Paul put his hands up with a shrug, eyebrows waggling sarcastically. "Someone's testy this morning."

Quil trailed along behind his former pack brother into the kitchen, shaking his head and wishing he'd just gone home, though that probably wouldn't have done him any good. It was likely that either Sam or Jake had sent Dumb and Dumber to check on him; to keep him away from the vicinity of Jake's home on Third Beach where Claire was set to end up at some point today.

"Joy, if I may be so bold, you are looking mighty ravishing this morning."

His mother giggled at Paul's overtures, and Quil landed a kidney punch on him as he walked by to reclaim his seat at the table. "Stop hitting on my mom before I call Rachel to come beat your ass up for giving me a hard time."

Paul heaved out a groan at the contact. "That's gonna bruise, dude."

"Eh, you'll live."

Paul plopped down in the chair on Quil's right as Jared laughed at the two of them, sneaking up beside Quil's mother and grabbing a piece of scrambled egg straight out of the pan.

"Jared, if you don't grab a seat and get out my kitchen, you're not eating here." She smacked him in the arm with the handle of her spatula, but the smile never left her face. Jared tipped his head, chewing the egg in his mouth as he crossed the room in three long strides, pulling out a chair with a sweep of his arm and lowering himself theatrically.

"Laying out of work this morning?" Quil asked the two men on either side of him.

"Could ask the same of you," Jared mumbled out around what was left of the egg in his mouth. "But for your information, classes don't start until 8:30 so I have half an hour before I need to be at QTS." Jared was the science teacher for the high school aged kids at the tribal school, much to the amusement of his pack brothers and the chagrin of his children.

"I'm here to drag you into the garage this morning, boss's orders," Paul grumbled. "He told me to tell you that your absence has left the books upside down, but we all know it's a lie and he just doesn't trust you not to go caveman on your imprint when she comes to the res today."

Quil glowered at Paul but didn't comment. It would be easier to give Claire the space she'd asked for if he had some way to occupy himself, anyway.

"Speaking of, how you doin,' Quil?" Jared leaned back in his chair, left ankle resting over his right knee as he leveled Quil with a serious gaze. Paul crossed his arms, face becoming serious at Jared's question as he hunched over the table, and Joy stilled her movements at the stove.

Quil took a deep breath, running a hand over his face and wondering how many times he was going to have to spit out his misery before the universe took pity on him.

"Terrible." Honesty was the best policy, Quil supposed.

"Looks like it. I can't imagine…" Paul trailed off from his line of thought. Despite his reputation as a sarcastic asshole and the decade that he'd been removed from his wolf, he still couldn't utter a word about being without his imprint.

"She's back, though," Jared muttered. "And no matter what happens, you know she's safe and she's healthy."

"But is that enough, Jared? Would it be enough for you to know that Kim was surviving? It sure as hell wouldn't cut it for me with Rach."

Jared contemplated Paul's words and hesitated for a moment before responding. "It's better than the alternative of not knowing anything at all, though, surely?"

Paul opened his mouth but Quil beat him to the punch. "As entertaining as I'm sure listening to you two old ladies bicker about my feelings would be, and as much as I appreciate your concern, I don't have the bandwidth for this shit right now. So I'm gonna finish my breakfast, go home and change, and head in to the shop. You're welcome to continue this later when I'm not around." With that, Quil shoveled another handful of bacon into his mouth, ignoring the dubious glances the other three in the room shared amongst themselves.

An awkwardly quiet fifteen minutes ensued, and after promising his mother he'd call her later, Quil traipsed out the back door of her house with his former pack mates in tow. Jared gently punched his shoulder, leveling him with a sympathetic glance before hopping in his car to head towards the school.

Paul clambered into the passenger seat of Quil's truck as the latter eased himself behind the steering wheel. Staring at the dash, Quil considered his next words carefully, afraid to say them out loud but unwilling to lie to himself.

"I think you're right, P. I don't think knowing she's safe and surviving is gonna be enough."

Paul nodded, pursing his lips and tapping his fingers on the door handle. "What are you gonna do?"

"Hell if I know. What would you do?" He couldn't help the desperation that colored his plea.

