Author's Note: I'm almost proud of myself for how fast I managed to edit and post this chapter. Almost.

A sweet thanks to everyone who took their time to review the last chapter. Xoxo.

Disclaimer: None of it is my fault. If it were up to me, things would've gone very differently.

Paul went in his human form. Against his personal preference. It would've been much simpler to go as a wolf, for once using that fucking stupid mental bond for a useful purpose and eliminating the possibility of being misunderstood. Maybe it would've also been easier to talk about feelings if he was already in his other form — the one that made him feel stronger, untouchable. Yet, despite all his reasoning, Paul stood in front of the door, ready to knock, like a good, functional member of the human society.

It was bullshit, but it was his bullshit to settle.

So he knocked. Ignoring that he could hear Jacob sleeping in his room and ignoring that he could've just as easily entered through the window. He knocked and waited, albeit somewhat impatiently, as Billy wheeled his way from the kitchen, grumbling under his breath about the mess around the house. Paul waited, once more going over the words he had come up with and would not stray from under no circumstances.

"Paul." The greeting was dry, and the man didn't open any space for him to walk inside his house.

"Billy," Paul said, waiting for the question he felt forming on the man's mouth.

"Bella, hun?"

"Bella." Bella. Yeah, Bella.

"Bella is Charlie's little girl," Billy began, frowning. "I never wanted her to get involved in any of this. She's a good kid. When she started seeing that blood-"

Paul tried to hold it in — he did — but speaking of that son of a bitch was not his forte, and after he spent the night hearing his mate moaning in despair as several nightmares plagued her dreams, calling out for that motherfucker, well, the growl escaped way more easily than Paul would ever admit. He lowered his head afterward, though, in an effort to regain whatever little grip he had on his nerves. Billy was an elder — he deserved more respect than that.

Thankfully, he carried on, as if nothing had happened. "Well, boy, I tried to warn her. Girl is stubborn, though. And with Jake... Anyone with a half brain could see he is a fool for her."

God, Paul hadn't been prepared for the awkward conversation to begin right at the door, before he even stepped inside and woke goddamn Jacob up. Yes, everyone could see the boy was a fool for Bella, why did they have to talk about it? No, sure, Paul understood, it was much embarrassing to do it that way. Why not?

"It wasn't meant to be. Taha Aki knows that even after all these years I still don't get why things happen the way they do, sometimes. We cannot argue with fate, Paul. We must simply make the best with what we have."

Speaking with Billy always made Paul feel like a child who had yet to confess his sins. It was an uncomfortable feeling, to say the least. The man had the uncanny ability to speak the exact words needed to make any man or wolf flinch. Which was bullshit — Paul was trying to make the best with what he had.

Billy surprised him when he added, "I guess, what I'm trying to say is, take it easy on the kid, will you? Jake is having a hard time letting go."

He snapped his head back up. "What?"

The man smiled, clearly pleased with himself, rolling his damn chair out of the way. "You boys are such a mess. Samuel sure has his hands full with y'all bullshit, doesn't he?"

"Shut up, old man," Paul said, walking inside while trying to gather his wits back together. "Sam is full of bullshit, too."

"I don't doubt it. Jake is sleeping in his room, as I'm sure you already know — it sure doesn't take a wolf to hear the snores," he snorted, amused at his own damn joke. He turned to look at Paul, a serious look flashing behind his eyes. "Like I said, take it easy on him, alright? He hasn't been sleeping all that great lately."

Who had? With the constant threat of the red-headed bitch hovering over their heads, there was no way any of them got the necessary amount of sleep needed to keep them rested. Paul said nothing. It wasn't like Billy didn't know. Whatever look he had on his face must have convinced the man, though, because his expression cleared once more.

"No fighting inside my house," he added, making motions for Paul to scram. "Go, go."

Happy to escape, Paul walked to Jacob's room, bursting the door open as he got there, inexplicably delighted to see the boy flailing in surprise, arms and legs everywhere. It probably wasn't what Billy had in mind — well, what was done, was done.

"Wake up, sunshine," Paul called, a smile stretched wide open on his face.

"Fuck! Shit, God, Paul, you asshole," the boy cursed, once he saw who was at his door. Lying back down, he rubbed his eyes. "What do you want?"

"To see your gorgeous little face, obviously."

