I do not own anything in the Twilight Universe. I am only borrowing it. Honest, I will put it back, when I am done.

Changes

The gravel crunched under the truck's tires as it tore down the dirt road. Once Sam made his decision he could not wait to see her. Sam rubbed his sore eyes as he tried to concentrate on the dark road before him. He had only traveled it twice before and only in the bright light of the day. He had thought long and hard these last couple of days. That's all he had been doing. He fought the guilt of abandoning his duty. He fought the guilt of neglecting his family for that duty. After hours of soul searching, he had not been blinded with any answers. He was met with only silence. So he did the only thing that he knew what to do. He got off of the couch and went to work.

Well, his body went to work, his mind continued to work out his future. The problem was, he had no future without Emily and his son. What good was saving the world if you destroyed your only reason for living? The pack was less than sympathetic to his plight. They hounded him ruthlessly. He tried to pay attention, but his heart truly was not in it. His heart was not there at all. It left with Emily and Scott. By the time Jacob had confronted him on patrol, he was numb. His questions continued to run around in circles in his mind. But the image of the true alpha spurned feelings of envy. Envy that he had the perfect life. He could just walk away from a shift of patrol, and let his burdens go. Sam's was shackled to his feet and clanked with each step. Yes, feelings of envy burned in his stomach, envy and resentment. Sam admitted them to himself, that he had them hidden deep down inside him. But they quickly bubbled to the surface.

And Jacob was so condescending. Lecturing him about responsibilities and obligations! Sam's anger flared again as it did last night. The steering wheel groaned under the strength of his grip. Sam forced his irritation down and kept his eyes on the road, but it wasn't long before his mind wandered back to last night.

When he told Jacob to stop running away from his true responsibilities and own up to his destiny, he hadn't really meant it. He just wanted him to leave him alone. The thought that he could just lay his burdens down, did not sink in at the time. It was only after they all left and the night sounds took over the woods around him, that the thought started whispering to him. Sam tried to think of any other way to make Emily happy and the pack taken care of, at the same time. Still that thought, that little demon crawled and caressed his mind, making him linger on the possibility. On the chance to lay that burden down. Just lay it down and walk away.

Once he gave it his reluctant attention, he could not let it go. It followed every train of thought. It lifted his hopes and opened the images of possibilities, of other futures. Futures that he had given up the day he phased. Then in the forest, without another witness, he got down on his knees, and he called upon the spirits to bare his soul. He spoke aloud, all of his fears, his resentments and he cried out his hopes. When he was done his face was to the ground, his eyes empty and his soul and conscious free. He knew that they would not give him a verbal answer, but in the following silence, he felt lighter. He felt calmer. He felt hopeful. It was then he knew. They would have understood. He had done his duty, but it was not his alone. Jacob could take his place. He should take his rightful place. Sam also knew that he could not go another day without her. He had to see Emily. He had to tell her. She had to know.

A smile lit his features, and it felt so strange. It felt so foreign on his face, stiff and unnatural. Sam was so distracted, that he almost missed his turn. He had to stop and backup. His laugh broke the silence like a knife. The little road was so small that the tree limbs brushed both sides of the truck. The smile got wider when he could feel her presence. She was outside. Close. The sun was just peeking over the horizon, lightening the blue black sky. But Sam didn't need the light to find her. He opened his senses, that were both a curse and a blessing and he locked into her position.

The truck came to a stop a hundred feet away from the house. She was on the porch, aimlessly swinging on the porch swing, a cup of coffee in her hand. She was squinting in the dim light trying to figure out who the visitor could be at this early hour. He got out of the truck, and made a few steps toward her. Sam could hear her heartbeat pickup speed at the recognition of the truck. He could see her eyes light up and a shadow of a smile haunt her lips. Sam's breath hitched at the hope he had not waited too long to make this decision. Then his hopes dimmed at the look of wariness that clamped down on any other emotion on her face. It was as if steel shutters locked down to protect her delicate heart. He stopped his approach, at the caution in her stance.

Sam felt a trickle of sweat glide down his back. Once he had made up his mind he was compelled to find Emily, but now that he was here, that she was before him, his stomach twisted in apprehension. What if she rejected him again? What if he was too late? He felt more nervous than he did when he and Emily first felt the imprint effects. Emily broke eye contact first, as she looked down at her feet. That was not a good sign. The thought that she would not be happy to see him kept him rooted in his spot, afraid to move forward. Emily looked back up at him, and her shutters were gone. In their place was her hurt, raw and heartbreaking. He had put that pain there. He once promised her, that he would die before he ever hurt her again. At the time he meant the physical wounds that decorated the right side of her face and body. But what he saw on her face now was so much more deadly to him. His broken promise was one transgression added to his many that he caused her through the years in the name of leading the pack. But no more.