"Knowing that I could have the life I've had with my wife? Shit, I'd do whatever I had to. I'd beg. I'd plead. Fuck it all, I would stand outside Rachel's window with a boombox singing love songs if I thought for one second it would do me any good. Granted, she wasn't a kid when I imprinted, either, but Claire's not a kid anymore, Ateara. And it's not exactly like you knew her for very long as a kid, all things considered." Paul looked thoughtfully out the windshield before he continued. "If it was me, I'd take it slow. If she'll agree to meet with you, go into it trying to be the best friend that you can be to her and treat this like a new opportunity. You don't really know each other aside from the connection of the imprint. You're adults with lives and baggage. She's not the two-year-old you imprinted on. You're not the wide-eyed teenage freak you were when you imprinted. It's a fresh start. Yeah, it's fucked up, it's been a bitch for you, but you can't change the past and it's a fresh start, nonetheless."

Quil eyed Paul skeptically before shaking his head slowly. "You're getting soft in your old age."

"Shut up, I'm trying to be helpful," Paul growled, but his tone softened. "I honestly can't imagine what you've gone through and, despite what you might think, you have a whole pack behind you that just wants you to be okay."

The words humbled Quil in a way that he wasn't totally comfortable with, and he muttered out a quiet thanks.

Intentional machismo overtook the atmosphere in the cab of the truck as Quil turned the key in the ignition.

"By the way, Ateara, if you ever tell anyone about this conversation, I'll deny it until the day I die and have Rach blackmail her brother into running you till your nose is in the dirt."

"Well, if you ever tell anyone that I'm agreeing with you over Jared about something, I'll be forced to murder you."

They nodded stiffly at each other, and with the understanding settled between the two, Quil pulled out of the driveway and headed towards the center of the res.


Thirty minutes after her phone call to Ness, Claire had pulled herself together with a shower. After washing the funk out of her hair and off her body, and shaving legs that hadn't seen the sharp end of a razor in far too long, her stomach growled angrily, demanding a greasy breakfast from the diner down the street.

She was pretty sure that she had felt more emotions in the last three days than she had over the course of her entire life, and it was discomfiting. She'd come to a tentative, perhaps delusional peace with the idea that vampires and werewolves were now a part of her reality, though she had to admit that she'd put the notion on the backburner in order to prioritize the way learning she'd been imprinted upon had impacted her.

But Claire was innately simple despite the chaos she'd found herself in, and bacon and a Coke would do wonders for her mood. As she walked into the restaurant that looked like it had seen its better days, sneakers squeaking against the aged vinyl floor, the cheery oldies music floating through the jukebox calmed her inner turmoil and made her feel more like herself. She sat on a round stool situated along the bar that ran half the length of the place, making eye contact with the middle-aged waitress who was shouting orders at the line cook behind the window to the kitchen.

"Hey hun, what can I getcha to drink?" The toffee-skinned woman popped the chewing gum in her mouth and pulled a pad and pen from the black apron tied around her waist.

"I'll have whatever cola you've got, please."

The waitress nodded, plopping a laminated menu down in front of Claire before she disappeared around the corner of the dining room.

Claire looked around the room with an appraising glance, picking at a loose thread protruding from her last pair of clean yoga leggings as she made eye contact with the female half of an elderly couple that sat together in a booth by the door. She nodded politely at the woman and the sweet, smiling scene the two presented before turned her attention to the menu, eyeing the breakfast platter combo with a glint in her eye as her body reminded her once again that it had been too long since she'd eaten. She placed her order when the waitress came back over and then turned her attention to her phone.

Jules had sent her a few random messages over the past couple of days, memes about hot men and jokes about getting laid. No word from her sister, who was likely caught up with board meetings and product launches and her latest boy toy, as usual. Her dad was generally clueless and her mother was luckily too preoccupied with a crop of new middle school students to be concerned about Claire, so aside from a few "I love you" texts she hadn't gotten anything else from her parents.

Emily had called and left a voicemail, asking her if she was okay and making herself available to talk. Claire sent a brief text to her aunt to let her know she was alive and planning to head to the Black house for the day, promising to come by within the next day or two. Her cousin Noah had sent her a Facebook friend request, so she accepted it and scrolled through some of the pictures he had up. Most of them were devoted to his new girlfriend, his imprint, Jenny, but Claire caught herself looking for one face in particular as she swiped through the sole, sparse album Noah had. His friends' list was a bust, too. Quil Ateara apparently didn't have a profile for her to stalk, and the pang of disappointment surprised her.

