Exams are over and I am officially on break! I had three exams back to back (my hardest ones, of course) on Tuesday so I spent the weekend studying instead of writing. Now that the Christmas holidays are here, I finally have time to sit down and actually write Paul and Audrey's story! I have the rest of their little tale planned out, but it has yet to actually be put into words, so this break is going to be spent writing!

Best of luck to the rest of you who are dealing with exams and the upcoming stress of the holidays!

Chapter 21:

"You are not Atlas carrying the world on your shoulder. It is good to remember that the planet is carrying you." - Vandana Shiva

"So… what you're basically telling me is that…" Isaac shifted uncomfortably in his chair as the four people around him exchanged glances. He was a bit unsettled at having people stare at him so intently, but he struggled to keep his cool. "Because of something in your genetics that goes way back to before colonial times, you guys have the ability to turn into a bunch of mythological creatures on a daily basis… all because of a family of vampires that lives in Forks."

"Yes."

"Shape-shifters. Like actual, real-life werewolves."

"Uh huh."

"On top of that, there's something called an imprint, which is what's making my sister act so weird." He wrinkled his nose, brow furrowing in confusion. "Some weird-ass cosmic connection that she has with Paul that makes them – what, soul mates? And… and Paul was the one who hurt her, not a bear, because he was so upset at what she had told him about how she had been –" He cut himself off, fingers struggling to go through his tangled hair. "And the only reason that you all know about it is because you heard it in Paul's thoughts – because that's apparently a thing you guys can do."

"Yeah, basically."

"And now, Leah Clearwater, a woman that I've been told has no tact whatsoever, is on her way to my house to try and talk some sense into my sister. To stage a – what, an intervention or something? For what? To get her to talk to Paul again?"

"That about sums it up."

Isaac buried his head in his hands and slumped in his seat, utterly overwhelmed by the ridiculous information he was receiving. Struggling to stay in his spot and not bolt out of the door, he asked, "Why are you even telling me about his stuff? Shouldn't this be some sort of sacred tribal secret that you have to keep from outsiders?"

Billy was the one to answer, the wheels of his chair rolling across the floor in Isaac's direction. "Your sister is Paul's imprint, Aiden, which makes her a part of the pack. That extends to you and Thomas as well. Granted, we don't usually tell people the whole story under circumstances like this," Behind him, Jacob and Sam exchanged a glance, "but I suppose that desperate times call for desperate measures."

"Right." Isaac had heard enough; it was time for him to get the hell out of there and head home as fast as humanly possible to give an apology to his sister. "Well," he drawled, roughly shoving back his chair and pulling on his jacket. "This was fun, but, uh, you guys are fucking crazy so I'm just going to go and not come back."

Emily stood and moved around the table, appearing sympathetic as she placed a gentle hand on his arm to stop him from leaving. "Aiden, I know that this is difficult to believe, but you need to understand –"

He yanked his arm away a bit harsher than he meant to. After all, he liked Emily – he was just a bit… freaked out at the moment. But just because he liked them didn't mean that they weren't completely nuts. "No, you guys need to understand that you need to check yourself into a mental institution," he said. "First of all, what you're talking about is biologically impossible. It can't happen. End of story. Secondly, I don't know what you guys think Leah can do, but with the way that Katherine has been acting lately, I wouldn't be surprised if she chews Leah up and spits her into a thousand tiny pieces. My sister is – " he hesitated. "She isn't well, but that doesn't mean she won't fight back if she feels like she's been backed into a corner. Like a… like a caged animal."

"We have to do something," said Jacob. "You want your sister to get better, don't you?"

"Of course I do," he shot back. "Of course I want her to get better, but whatever is wrong with her doesn't have anything to do with – with…" The looks on the faces of the four people in front of him were so open and honest that he let his voice trail off. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do anymore. I don't know if I can trust any of you."

Sam rested a heavy hand on his shoulder; he could feel the heat through his clothes. "You don't have to take our word on it. We can prove it."

oOo

The universe is a strange place. People are even stranger.