"I swear, Paul, I'll bite your whole face off if you don't disappear in the next five seconds."

"So techy. Honestly, it's like you don't even want to see me."

"I don't," Jake said, his voice muffled by the pillow he had covered his head with. "I really, really don't. Go away."

"Can't," Paul shook his head, even though Jacob couldn't see him. The smile faded from his lips. "We have to talk. It's about Bella."

The hands holding the pillow clenched. "Of course."

"Don't step between my mate and me again," Paul said, wincing internally at how demanding he sounded. So much for a peaceful talk.

"You were shaking," Jacob burst like it was an obvious point, throwing the pillow aside and getting up from his bed. It was the reason Jacob still had so much to grow before he could even think about being half the alpha Sam was — Sam acted; Jacob reacted.

"She's my imprint." It would never not be satisfying to state that. "I cannot hurt her, you inbred dog."

Instead of further angering him, as Paul had expected, his words seemed to deflate the boy like a popped balloon. His shoulders sagged, and he threw his body back down onto the bed.

"Bella was all I had that was mine. Why did you have to imprint on her? You never wanted to imprint," He asked, defeated. "I could be okay with being a fucking wolf — I could. This..."

Paul's first instinct was to backtrack into familiar ground. Fighting was good; fighting was comfortable even. The raw pain in Jake's voice, however, was another matter entirely. He wasn't even wrong — Paul never wished to imprint before Bella. Other than fleeting thoughts he had had on some late nights lying alone on his bed, the idea of a soulmate had never been the goal for him in a way he knew it was for Jacob — or had been, at least. Paul had been there when the boy heard about the whole imprint ordeal, all of them in wolf form as Sam went on and on about the possibilities and responsibilities, and, at the time, Jake's mind had gone straight to Bella and his bottomless-childhood-crush-turned-into-obsession thing for her.

Paul crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back against the doorway while he thought on what to say. On the one hand, Jacob was still young — oh, so young — and had yet to see the terrible price that came with being a shape-shifter, and Paul could remember being that naïve and young, thinking all the bad things that happened were the end of his existence; on the other hand, his feelings for Bella were sincere and pure, and Paul could understand all too well what Bella meant and what it would feel like to lose her.

"Isn't it better to know now then it would be to find out after…?" Paul trailed off, unable to finish the question that was hanging from his lips. It was juvenile, but he could hardly think about Bella with another man without feeling the tell-tales of his imminent shift. Better not to risk it.

Jacob shook his head, not moving to get up from his place in his bed. "After what? Am I supposed to believe there's someone out there for me? Be reasonable, we live in La Push, the chances of me meeting my imprint in here is next to none."

"Considering that there's only you and Embry left without an imprint, I'd say it may not be as far-fetched as we once thought."

"Yeah, maybe," he exhaled. "I wanted her, though. I chose her before all this, you know? I would've been different."

Of course he knew. Paul knew all about choices and the lack of them, be that as a wolf or not. Choosing the person you would spend the rest of your life with didn't seem like such an unreasonable request to have, and if his bloodline had been different Jacob could have had Bella without interventions — it was too easy to see that their paths would've crossed — however, as a part of the pack, one was subjected to a vast plethora of personal sacrifices. Jacob was just starting off big.

"Yeah, I know… I'm sorry, kid." And he was. Sorry that Jacob had his sweetheart ripped from him in such a way; that he had to watch her feel more and more drawn to Paul as the days passed; that the bond between them would force Jacob to settle into a platonic relationship with Bella, where he would progressively begin to see her as a sister; that it was beyond their power to do anything about it.

Jacob covered his face with both hands, rubbing it. "Whatever, man. It's not your fault. This is just a real shitty deal. I'll handle — I have to," he said, defeated. It was depressing to watch, and once more Paul wished they could have avoided that entire discussion.

"Bella is—"

"Bella is in a fucked up place. Bella is climbing into stranger's bikes to feel the rush — so don't… don't even start."

"What?" Strangers? Bikes? What had he fucking missed?

When Paul first began teaching Bella how to ride a motorcycle, he noticed something was wrong almost immediately. Perhaps if he hadn't been a wolf or if he was a little less interested in her, Paul would've let it go — take it as a weird behavior from an equally weird chick. As it was, Bella was his imprint, and Paul wasn't one to let things rest.