She realized then that she had his phone number. That he had hers. She pulled up the too-brief exchange of messages they'd shared on Saturday night when she'd done as he requested and texted him as soon as she'd arrived safely back in Forks.

Hey Quil! This is Claire. Made it back to Forks. See you at brunch. :)

Hey there. Glad you made it safe. Sleep tight.

You too! Good night.

Good night, Claire.

Reading those short messages that she'd memorized every character of over the past couple of days had her grinning like a fool. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, the ghost of a message itching within them, but she snapped her phone off hurriedly. She couldn't talk to him until she talked to Ness, until she knew more about this thing that was going on between the two of them.

A small part of her, that was less of a small part and more of a hulking, pulsating demand if she were being honest, desperately wanted contact with the man she hadn't been able to stop thinking about. But she would wait.

Claire wasn't an idiot. She knew he was hurting. Had been able to feel it somehow. And it had affected her own temperament, too, like she was outwardly projecting the vibes she could feel coming from him out in the woods. But he had stayed away. He had respected her wishes and given her space, even if it hadn't been very much space. She couldn't fault him. If there was even a shred of truth to what very little she'd been told about wolves and imprinting, or her laughable and fruitless internet research on the phenomenon, it was probably a miracle that he'd even been able to stay as far away as he had.

Especially considering how long he'd been without her, if the terrifying notion that she was somehow connected to him so deeply was to be believed.

A plate filled with hash browns and an omelet was plopped unceremoniously in front of her, followed by two servings of bacon and the Belgian Waffle she'd ordered. Effectively pulled out of her own head for the time being, she scarfed down her meal like it was her last, earning curious looks from Cora the waitress and a few of the elderly gentleman that sat in the stools to her left.

After she'd finished her meal and laid a twenty on the countertop to cover her bill and the tip, Claire once again found herself driving down the highway towards La Push. The ride wasn't as enjoyable without the company she'd had on Sunday, but the greenery soothed her, the lush forest along the shoulder of the road looming over the car as she sped down the two-lane road, cocooning her in a swath of cedar and spruce trees.

As soon as she crossed the border onto the res, Claire felt like a weight had been lifted from her chest. She wondered if it was because her body instinctually knew she was getting closer to where it wanted to be. Closer to him.

Her GPS directed her to turn left onto an unmarked road that was so naturally situated within the trees she almost missed it. The long gravel driveway twisted and turned its way over a mile into the woods before opening up to a vast clearing. A sprawling two-story log cabin was situated toward the edge of what appeared to be a small hill face on the far edge of the property, providing a beautiful scenic overlook of the Pacific Ocean and the sands of Third Beach.

Before Claire had pushed the gear shift into park, Ness had come out of the double entryway nestled under picturesque bay windows, waving a hand at Claire before crossing her arms and leaning into one of the logs supporting the large awning that covered a wrap-around porch.

As she stepped out of the car and began to walk towards the house, Ness's smile brightened at her. "Hey, Claire! It's nice to see you."

"Hi Ness. Thanks again for agreeing to meet with me. You have no idea how much I appreciate it." Claire ascended the steps to the porch, and Ness bent over and pulled her into a hug.

"Of course. I know this probably isn't the way anyone would've had you find out about all the supernatural mess going on around here, but that's life, right?"

Claire laughed and nodded as she followed the brassy-curled woman through the entryway and into the open foyer. A staircase to her right led up to the second level of the house, and beyond that she could see a sitting area with oversized leather couches and a massive television mounted above a stone fireplace. To her left was a spacious bathroom and the next door appeared to house the laundry room. Ness led her down a long hallway into an open-concept kitchen, breakfast nook, and dining area that held a farmhouse table identical to Emily's except twice as big. Likely to accommodate Jacob's ragtag pack of wolves, Claire thought amusedly. Another set of bay windows behind the small breakfast table allowed a view of the back patio and the expansive yard beyond it that sloped downward and eventually coalesced into the sand of the coast.

"Ness, this place is absolutely amazing. You have a beautiful home." Claire thought her words were a gross understatement, but Ness just waved her off.

"To be honest, the main reason I love it is because Jake is here. Growing up in the family I did, the house and the surroundings don't mean much. Of course, the two of us designed it and built it, and we're raising my babies here, so it feels more like home than anywhere else I've ever lived."

"Have you always lived around here?" Claire stood in the middle of the kitchen, her hands fidgeting with the sleeves of her jacket.