There are people in the world that put ice in their cereal, periodically check their refrigerators even though they know that no snacks have materialized in the half hour since they last looked, and even after a waiter has told them that a plate is hot, they still have to check for themselves. There are people who talk to themselves and some who answer themselves; there are those who can't go to sleep without triple-checking their alarm clocks and have to match their shoes with their shirts. Some people stay in the same job for forty years and some choose to switch careers on a whim when they get bored. People flinch at the sound of nails on a chalkboard but love the startling sound of thunder; they run away from insects but will willingly shove their faces into bug-filled flowers.

We all have those little quirks that make others give us strange looks - those unexplainable habits that we have no explanation for - but how is it possible that so much of the human population loves to dwell on the unknown? We ignore the facts and focus on the unexplained because we love unanswered questions. Some things in this world can never be explained – those things which make us curious by nature only because they are mysterious and unexplainable. What happened to the lost city of Atlantis? What was the original purpose of Stonehenge? Do aliens exist? Is God real? Is heaven? What about hell? Are ghosts real?

Are monsters?

These are all questions that we will probably never know the answers to, but we still love to think about them because… well, who knows why we love the unexplained? All of our weird habits and thoughts of the unexplained go back to a basic part of our evolution that craves answers. Maybe most of the human population is just a bunch of masochists.

But each of these questions has been answered – the answer may not have been proven, it may be heavily debated, and it may not be correct, but there are people out there who have proposed answers to the world's most difficult questions. Except one – a question which cannot be answered by scientists or philosophers, by medical professionals or psychologists:

How is it possible for the heart to hold so much?

The answer, which has plagued the world for centuries, now became clear to me. The truth is that the heart cannot hold much at all. Once it reaches its limit, feelings burst forward like a tidal wave, emerging from the body in bouts of rage or joy or terror or sadness. The question, I now realized, didn't involve how much the heart could hold. Instead, the question should have been: How much can the heart hold before it bursts?

The answer? Not much. As had become very clear over the last three months, the heart couldn't hold much at all.

Still in my pajamas and curled up on the sofa with a computer on my lap, I scrolled through a series of news articles that were making me feel worse than I already was. A permanent headache pounded in my skull as I scanned through the headlines. "Mob Boss De Palma Still at Large" and "Authorities Baffled" and "No Leads" and "FBI Receiving Criticisms from Concerned Citizens." It was ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. How could one man cause so much trouble for so many people?

Slamming the laptop shut with an angry huff, I shut my eyes and roughly rubbed at my temples. Yet another problem on my already lengthy list of things I needed to worry about. But, in retrospect, those problems were all the way on the other side of the country. While they were important, maybe they didn't necessarily hold precedent over more pertinent issues. Like my own physical wellbeing, for example.

On the rare moments that my brain actually settled down enough for me to sleep, my dreams were haunted by nightmares. Most food wouldn't stay down and everything tasted the same – bland. Constant headaches that felt like my skull was splitting in two separate pieces. Chest pains that felt like my heart was being torn to pieces. Lungs that chose to stop functioning correctly that made it hard to breathe. Complete exhaustion. Always distracted, thoughts never settling, a permanent sadness that came from nowhere and just burst through my nervous system. Something was seriously wrong with me and I refused – refused – to believe that it had anything to do with Paul.

Or that… that thing called an imprint.

I had pieced together my own conclusions over the last few months, calling together my own knowledge, the things that people have said, the story that Billy Black had told so long ago, and some basic internet research that basically made my skin crawl. Overall, I had concluded five things:

1) Werewolves and vampires existed and La Push was full of them. I didn't know who, exactly, was a werewolf or a vampire, but I knew enough to make an educated guess and pinpoint the ones with this… what would you even call it? A skill? A disease? I didn't know, but I did know that they were apparently everywhere, and it frightened me to think about how long I had been right in the monster's lair never even knowing the danger surrounding me.

2) It had something to do with their ancestry – at least, if the stories were to be believed. Something in their genetics that traced back all the way to one person – the former Quileute chief. Something was wrong in their genetic tree that caused this… weird mutation. And no one seemed to have any problem with it, acting as if it was normal.

