I'm sorry for the wait, school has started back up and I'm in accelerated classes so things have gotten a bit hectic for me. Thank you for being patient with me.

THIRTEEN- Tris

I just had to suggest that we hang out at my place. Tristan thought with a sigh as he juggled the many grocery bags he carried in his arms.

He'd woken up bone tired that morning, all he'd wanted to do was sleep all day until Alex came over. He knew she'd be the first one there since she lived much closer to him than Cara did, and he still wasn't sure if Josh would actually show up. But instead of being able to sleep until noon like any other normal teenage boy would be able to on the weekend, his mother had woken him up at the ass crack of dawn and asked that he go out and buy the whole damn grocery store in exchange for making snacks for he and his friends later that night.

He grumbled and grouched to himself as he maneuvered the bags up the front stairs to his home, somehow getting the front door open with a can of string beans as the only casualty. He rolled his eyes dramatically as he reached down for the can as carefully as he could as to not drop anything else, an unnecessary sense of pride swimming through him when he was successful. He smiled to himself and kicked the door closed behind him then he followed the familiar sound of music through the living room and into the kitchen. His face screwed up in confusion as he heard snickering amongst the cheery music. His mom must have had one of her friends over or something.

His jaw just about hit the floor when he walked into the small room that used to be his kitchen.

There was flour everywhere. On the floor, on the counters, on the bar stools, even on the cabinets. Amid the winter wonderland stood two small figures, both giggling in glee as they danced around to the song playing on the flour covered radio. He watched with an amused grin as his mom twirled with her friend. They shimmied along with the upbeat tune, flour dusting out of their hair to join the powder that sat on their shoulders as they did. It wasn't until the mystery woman threw her head back and laughed that he recognized her. It wasn't a friend of his mom's at all, it was-

"Alex?" He asked disbelievingly.

Both women turned at the sound of his voice.

"Ah, honey! You're back." His mother said happily as she reached over and turned down the radio, then skipped her way over to place a flour covered kiss on his cheek. "We were just baking cookies!"

She took bags from his arms, gesturing for Alex to come help her as Tris continued to stare.

Alex smiled warmly at his mom, muttering a sweet, "Yes ma'am" before she came and grabbed groceries from him too.

Her cheeks pinked slightly when she looked up and took in the dumbstruck look on her best friend's face.

"What are you staring at, Dork?" She said, her tone accusing.

Tristan had never seen her look more adorable. It was so different to see her so carefree and dancing, laughing and having fun without a worry in the world. His heart sputtered unevenly as she looked up at him. Her large brown eyes stood out startlingly from the patches of white powder covering her face. He had to restrain himself from wiping away the bit of flour that clung to the tip of her nose. She tucked a strand of hair that'd escaped from her ponytail behind her ear as she took another bag out of his hand, rolling her eyes before she turned back into the kitchen to help his mom put the food away.

His mother's voice broke him out of his stupor.

"Sweet Pea, you let me and Tristan put these things away. Go on and get cleaned up." She commanded lovingly. "You know where we keep the rags and towels. Take a nice hot shower, and I'll throw your clothes in the wash. Tris'll let you borrow something of his until they're done. Right, Darling?"

She turned to Tris, raising an arched brow at her son's dazed expression.

"Right, Darling?" She repeated slowly, barely fighting off a smile.

"Y-yeah." Tristan stammered, scratching at the base of his neck. "M-my basketball shorts and t shirts are in my bottom drawer." He gestured lamely toward the stairwell leading to his bedroom with a hand.

"Thanks, Trissy-kins." Alex said lightly as she made her way past the now beet faced boy and up the steps.

He looked after her retreating figure, hoping like hell that she didn't notice his flushed appearance when she'd passed.

His mother's voice pulled his eyes from the now empty staircase.

"You've got it bad, my love."

He turned to the small, smirking woman. There was that knows-too-much-for-her-own-good look in her eyes again. He groaned as he made his way into the snow globe like kitchen, looking for a sponge from beneath the sink in an attempt to avoid his mother's watchful gaze. She relaxed against the counter, leaning down so that her head was just above the open cabinet door her son was rummaging around in.

"So when are you gonna tell her?" She asked teasingly. "I didn't raise a wimp."