"We bounced around for a few of years before I went away to school, before Jake and I got together and he took over from your uncle Sam when he retired from the pack, but we were never away from La Push for more than a few months at a time when I was young. I was a full-grown adult by the time I was seven, plus my family doesn't age, so we couldn't stay in Forks full time or people would've gotten suspicious."

"Wait—you fully matured in only seven years?" Claire's interest had been piqued. "How could your body possibly support that kind of rapid growth?" The words had come out before she could stop them, and Claire clasped a hand over her mouth as Nessie laughed. "Oh my God, that was so rude of me. I'm sorry!"

"Don't worry about it, hon. I'm an oddity even in the world of vampires and shapeshifters. I certainly can't blame you for being curious." Ness laughed again and half-turned to the back counter where a brewing machine sat nestled into the corner. "I'm gonna make myself a cup of tea, can I make one for you? I have a wolf-pack-sized selection in the fridge and pantry, too, if you'd like something else."

"A cup of tea would be fantastic, thank you."

As Ness set about pulling out mugs and tea packets, Claire took a seat at a stool underneath the tall bar that separated the kitchen from the breakfast area. Resting an elbow on the counter and propping her chin on a closed fist, Claire asked, "So, where's the rest of your brood today?"

"Jake already went to work out at the garage this morning—said something about needing to get a handle on the books since Quil's been MIA and he usually takes care of all that."

Claire tried valiantly to pretend that this tidbit about Quil didn't interest her greatly, and if she failed, Ness didn't mention noticing.

"Charlotte's in Kindergarten at QTS this year and my grandpa and Sue took Will for me so you could have my undivided attention this morning." Claire blushed, but Nessie just smiled and winked at her. "I'll be honest, it's nice to have a break. I rarely have the chance to think with two little ones running around, not to mention the horde of overgrown wolf-children that always seems to congregate here," Nessie finished with a dramatic roll of her eyes and the two women shared a snicker.

"That would explain the grocery store you have packed into this kitchen, I guess. I don't understand how it's physically possible to eat so much and look so…" Claire drifted off, unsure how to continue without sounding like a moonstruck teenage girl.

"Attractive?" Ness said, humor lacing her tone.

"Yeah! It's insane how ridiculously good-looking they all are. It's enough to give someone an inferiority complex."

"Don't let any of them hear you say that. Most of them are too cocky for their own good as it is."

Silence fell over them as Ness stirred sugar into the steeping tea. Claire sat studying the natural patterns in the marble countertop, tracing a line with her finger as she thought about how she wanted to begin the conversation she'd come here for.

Sensing her discomfort, Nessie tried prompting her. "So, Claire, what do you want to know?"

Wracking her brain to no avail, Claire decided to start with the truth of the immediate moment and go from there. "Well, where do I even start? I don't even know what to ask, if I'm being honest. How do you know what you don't know?"

Ness smirked as she sat a steaming mug of tea in front of Claire.

"I guess I can start with the basics. You'll have to bear with me, though. Jake's better at telling the legends themselves, and I've only explained this craziness a couple of times before, but the circumstances were a lot different. Brady's imprint Farrin had grown up in the tribe hearing the stories. Elise, Rafe's imprint, basically fell in love with him the moment they set eyes on each other when they met at Gonzaga, and she barely heard a word me and Jake told her outside of the whole 'soulmates' thing."

Claire nodded, running a finger around the rim of the cup in front of her before picking up and taking a cautious sip of the hot liquid. "What exactly is an imprint? All I could gather from Wikipedia is that it's either learned behavior in animals during a critical period of development or a process of ingraining sexual preference into the brain."

Ness choked on the tea she had just taken a swallow of, spluttering a few dibbles down her chin. Claire looked up at her sheepishly, murmuring a quiet "sorry" before burying her nose back into her own mug.

After wiping her chin and taking a moment to compose herself, Ness took a restorative breath before answering. "The tribe does everything it possibly can to keep that kind of information secret, so you wouldn't find anything about it online. It's different for shifters, though. Jake describes it as gravity moving when the wolf sees that person. The imprint becomes the center of the wolf's universe; you're each other's soul mate."

The thought of herself as the center of Quil's universe, especially considering her absence from his life, made Claire feel sick, and it was her knee-jerk reaction to reply defensively. "So some supernatural yoo-hoo takes two random people and decides they belong together? No choice, no questions, just…wham, bam, thank you, ma'am? Seems kinda like a recipe for disaster."