3) There was a really weird thing called an imprint that apparently existed, and it somehow involved Paul and myself. He had… imprinted on me? Was that the term that Sam had used? I didn't fully understand what it was, but I had concluded enough to know that I didn't want to touch that mess with a forty-foot pole.

4) Imprinting was… scary. Messy. Controlling. Overbearing and possessive and positively dangerous. Something that no sane person would ever want. One article I read had described it as being unconditionally bound to another person for the rest of your life – some profound connection that is, according to legend, the way that the Quileute werewolves found their soul mates. No. Not going to happen. It was sick and disgusting and… and almost abusive in some ways that it was described. I mean, who in their right mind would want to be tied to one person by some cosmic power that dictates the person you're supposed to be with without any input from the parties involved? That's right. No one. And all of those arguments about fate were bullshit.

5) As a matter of fact, it was all a bunch of fucking bullshit.

And yet…

If it was any other situation, I would have self-diagnosed myself with a case of Stockholm Syndrome. But it wasn't really any other situation and my physical pain was much too real to stem from something that was fake. Right? Or maybe I was just a fucking idiot. I don't know. It was a tossup at this point.

But the problem was… would I really have to spend the rest of my life being so miserable because I had shunned one person?

As it was, I would never find out, if only because of an unwelcome visitor that came to the house at around noon.

BANG BANG BANG. "KATHERINE, OPEN THIS GODDAMN DOOR BEFORE I BREAK IT DOWN!"

I nearly jumped half a foot in the air at the sudden sound of Leah screaming on the other side of the front door. I hadn't heard anything from the La Push pack or anyone that dared to associate with them in months, so Leah's voice was difficult to immediately recognize until I peeked hesitantly through the peephole. Oh, fuck, I thought. What the hell is she doing here? "Go away, Leah!" I called back, leaning against the door as if to keep it shut by sheer will.

"I'm not leaving until you open the door and talk to me! I'll stand outside your house all goddamn day if I have to!"

I knew that she wouldn't hesitate to follow through on her threat if she felt the need to do so, so I tried a different tactic. "If you don't leave now, I'll call the police and have you arrested for trespassing and loitering."

There was a snort of derision – or maybe it was amusement. "Good luck with that. My mom is dating the Chief of Police so he won't arrest me."

She was lying. She had to be lying. It wasn't possible that these people actually had their claws locked into every person in this stupid city. Was that how they had gotten away with things for so long? Because they even had law enforcement covering their tracks? "I'm not opening the door."

"Oh?" Her tone was daring; almost… menacing, in a way that told me she knew more than I did. "Are you really sure you don't want to open the door? I mean, if I were you and I had no idea where my brother was, I'd kind of want to find out."

Now that caught my attention much more than it should have. I shoved open the door so harshly that it banged against the outside wall of the house, nearly smacking directly into Leah's shoulder. I was sure I was a hilarious sight in my bathrobe, hair wild, several inches shorter than Leah, and probably not half as threatening, but the sudden way I stalked toward her, shoving my finger in her direction in a way so psychotic and manic, made her take several small steps back in surprise. "Where's my brother?" I snapped, the thought of Isaac being taken away a horrifying thought at the forefront of my mind. "What did you do to him? If you hurt my boys I swear to God I will kill you!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" It was clear that Leah's words didn't have the desired effect, so she immediately began to backtrack. "Aiden is fine, they're both fine! Thomas is at school apparently, but Aiden skipped. He came to us of his own free will, completely worried about you and with nowhere else to go." She shrugged casually, but her eyes didn't stray from my frantic posture. "Smart kid. Had absolutely no idea what was going on but had enough sense to know that we had something to do with it."

With those words, I suddenly realized two things: Leah's use of the words 'we' and 'us' confirmed one of my worst suspicions, showing me just how much she knew about the situation. She was one of them. I could see it now, completely clear like it was written all over her face. "Oh, God, you're one of them, aren't you?" I said in realization, using the frame of the door to support myself before I collapsed.