He never said anything, but he had noticed. He fucking noticed.

That day, however, had not been the ideal day for them to have another damn lesson. Bella wouldn't know that — not having been on his mind and all that — and Paul was useless at saying no to any request she had, so there they were, at the usual place, riding bikes.

Paul gripped the handle of his own bike slightly more forceful as the scene kept playing over and over in his head. It wasn't as though Jacob had seen Bella climbing into a stranger's bike and riding off into the night with him, but she'd told him the story and Paul imagination was vivid. Extremely vivid.

Something was up, and he was determined to find out what it was, so when she whispered his name under her breath as she sped faster and faster, the answer clicked like a puzzle piece in his mind. Staying in La Push, the bikes, the woods, the cliff... God, the cliff. Bella wasn't an adrenaline junky — of course she bloody wasn't — Paul should've seen it since the start.

Suddenly, his anger was replaced with devastation and resignation. It was the leech. With Bella, it was always the leech.

How stupid Paul had been, thinking he had gained some space in her life, some significance. It was clear she had only ever used him as a means to an end, and he had been eager to comply with all sorts of weird requests from her.

The knowledge hurt more than he thought possible. More than any physical pain he had ever felt in his life, the pain of losing Bella before he ever truly had her was like a knife to the heart. How had he allowed his walls to crumble so quickly for the tiny girl who was finally stopping next to him? How could he have allowed himself to be in that position?

"Is that why you're doing this? To hear the leech's voice?" Paul finally asked, knowing the answer was bound to hurt no matter what.

Bella was clearly shocked to hear the words spoken so candidly to her. Her eyes, her gorgeous brown eyes, were dilated in a mixture of fear and surprise, almost as if she believed her secret would forever remain so even as she whispered his name near a werewolf.

"No-I-"

"Don't lie to me," Paul demanded, although even to his ears his voice sounded defeated.

At that, she looked angry. Bella's eyes narrowed as she focused on his face and surprise gave way to arrogance. When she spoke, it was clear she thought he had betrayed her with his judgmental tone.

"You don't get to judge me, Paul. So what if I want to do this? This is my life, and I'll do with it as I please."

"That's not true," he said, suddenly feeling very old.

"And I suppose you know my feelings better than I do?"

"Yes, I think so. You're not being honest with me, and I think you're not being honest with yourself as well. You want to risk your life, you want to act suicidal, fine, but don't act like it only concerns you."

"It's my life. As you said it, I'm eighteen, I should get to decide what the hell I want to do with myself."

"And that's what you decided to do? Kill yourself in a failed attempt to hear the bloodsucker in your mind? 'Cause I think that's some fucking dumb choice to make for someone who abandoned you in the middle of the damn woods."

"Fuck you, Paul. Fuck you," She spat, burning in anger. "It's my choice."

"God, you are so selfish," Paul said, surprising himself with how much he meant that. Bella was his imprint — he never imagined he could feel so many negative emotions towards her, yet there he was, cringing at her pity party. "Grow the fuck up. Your boyfriend left you; it sucks, fine, but it's not like you're the first person ever to be dumped."

Almost as if he had slapped her, Bella flinched away at his words. Perhaps she, too, was surprised by Paul ability to jump from defeated moron to beyond-angry moron.

"I'm- I'm trying," she admitted, bitterness coloring her still enraged tone. "I'm not selfish — it's my life. I'm not hurting anyone beyond myself."

Did she honestly think that or was Bella that naive?

"Is that so?" he asked, suddenly eager to show her just how wrong she was. If he did that in a purposely hurtful way, well, it would just be another memory Paul would look back and hate himself for in the future — for now, he wanted to see her falling off the pedestal. "If you died Jacob would be crushed, Bella, fucking devastated. You do know he loves you, right? The boy is head over heels for you."

There, he said it. It was obvious, anyway. Bella had to know how Jacob felt about her — despite what she tried to pretend, she could not be that oblivious to the world surrounding her. When he saw the crack in her eyes — the tiny glance at the true depths of her pain - Paul pretended to feel better for it.

"I know," she said, lowering her head as if he had accused her of murder.

But it wasn't enough. No, Paul would dig his grave as deep as he possibly could.

"Then you understand how much he needs you. And your father? Charlie would never recover from your death."