Ness looked over Claire's expression with an appraising glance. "The imprint doesn't create a bond out of nothing, Claire. It's just one of many ways of taking two puzzle pieces and fitting them together in the way they were intended to be."

"I'm sorry if that sounded insulting. It's just…it's a lot to wrap my head around." Claire thought about what she'd been feeling the past couple of days, wondered if it was normal. "Is it just the wolf that feels it, or does the…imprint…do they feel it too? I could feel Quil out in the woods near my hotel the past couple of days. And I could tell that he was…upset. It's a little creepy, to be honest."

Ness shook her head, a smile ghosting across her face. "Yes, that's normal. An imprint can tell when the other one is near, maybe not as strongly or as prevalently as the wolf can, but it's there. And Claire, just a fair warning, wolves are possessive, even though their human side generally tries to tone it down. To be honest, considering how hard the last twenty years have been for Quil, I don't think it's something he can help."

"I don't mean him physically being out in the woods. Objectively, should that be weird? Yes, probably. All things considered…I'll cut him some slack on that. I was talking about being able to feel what he's feeling. This intense, incessant need that I feel to be around him. Maybe that shouldn't be weird either if you take into account the people turning into wolves and the whole 'vampires are real' thing, but...it is."

"I would say think about it like this. You have someone in your life that you can look at and have a whole conversation with without speaking, right?"

Claire immediately thought about Jules and nodded.

"Right, okay. So just imagine this connection as something like that. He's your soulmate, as daunting of a prospect as that might seem right now. It makes sense that you'd have a heightened awareness of whatever's going on with him, that you'd be drawn to him, and vice versa."

Ness leaned over the countertop across from Claire, resting on her elbows and looking thoughtfully out the window. "I've always felt it, from the very beginning, from somewhere deep in my heart, in my soul, in my bones. When I was little, Jake was my best friend. Still is now, but back then, that's all we were. Even then, though, I could feel the pull to him. Could feel it change and morph as I got older and I needed different kinds of emotional support. I always trusted him in a way that I didn't even trust my own parents, to be honest, and everything that followed in our relationship, every stage we went through after that—it was built on that foundation."

They were silent for a few minutes while Claire chewed on this new information and the emotions that it stirred within her. Ness had gotten to live with her other half, to grow up and flourish alongside of Jake, while she had been left with only dreams about hers that materialized as a cold, haunting presence in her life. "Is it weird that I'm oddly jealous of you?"

Nessie furrowed her eyebrows and cocked her head. "Jealous? Why?"

Claire was uncertain of how to put what she was feeling into words. "You know that quote, 'Sometimes I feel my bones straining under the weight of all the lives I'm not living'? Well, I sort of feel that way, only about the life that I didn't get to live. I feel like I've missed out on something that was vitally important, and it's too late to do anything about it. It's…it's crushing me to think about what should have been."

Ness was silent, unsure of what to say as her gaze bore into Claire's.

"What was it like, Ness?" Claire whispered, looking sheepishly into the counter and fiddling with her thumbs.

"What was what like?"

Claire gulped, feeling like she was about to cry, but she persisted. "What was it like to grow up with Jake? I was—I had a great childhood, I really did. My parents, they were great for the most part, if not a little distant, and I had Tallin, but Ness, I was so lonely. I never understood until now, but, just…what was it like?"

"Mostly amazing," Ness finally sighed, laying her palms flat in front of her along with the honest truth. "Don't get me wrong, we've had to fight through a lot of growing pains and blaze a lot of trails to get to where we are, but I've always had Jake to lean on, even when it was him that was giving me grief." She sniffed a laugh as her eyes glazed over, lost in some memory that Claire felt like she was intruding on. "I'm sure you would've gone through the same thing with Quil had you been here, but we went through a lot of heartache making the transition from best friends to what we are now. There were no legends to tell us how the imprint would turn out, and I think at first Jake, and probably my parents, too, expected that we'd only be friends. But how could I have possibly grown up around the perfect man for me, a man who knew everything about me—flaws and all—yet still cared so deeply, and ever have hoped to find anyone else who could compare?"

"Surely it must have been weird for you to fall for someone that much older than you, someone who grew up babysitting you and witnessed all your childhood bullshit?"