She winced, but didn't really look apologetic. "Guilty as charged." My eyes flickered up to her. "First female shape-shifter in the pack. I'm a bit of an anomaly, to be honest."

The scientific part of me was screaming to ask questions, to figure how this worked and try to make some sense of it in my head. But another part of me was still trapped on another statement she had made. "You said 'had,'" I stated almost dumbly as my eyes narrowed. "Aiden had absolutely no idea what was going on."

Her eyes widened and I knew that she had realized her mistake at the same moment that I did. "I didn't tell him anything," she was quick to say. "It was all Sam; he called Billy and they all decided that it would be better for everyone if we just explained it to him. If you want someone to blame, don't blame me."

My eyes flashed dangerously. "You told him about this nonsense?" I practically screeched, suddenly filled with enough energy to rival a thousand suns. "Have you lost your fucking minds? What is wrong with you people?" The door slammed shut behind me and I stalked forward toward her, my own safety and pain long forgotten. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"

"Uh…" Leah's eyes flickered back and forth, searching for some means of escape from the crazy woman that was quickly converging on her. "No?"

I let out a sound of frustration that sounded almost like a banshee and opened my mouth to say a few things that I knew I would never be able to take back, but she never gave me the chance.

"He was going to find out eventually!" Leah suddenly shouted before I could speak. "He came to us looking for answers and Sam and Emily knew he wouldn't believe anything we said unless he knew the truth. That's why I'm here. Because we all believe that you deserve to know the truth, too. Don't you have questions? Don't you want to know why you're feeling this way and how to make the pain stop?"

"All I care about are my boys," I automatically responded, snarling like a lioness attempting to protect her threatened cubs. "We moved to this place to get away from the drama and the monsters and I would rather die than to see Aiden and Thomas go back into this… this… mess!"

"It isn't ever going to end!" she finally shouted in an attempt to raise her voice higher than mine. Her words were so strong that they actually made me pause. "That pain is never going to end unless you give me the chance to explain. It doesn't matter where you go in this world or what you do to try and forget about all of us or this place – it is never going to stop!" Then her entire demeanor changed; instead of determined and defensive and ready for a fight, she just looked drained. "And I think, deep down, you know it."

Neither Leah nor myself were willing to back down, our eyes unmoving from the other in case a sudden, threatening move against the other was made. The silence between us was almost tangible, permeating through the air and wrapping around me like a wave of icy water that I couldn't resurface from until she spoke again.

"You know as well as I do that this isn't some stupid illness or a broken limb that you can treat with a cast and a handful of antibiotics," she said tiredly, and I suddenly realized how exhausted she looked – like she hadn't slept in ages. "I know you're hurting and afraid and you have every right to want to stay away from us, but you aren't the only one in pain here. It's hurting us – all of us – and I want everything to be better again. I can help – we all can, if you let us. Please."

With a few well-placed words and several looks of pain and sadness, Leah had successfully tossed the ball in my court – extended the metaphorical olive branch in a half-hearted attempt at peace. I could have easily taken a few steps back and slammed the door in her face, headed over to the phone to send a call to Monique to tell her that our safety had been compromised and we needed to vacate the premises immediately…

But what would be the point? It would just be pointless – a waste of time and energy that would be better spent elsewhere. Besides, somehow I knew that Leah was right when she had said that the pain would never end. That deep, burning ache in my chest was never going to go away no matter how far I traveled or how much I tried to make myself forget – not if what I thought I knew about imprinting was true. "How would you even be able to help?" I finally asked, wearily. "There isn't anything you could possibly do or say that could make things better."

Her eyes glistened with the tiniest bit of triumph at winning this tiny battle between us – but I tried to tell myself it was only because I had let her win. "You're right," she agreed quietly. "I can't help you and I can't take away your pain, but I know someone who can."

A layer of goosebumps when over my spine. "No," I immediately replied with a shake of my head, knowing exactly what her words implied. "No way."

"You don't even know what I was going to say!" she scowled.