Tristan blushed darker as he pulled out some cleaning supplies and slammed the cabinet closed, still crouching as he refused to meet her gaze.

"I don't know what you're talking about." He said stubbornly.

"Like hell, you don't." His mother scoffed softly. "It's written all over your face, darling. You can lie to me no better than your father could."

His eyes softened at the mention of his late father. Tristan remembered how loving parents' marriage was, and how his father would sometimes try to keep things from his mother, -like how truly weary he was working almost sixty hours a week, or how much ridicule he first faced when they'd moved to La Push- but she always knew when something was up. She could always tell when her husband was trying to be strong on his own and it angered her. Tristan remembered his mother swatting his father in the head with a rolled up newspaper lightly on multiple occasions, demanding that she not be left out of the loop; they were a team, and they would deal with any obstacles together.

Tristan sighed as the memories faded, finally looking at his mom as he rose from the powder dusted floor.

"I can't . . . I can't tell her." He explained lowly, busying himself with cleaning off a counter top as he spoke.

His mother started pouring cleaning solution in the mop bucket as she waited for him to continue.

"There's too much going on with her right now. The bull with her family, and now with Josh . . . I don't want to add to the drama. What she needs right now is a friend. That's what I've always been to her, and that's what I'm going to continue to be as long as she needs me." He finished in a rush.

Nicole Lake looked up from her mopping, taking in the stressed determination in her son's hazel eyes.

"I understand honey," She said sweetly, her voice getting a bit more stiff as she continued, "I don't know what the hell is up with her father. I've tried so many times over the years to get him to tell me why they act the way they do toward that poor girl, but he just evades my questions as soon as I bring it up."

"Have you tried talking to Old Quil or Sue?" Tristan asked as he moved on to cleaning off the other flower covered surfaces around the kitchen.

"You know that that man doesn't take too kindly to me, even after all these years . . ."

"That old fart can't possibly be that stubborn, it's been almost ten years."

"You'd be surprised, darling," Nicole said with a shake of her head. "There are still some people in town who look at me as if I'm an intruder."

"To hell with them," Tristan said with a snort. "What about Sue?"

"I've barely seen her since Harry passed. And whenever I do she always looks so lost in her thoughts that I've never approached her on the subject." She sighed in frustration. "I don't know what's been going on around here, but I know that Alex needs her family. It's not healthy for a young girl to be so alone."

"I'm her family." Tristan barked, no room for debate in his voice.

His mother smiled at his protective tone.

"I know, darling. You've been a good friend to her throughout all of this. I'm proud of you." She said sincerely. "And who knows, maybe someday you'll be family legally and I'll have that daughter I've always wanted."

Tristan's cheeks warmed again at his mom's dramatic sigh, he turned away from her quickly with a mumbled. "Oh, shut it."

He heard his mom chuckle lowly before she continued her cleaning, a silence falling over them as they each got lost in thoughts of the troubled girl upstairs.

0:0:0:0:0:

Forty five minutes and two rolls of paper towels later, Tris and his mother were finished cleaning the flour catastrophe, a huge batch of chocolate chip cookies steaming on a nearby table for their troubles.

Tristan's mom had gone upstairs to clean herself up and to get Alex's clothes started in the wash, but still he listened intently for any sound of her approach before he turned to the enticing plate of sweets and nabbed a large warm cookies from the pile.

He was just shoving the last of the little piece of heaven into his mouth when a voice close behind him caused him to yelp in a very girl like fashion and whirl around.

"Caught with your hands in the cookie jar quite literally, huh Tris?" Alex said with a disapproving smirk, her arms crossed below her chest causing the over sized t shirt she wore to bunch up, her weight leaning heavily on one leg.

Alex's hair was hanging down around her shoulders, frizzy from the hot shower. She wore a pair of his black ball shorts, along with one of his dark blue shirts, and a pair of his white tube socks. She was swimming in his clothes; the shorts reached her knees, the shirt was hilariously huge on her, and the socks reached up past her calves.

"Dnttellmum." Tristan mumbled around the cookie in his mouth.

Alex laughed at the guilty look on his face, then nabbed a cookie from the plate herself before twirling around on one foot and heading for the living room as she teasingly said, "Maybe I will, maybe I won't."

"Oh please, you're just as guilty as me now." Tristan said as he watched the small girl plop onto his plush couch and take a big bite out of the chocolate chip cookie.