"It wasn't weird but there were times during my physical transition from adolescence to being a teen, when my hormones started going out of whack and I found myself wanting Jake in ways I'd never thought of or felt before, that it felt…wrong? Add to that my mind-reading father and Jake freaking out because he could feel my changing emotions and it was almost enough to leave me with a permanent complex. I went away to college shortly after I turned six—I was physically and mentally in my late teens, but emotionally I was so torn up about being separated from Jake that I barely survived my first couple of months. I ended up staying for four years, though, just to get away, partly to figure out who I was outside of the shadow of the imprint and my family but mostly because my relationship with Jake was so awkward at that point. Neither one of us was willing or able to progress things along, even though the imprint was pushing at us. We still talked every day and I saw him on my breaks, but being apart made us realize how important we were to each other, gave me the chance to finish maturing, to be responsible for myself, to meet other guys and realize how lacking they were. I think the separation was harder on him than he'll ever let on, but he knew it was what I needed and in the end, it worked out. He stayed with me at Stanford for a week after I graduated to help me pack up my apartment. Things finally came to a head and we could barely keep our hands off of each other for even a moment. We moved in together on the res the day after we got back and the rest is history."

Claire wanted to feel embarrassed at the connotations in Nessie's tone, but the adoration that bled through the woman's words told her everything she needed to know about the two-way street that was imprinting, and it just served to make her more heartsick.

"It probably would've been similar for you and Quil. A longer process, but it would've changed right along with you as you grew up. But Claire, the only thing I can tell you, the only thing I can give you to hold onto, is that everything happens for a reason. You may not know what it is or understand it, but you were where you were supposed to be. The same can be said for now. You're where you're supposed to be, here in La Push, and you've got an opportunity knocking on your door that I would advise you to think long and hard about before you pass it up. From experience, I can promise you that this is one of those things that's worth the heartache."

Claire wasn't sure that she had that kind of faith in fate, but outside wanting to know more about the particulars of what had happened so long ago, the past didn't, couldn't matter much to her now, otherwise it might suffocate her.

And if the past had been a bitch to her, ignorant and unaware as she had been, there was no telling how it had treated him.

"You said it's been hard on Quil. How bad was it, Ness?"

Ness shifted her weight from one foot to another and back again, the space between her brows creasing in her discomfort. "I think maybe that's a conversation you should have with him."

"Ness, do you really think he'd actually tell me?" Claire asked skeptically, crossing her arms over her chest and looking across at the Alpha's imprint incredulously.

"Probably not, though if you needle him enough he may feel compelled to give in. I don't want to put words in his mouth or speak for him. I just know what I saw; what Jake told me about being in his head back then."

Claire looked at her expectantly, cocking an eyebrow and tilting her head impatiently.

Nessie sighed in resignation. "Fine. But it would be easier just to show you."

"Show me? How?"

Ness came around the counter, stopping in front of where Claire had swiveled towards her on the stool. Lifting her hand towards Claire, she asked, "May I?"

Claire nodded, confused, and Ness placed a warm palm against her cheek.

Suddenly, Claire's vision went blurry and supernaturally-contrived images rushed through her mind.

Quil and Jake on Second Beach with Ness and Claire, a scene that zeroed in on the tenderness in Quil's eyes as his imprint called his name from where she sat in the middle of a tide pool. Quil in the middle of an airport terminal, screaming Claire's name in terror over and over again. Looking thin and waif-like, lying curled up in a ball on the floor of some kitchen clutching a photo of the two of them. Off to himself at a bonfire, staring out into the ocean looking miles away. Tears in his eyes as he lamented to a grown-up Ness that no matter how much he hurt or pined or cried, Claire didn't even know he existed. Ness and Jake walking into his destroyed living room on the eve of Claire's twenty-first birthday, seeing him hunched over the mantle of the fireplace with an empty fifth of whiskey in his fist and another shattered against the floor beside of a broken picture frame that entombed the smiling face of a three-year old.

Claire jerked back, pulling Ness's hand away from her face. "No more. I can't…" But she couldn't finish the thought. With a heaving sob, she fell against Ness's shoulder and cried harder than she ever had in her life, and as Ness wrapped comforting arms around her shoulders and pressed her face into the soft cashmere cloth of a sweater-cla shoulder, she felt every bit of the pain she could see that marred Quil's face in the images Ness had flung at her. "How am I supposed to fix that, Ness?" she moaned. "How do I fix twenty years' worth of…misery…when I don't really even know him?"