"I knew exactly what you were going to say!" I snapped back, crossing my arms over my chest as an icy gust of wind flew across my skin. "If this has something to do with that imprint nonsense that I keep hearing about, then you can just turn around and walk right back to wherever you came from –"

"Wait a goddamn second," she interrupted, eyes blazing. "You know about imprinting? How?"

"I –" Swallowing, I shifted awkwardly on my feet, feeling like I was guilty of some sort of social faux pas. "I had heard the word a few times and I was curious, so I did a little research on it." A pause. "Suffice to say that I didn't like what I found and I don't want anything to do with it, so if you're just going to tell me that this whole thing is about imprinting, you might as well just leave."

"Let's back up a few steps here," she said. "What do you think imprinting is?"

"I know it's something I don't want any part in." When Leah just stared at me expectantly, I continued, "Some type of mechanism you people think you have. I… it has something to do with finding some poor girl who you think you're supposed to spend the rest of your life with. Or something. But it's controlling and possessive and literally the basis of an unhealthy relationship!" I added as an afterthought. "Why are you shaking your head at me?"

"Because you don't have any idea what you're talking about," she replied. "Katherine, I don't know what you think you found out about imprinting, but I can assure you that it probably isn't entirely accurate."

"I don't care if it's completely accurate!" I exclaimed, tossing up my hands in the air in exasperation. "I know enough to know that it's… it's sick!" I spat, "and you're all fools for going along with it!"

Something inside Leah burst at that moment, and I saw a glimpse of the she-wolf hidden deep inside of her. "For fuck's sake, Katherine, will you keep your mouth shut for one goddamn minute to let me explain?"

Too taken aback to even respond, I kept my mouth shut and simply stared at her.

"You aren't the only person here who was hurt by imprinting," she said sternly, something dangerous stirring behind her eyes. Her gaze, however, didn't falter.

And it finally hit me, even though I know I should have realized it ages ago. "Sam imprinted on Emily, didn't he?" I said knowingly, watching as Leah's cheeks took on a slightly red tint. Still, she nodded. "That's why you always look so… uncomfortable around them…" and why Paul was so adamant on defending them on the night of our 'not date.' "And Emily, your cousin, just… just went along with this. Destroyed a relationship with you to be with some guy she barely knew…" I shook my head, having to resist the urge to cringe. "That's disgusting, controlling, unhealthy, and just… Maddening. Can't you see that there's something wrong with that?"

"You're preaching to the choir, sister," she gave me a wry smile, but there was a ghost of sadness on her expression that was gone so quickly that I wasn't actually sure it was there in the first place. "Personally, I hate imprinting. I think it's the dumbest thing in the world – all it does is cause pain, right? That's all Sam ever did to me – cause me pain. He did it to Emily too, with, you know," she gestured to her face like she was gesturing to Emily's scars. "And Paul did it to you."

Automatically I reached out and touched my stomach where three heavy scars would always be spread across my skin.

Leah's eyes followed the movement of my hand. "He hurt you," she said slowly. "Disfigured you forever. And you don't hate him for it. That's why you're so angry. That's why you're so… determined to stay away. You know you should hate him, but you don't. You hate yourself for wanting to forgive him. You hate yourself for wanting to be with him even after everything he's done to you."

Something inside my chest felt like it was cracking and my lower lip suddenly began to tremble. I bit into it harshly to stop the movement, turning my gaze away from her. "Shut up, Leah."

"The imprint doesn't just randomly tie two people together," she continued, my words having fallen on deaf ears. "It took me a long time to realize it – and I'll deny it until I'm blue in the face to anyone who asks – but Sam and Emily are perfect together. They love each other. And I know that Sam loved me once, but not like he loves Emily. Never like he loves Emily." Her voice was far off, but then she suddenly shook head to bring herself back to the present. "They match. Sam and I weren't good for each other because we were too much alike. Emily is soft – someone who can match Sam's temperament; who's forgiving and loving and gentle against Sam's unwavering, commanding demeanor."