"Charlie was fine before I came here, he would be alright if I were no longer around."

"Every time, Bella. Charlie talks about you every fucking time he comes to La Push. He was nervous for weeks before you moved here, trying to make it all perfect for your arrival. He asked for Jacob to fix the truck for you, bought new things for the house, asked for advice from Sue... That's not how a man who doesn't give a fuck behaves."

He smelled the tears running down her face, even if he couldn't see them but carried on nevertheless. He needed to get the words out, and who knows if he would have the strength to do so if he stopped now.

"What about your mother? Wouldn't she miss you as well?"

"Renée has Phil," she said in a broken cry, almost like she couldn't believe herself.

"From the number of emails you said she sent you during those months, I wouldn't say Phil is all she needs. Perhaps she may not be the mother you wanted, and I get that, but it doesn't mean she loves you any less. She still sends you presents, she still calls, she still cares."

"Shut up. Shut up!"

"No, I won't. You wanna act crazy, fine. But don't play the ignorant girl who has nothing, cause that's not you. I know what it's like to have nothing, you don't."

At that Bella exploded. She lifted her head, tears still running down her face, and glared at him with all the might her tiny body had to offer.

"Why are you here? Why do you even care? You stand there judging my choices like you're some kind of Buddha, but you're not, okay? You're just as fucked up as me."

Her assessment of his character hurt more than Paul would like to admit. He never wanted Bella to see him as a fucked up loser, even though that's how he saw himself most of the time. He tried to be better for her, tried to show her the good side of his dark life.

"Maybe," he admitted, not able to lie to her even then. "But I'm trying, Bella. I'm not judging you, not even for a moment. I want you to do better because I know you can because I believe you deserve better than what you're living now. I see so much potential in you, but you rather throw it all away for the chance to hear the bloodsucker's voice."

Just as quickly as the anger had come, it also went away.

"You don't get it, none of you do. He's all I have. If I let go, if I don't chase it, then he's truly gone."

"He's already gone, Bella. He left months ago, and you risking your life to chase him will not change anything." Paul tried to reason with her. "Edward is gone. He won't come back, it's time you accept that."

The name — his name — seemed to suck the air out of her, leaving Bella grasping for oxygen as she hugged her middle in desperation. Paul wanted to stop, needed to comfort her more than anything else, but something kept him going.

"He was real, he existed, but now he's gone. You're not crazy, you're just hurt."

Bella finally tumbled, like she was about to fall to her knees, but Paul would never let her. He jerked forward and grabbed her by the waist, holding her close while she released a desperate cry. The whine of pain hurt Paul more than he would ever admit, and the breath caught in his throat. It felt right, though. If his mate had to hurt in order to heal, then it was more than right that Paul would suffer right along with her. Bella was not alone, not anymore, not as long as he had blood running through his veins.

"Let it out, Bella. I'm here, I'm right here. I can take it."

His words — his pleading — snapped something in her, because she began to struggle in his hold, hitting his shoulders. Paul refused to let go, however. He tightened his grip, careful not to crush her fragile body.

"I won't let go, baby. I've got you," were his only words.

She hit him and whined, crying hard and loud. It seemed to go on for days, but Paul didn't allow his hold to loosen even for a moment. His imprint needed him, and that made him strong. But after what seemed forever Bella finally relented and went slack in his grip, burying her face in the crook of his neck and wiping her snot in his shirt. Paul waited, patiently holding her upright.

"I don't wanna be alone," she admitted, barely managing to get the words out.

"You'll never be alone," he promised, squeezing her middle and lifting her off the ground for a second.

"I don't mean Jacob or my father. Ed-ed-Edward was my chance at love, at having a relationship... Now I'll be all on my own."

No, she wouldn't. Bella could have anything she ever desired, Paul would make sure of that. Even if it killed him.

"He wasn't your only chance at love. You're young, beautiful, and smart; you'll find your soulmate, baby. That I can guarantee."

And at that moment, Paul felt his heart breaking into pieces as he yielded to the idea of being everything Bella would ever need even though it would destroy his already far too destroyed emotional state. She would never feel anything for Paul — had never felt anything for him other than some misplaced arousal and a suspicion that he would enable her self-destructive tendencies.

That was it. That was the end.

He should've seen it coming.

AN2: Please, don't kill the writer. Please.