Ness rocked her back and forth as she made shushing noises, wishing for infinite wisdom in that moment and coming up short.

When Ness didn't respond, Claire could feel indignation rise up in her chest alongside of the overwhelming sadness that had settled there. "Why didn't he look for me?" she bit out after a wet sniffle. "If I mattered so much, if I was so important to him, why didn't he come find me?"

"Claire…" Ness hesitated, eyes narrowing as she hugged her tighter. "I don't know if I'm the right person to be telling you this part."

"Ness, please. I—there's so much shit that I've been hit with and I feel like I'm finally on the verge of understanding," she mumbled into her shoulder before pulling her face back to look the woman in the eye. "But I can't get all the way until I know all the facts. It's too…heavy…at Emily's, and she can barely think about my mom without crying. I need the cold, hard, messy truth. No sugar coating. But I don't really know anyone else here so, just, please. No one suffering like Quil was, no one with that kind of devotion to someone, just lets them go. I need to know what happened."

Nessie sighed, but nodded her head in resignation. They pulled away from each other and Ness took a seat on the stool next to Claire. "He did look for you; he's been looking for you since you left. They all have. When you were young, they got close, but your parents always managed to stay one step ahead. Quil, he—he lost himself to the wolf for a while. It broke him every time he got close only to lose you again. I think eventually he and Emily resigned themselves to the fact that your parents weren't ever going to change their minds."

"You're telling me that my parents, my normal, average, human parents, somehow managed to outsmart a tribe of super-wolves, a police chief, and wealthy vampires with limitless resources? That's a joke, right?" Claire's hands splayed out in front of her in a questioning stance, eyebrows raised in disbelief.

"It's not that simple. My aunt Alice, the one who can see the future, well—she can't see imprints directly so there wasn't really a way of tracking you down. Her finding you this time was nothing short of a miracle, only aided by decisions that you made for yourself. And think about what your dad does for a living, Claire. He's a forensic accountant. He managed to erase all of his financial records to go off the grid, and your parents changed your name after the last time Emily reached out and-"

"W-what?!"

Ness cringed, her mouth opening and closing before she gritted her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut, a look of unease settling over her face.

"Ness…what do you mean, my parents changed our last name?"

"Your name is…was…is Claire Locklear."

Claire sat up ramrod straight, a slapstick look on her face that she was sure wouldn't be any different than if Ness had just told her she was born a unicorn.

"Oh." She couldn't make anything else come out of her mouth. If the pain on Quil's face in Nessie's memories hadn't been a turning point for her, now she really did have something to be supremely angry with her parents about.

Nessie attempted to cajole her out of her stupor. "Claire, are you okay?"

"I don't know," Claire answered honestly.

"I wish there was something I could do to make this easier on you, Claire, but I don't know how."

This Claire Locklear was a stranger to her, and yet it represented everything she'd lost, every lonely, longing feeling that she hadn't understood, every strange phone call in the night, every dream of the past life she should've continued living.

But Quil had been somewhere in her subconscious her whole life, entombed in her mind by the feeling of companionship and safety he'd provided when she was still little Claire Locklear. While she hadn't remembered him, per se, she'd remembered the way he made her feel. Just as Nessie had grown up and found nothing in the world that could compare to the deep, soul-abiding comfort of her imprint, neither had Claire Walker.

And suddenly, like an atom bomb had gone off inside of her and incinerated every instinct aside from the one now coursing through her veins, Claire knew what she needed.

"Nessie, I have to go. Thank you so, so very much. For everything."

Claire slid inelegantly off the stool, squeezing Nessie's hand before breezing toward the front door.

"Claire, are you sure you're okay to leave? I've dropped a lot on you today and I don't think—"

"I need to see him, Ness," Claire threw over her shoulder, not breaking her stride. She missed the smile that lit up Ness's face but caught her next words loud and clear.

"He's at the garage today. It's right off the side of the main road; you can't miss it," Ness called out after her.

As she reached her rental, Claire turned back toward Ness with an emphatic look of gratitude in her eyes. After waving a parting farewell, she eased into the car, turned the engine over, and after reiterating her decision to focus on the things she had control over to herself, she finally gave in to what she now knew her subconscious had been yearning for her entire life and sped off towards the heart of La Push.