My fingers clenched around the bottom of my shirt. "Leah –"

"It's the same with Kim and Jared," she added. "Jared was the popular kid back in school. A jock, big group of friends, cheerleader girlfriend, a real people person – the works. And then there was Kim – geeky, brainy, shy… knew nothing about the real world but was brilliant in all aspects of school. They fit together even if they were completely different from each other. They made each other better. And it's the same with you and Paul."

My voice was barely above a whisper. "Please stop."

"There wasn't anyone on the rez who could go against Paul until you came along - someone who would go toe to toe with him. He was a player, yeah, but he was always so angry. Argumentative. Loved to get in fights with anyone with a pulse." She chuckled, lost in some far off memory. "Then there was you – the man-hater with a heart of stone who would rather jump out of a plane without a parachute than be with someone like him. Don't you see what you two have done for each other, Katherine?" she asked. "You aren't the same person you were when you moved here; he isn't the same either. You both have changed so much and you were great with each other. Honestly, I hate imprinting with every ounce of my soul but… even I have to admit that the spirits weren't wrong when they made Paul imprint on you."

I bit into my lip so harshly that I felt the bitter taste of blood hit my tongue.

"Imprinting doesn't force you to be with someone. Eventually – no matter if it was years or months or decades – you would have ended up in La Push and you would have ended up with Paul. The imprint just…" she shrugged. "It gave you a little push in the right direction. You are everything to him. There will never be anyone else for him. He just wants you to be happy, and if him keeping his distance is what makes you happy then that's what he's going to do." Then as an afterthought, mostly to herself, she said, "Even if the idiot is trying to stay away and not groveling on his knees in front of you like he should be."

"Then why isn't he here?" I suddenly asked, turning my gaze up to look at her with glassy eyes. "Why isn't he the one telling me this if I mean so much to him? My words can't mean that much – I know him. He's too stubborn just to stay away from me because I said I wanted him to keep his distance."

There was something foreign behind Leah's expression that made me believe that she knew more than she let on. "Because he thinks if he gets near you, he'll hurt you again. He isn't…" she grimaced. "He isn't himself right now. Suffice to say that if it's painful for you, it's about five hundred times more painful for him. But I get how he feels – seeing the person you love deciding that they don't want anything to do with you anymore… well, it takes a lot out of you."

A choking sound of despair left my lips and I covered my mouth with my hands. My heart felt as though it was threatening to burst out of my chest, stomach clenching and churning as my emotions attempted to settle a war within me. Leah was right, oh she was so right. I had been lying to myself this whole time. I didn't hate him; I don't think I ever did. There was nothing inside of me that held any sort of hatred for him, even though I had every right to despise him.

But… but Leah had used the word love. Was it true? Were Paul's feeling so strong that they could actually be classified as love? He had never really made his feelings a secret about what he wanted us to be, but would love be the word to describe it?

Was it… was it how I felt about him? I wasn't sure. I had never loved someone like that before, so I wasn't sure how I should feel. Was it supposed to be this painful? This ache in the chest, this shaking of the palms, chills on the skin, and churning in the stomach? Is that what romantic love was?

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do," I admitted to Leah in a croaky, slightly muffled voice. "I don't – I don't know how I feel."

"You need to talk to him," she insisted gently. "You both have been through so much – you deserve to be happy. It's not a crime that Paul is the thing that makes you happy, Katherine."

I wiped at my eyes in frustration. "I wouldn't even know what to say if I saw him."

"Yes," she said. "You would. I think you know exactly what you need to say."

Once again, Leah was right. I did know what I needed to say and I needed to say it now.

Before I lost him forever.

oOo

Someone was calling his name – his fake name, actually - from very far away, as if through a tunnel. It sounded hollow and fluffy, like his ears were stuffed with cotton. "Aiden – Aiden, come on, sweetie." A gentle patting on his cheek, and his eyes shot open to look directly into the face of Emily Uley.

He stared at her for several seconds and she waited, expectant and slightly hesitant, like he was going to freak out on her at any moment. But then he simply said, "Please don't tell anyone I passed out."

She let out a sigh of relief as chuckles sounded out from around him. Jacob's grinning face appeared in his vision, leaning over from where he was reclining on the ground. "It's okay, man. It's kind of shocking to see the first time."