"Me? Guilty? Never." She said as she took another bite. "Your mom think's I'm an angel, she'd never believe you if you ratted me out."

Tris rolled his eyes with a smirk, throwing himself down on the other end of the couch as he said, "That's only because she doesn't see you for the hellion you truly are."

Alex gasped in mock horror.

"I'll have you know, good sir that I am an absolute delight. Innocent in every sense of the word."

Tris snorted loudly. "What kind of 'innocent delight' beats the hell out of a girl for looking at her friend the wrong way."

"Hey!" Alex snapped as she swallowed the last of her stolen goods, turning onto her knees to glare dangerously at Tris. "Winnie was asking for it! You guys didn't see the way she looked at you, like there was something wrong with you just because you were different. And then what she'd said . . . she's lucky I didn't break her damn nose."

Tris' insides warmed at the protectiveness that suddenly entered her voice, but on the outside he shot her a disapproving look.

"We were nine, Killer."

"I don't give a flying, rainbow colored fuck how old we were. Nobody talks about you like that." Her eyes burned with long forgotten rage at the memory.

Tris shook his head at his overzealous best friend, trying hard as hell not to laugh at the way her nose scrunched up in anger just like it did when she'd attacked Winnie Longhand that day years ago. It was Winnie's first day at school, she had just moved from the Makah Rez up North and Tris had figured that maybe she'd never seen a mixed kid before by the way she unabashedly gaped at him. He could tell even then that she was full of herself, that where she came from she was used to having what she wanted by the way she looked at her new classmates in veiled disgust and the extravagant clothes she wore. When the new girl came up to him and demanded that he move from his table with his best friends to sit with her, as if he were her newest accessory, he'd just rolled his eyes and ignored her. He didn't see the apparent dark look the girl shot him at his refusal, or the words she'd mumbled under her breath as she turned away from them; Alex did. The next thing he knew he and Josh had to peel their best friend off of the now screeching girl. She'd tackled the taller Winnie with a furious war cry, her pigtails flailing around wildly as she straddled the new student and punched at her repeatedly. When they -along with their startled teacher- were finally able to get her off of Winnie, Alex didn't look the least bit sorry as she was reprimanded. Winnie stood in tears behind the teacher, her expensive hair clips strewn across the classroom floor, her cheeks bright red from the beating. When the teacher told Alex to apologize she immediately refused, and when asked why she yelled loudly, "She called him a stupid Pale Face! I won't apologize for defending my friend, and if she or anybody else disrespects them in front of me again they'll get the same treatment." The fourth grade teacher stared wide eyes at the conviction in her voice, surprised that something so violent could come out of something so small. And of course when she asked Winnie if she'd really uttered the racial slur, the girl denied it. Both were sent to the principal's office, but only Alex had to bring in a parent.

Tristan pulled himself from the memory, a smirk on his face at how proud Alex looked when she'd come back to class the next day.

"What did your dad say to you after they called him?" Tristan asked curiously, he never did find that out.

Alex stretched out on the couch, placing her head comfortably in his lap as she looked up at him and said in a deep voice, "'Good job, kid. Always protect your friends. But don't beat up people! Use your words, Tank.'" She smirked as she continued. "Jake said I should have beaten her worse, just to prove a point."

Tris busied himself with braiding a few strands her soft hair as he asked, "And what point was that?"

"Well that no one could mess with my boys."

"I think you got that across loud and clear, Killer." Tris smiled. "I'm pretty sure that's why Winnie has always hated you."

"Nah, she hates me because of you."

"Me? What did I do?"

"Well, you're mine."

Tristan's eyes widened in shock before his cheeks burst into a brilliant crimson. He glanced down at the girl in his lap, not believing what she'd said. Her eyes were closed, her head lolling to the side on his lap.

"I-I'm yours?" He stammered, trying to ignore the nervous fluttering in his chest. "What am I, a piece of jewelry?"

She chuckled, her eyes still closed she said. "No, you idiot. You're my best friend. I'd kill you dead before you let someone else take my place."

He ran his hands through her hair, scratching slightly at her scalp the way he knew she liked. She let out a small sigh of contentment as she snuggled in closer to his abdomen.

"Like that's possible." He said softly as she slipped into unconsciousness.