'Kind of' was a bit of an understatement. When Sam had said they could prove it, Isaac was immediately hesitant. He seemed much too assured of himself for Isaac to entirely be comfortable. Isaac knew that it was impossible but for some reason… he felt that he wanted them to try and prove it. He wanted it to be real, if only to have some sort of explanation for the weird things that had been happening.

And prove it they did.

Emily helped Isaac sit up, and the teenager put a hand to his forehead as a grim-looking Sam emerged from the trees. "Didn't think you'd have that reaction but at least now you know the truth."

He truth. Isaac wasn't sure if it was a good thing that he finally knew what was going on; in fact, there was a part of him that wished he had no idea. "And my sister knows about all of this," he clarified.

"Most of it. She never really gave us time to explain the whole story," Sam replied. "Usually Paul would have been the one to explain, but under the circumstances…" He frowned. "Besides, Paul isn't well at the moment."

Isaac looked up, head cocked to the side in confusion. "What's wrong with him?"

Emily was the one to answer in that soothing voice she had, gently resting a hand on his shoulder. "Aiden, you have to understand that the imprint is very powerful. The fact that your sister is fighting so hard to stay away from him… well, it takes its toll. Paul is very distraught and he isn't really sure what he's supposed to do in this situation. He's torn – every cell in his body is telling him that he needs to go to her, to apologize and just be near her, but he's also terrified to be around her because he thinks he might hurt her again."

"Is that why he wasn't at the hospital after she was attacked?" he asked. "Why we haven't seen him since Takoda was born?"

"Yes," Jacob confirmed, thrusting out a hand to help Isaac to his feet. "The only thing that Paul wants in this world is to make sure that your sister is happy and protected. If he has to protect her from himself then that's what he'll do. He doesn't have any other choice than to do what she wants, and she's made it pretty obvious that she wants him to stay away."

Protected. Happy. Safe. The words felt almost foreign. Isaac knew that Paul and the others wanted to protect them from the dangers that they knew, but what about protect them from everything else? From what they didn't know? Could this be the solution that they had been looking for? Would it be easy, simple just to blurt out everything right there and tell them the truth about why they actually moved to La Push if only to get a bit of protection from supernatural creatures?

The idea seemed almost ridiculous… but was it really so impossible to believe that these people could protect them?

"She doesn't want him to stay away," Isaac finally stated, and it was obvious that his thoughts were far away. "I don't think that my sister knows what she really wants anymore. She's just confused. Scared." There was a pause. "I hear her crying at night," he admitted softly, unable to look any of them in the eye. "I know she thinks that Thomas and I can't hear, but we do, and we've given up trying to wake her up because it just makes it worse and she just pretends that nothing happened. She's always…" He swallowed. "She mumbles. Apologizing, saying things that don't make sense…"

"About what, sweetheart?" Emily asked, winding her fingers comfortingly around his arm.

"I…" He bit his lip. "I didn't understand it at first, but now that I look back on it… I think it was about Paul. She kept saying things like, 'I'm sorry, please don't go' and I never really understood until now. She's scared because she wants to be near him, but it confuses her because she knows that she should want the opposite."

"No," Sam interjected knowingly, exchanging a glance with his wife when he reached out to take her hand. "She's feeling exactly what she needs to feel."

Isaac opened his mouth to reply but never got the chance. A ringing was coming from somewhere beside him, followed by a rustling as Jacob dug in his pocket for his phone. "It's Leah," he said, putting the phone up to his ear. "Please tell me that you're calling with good news."

He didn't hear the girl's response, but Jacob's expression seemed promising.

"Well?" Emily asked expectantly, bouncing on her heels in her nervousness.

"She said that Katherine just left the house to go and talk to Paul," Jacob relayed.

"Well that's good, right?" she said, glancing between Jacob and her husband. "That's a good thing!"

"Very good," Sam replied, though his expression said otherwise. "Hopefully. Now, all we can do is wait."

oOo

Next Time: remnants of a burned apartment, apologies, Paul's house, and forgiveness.