Just as in the beginning of their relationship, Emily made the first move and placed her coffee cup on the rail of the porch deck. And moved down the three porch steps. She continued down the road in a slow gate, but with each step she got bolder and she increased her cadence. Sam took her offering with a smile that turned into a sob. He refused to let her make all of the compromises, like she had done in the past. That was in the past. He ran with lightening speed and swept her off of her feet.

Emily's breath froze in her chest from her surprise, and not just by his supernatural speed. The intensity in his eyes had been absent for so long, she had forgotten how she could drown in them. She missed him so much, and not just the short time that they had been away from each other, but for years now. They had grown a wall between them, covered with vines of indifference and thorns of painful retaliations made to hurt the other. Emily did not want to go back to that life. But she missed him. Emily's small time away from him, taught her that she was only half a person without him. She had decided that she and Scott were going home that day. Seeing him now, had reinforced her feelings that she had made the right decision. Sam mistook her hesitation for indifference and gently set her down. She instantly missed his warmth.

"I know that you didn't want me to come until you called me. But I couldn't wait any longer." Sam's confession was hard to say out loud to her. There were many things he needed to say, so many apologies to make. He could not wait to get to her, and now that he was here, the words stuck in his throat. It was hard to admit his mistakes, the way he had hurt her. Emily started to speak, but Sam put his fingers over her trembling lips to stop her. It was hard enough to form the words without interruptions. Her eyes turned hard and he could feel her body tense under his fingers. Sam leaned down and rested his forehead against hers.

"Please, beloved let me finish." Sam's pleading tone and the tremors she could feel with his body contact made her relax against him. Sam smiled and pressed his lips to her forehead before he leaned back to look into her eyes. Thinking better of it, he went down on his knees so that she was above him. The move made her eyes mist over. Good he had her attention now.

"I was wrong." Again Emily tried to interrupt, but Sam took her hands and gave them a gentle squeeze. "I was wrong to leave you and Scott, when you needed me most. I was wrong when I ordered you not to call the help you and my son needed." Silent tears slipped from her eyes that were fixed upon his.

"I was wrong when I said the pack needed me more than the two of you did. You mean everything to me." Sam raised her hands to his lips and placed a feather light kiss to each one. "I love you. And I want you and Scott to come home. That house is dead without you in it. I am nothing without you."

Emily lost control of her tears as she felt them slide down her face. Deep in her heart, all she ever wanted was Sam's love. Looking at the true devotion in his eyes, and the desperation, which he showed in his declaration, she wanted to ease his fears, take the pain out of his face. She could not believe how he humbled himself in front of her. It was like they had gone back ten years in time. Like the first few years of their marriage, before the burden of the pack took over.

"Sam you don't …." He cut her off, afraid that she was rejecting him, without giving him a chance.

"Please, Emily, give me another chance. It will be different this time, I promise." Emily put her fingers to his lips, just like he did a moment ago. With a smile on her face, she repeated his words.

"Please beloved, let me finish. Have I told you that you talk too much. I was going to tell you that we were coming home today. I had already decided." Sam waited for her to finish, but she just dropped her eyes to the ground. He squeezed her hands.

"What? What did you decide." Sam shivered at the thought that she had given up on them completely, before he had been given the chance to make things right.

Emily looked him in the eye, and with resignation she answered, "I decided that it didn't matter, that if I had to share you with the pack, I would. I cannot live without you." Sam stood up and embraced her. He lowered his head to meet hers, capturing her lips with his own. Emily felt his heat brand her lips, claiming what was his, always his.

Breaking the kiss, but not completely breaking contact, he said against her lips, "You won't have to do neither. I will never leave you. I am no longer the pack's alpha." Emily pulled back at his confession, confusion clouding her ebony eyes. "I stepped down last night." Before he could say anything further, they were interrupted by someone coming into the yard from the woods behind. Sam did not recognize the teenage boy, but then Emily's cousins were so numerous, they blended together in his memory. Emily stepped back and motioned for the young man to come forward, but he was frozen to the spot. Was that fear in his eyes? Sam could not understand why he would be afraid of him.

"It's alright. Come here and give your Father a hug." Sam turned to Emily, not sure that he heard right. Emily was trying hard not to let the tears fall again. She put a smile on her face that wavered in her efforts to look happy. Sam turned back to the young man, looking closely. He was shaking, and there were tears in his eyes as well. Recognition slowly dawned as Sam realized that the young man in front of him was Scott. But it made no sense. He would have to had aged at least 5 years in the last three days.

"Scott?" Was all Sam could manage as his mind whirled at the possibilities, that this new predicament brought. His son still stood there, but his Father calling his name brought fresh tears from his eyes. Fear clutched at Sam's heart, wondering what this would mean for his little boy.

"It's ok, Scott. Isn't it Sam." Emily looked to Sam, pleading with her eyes for him to make his son comfortable, with his new growth spurt. She jestered for him to go see his son.

It was only after the fever broke that he fell into a deep sleep, that lasted a couple of days. Emily was frantic, not knowing whether she should take him to the hospital. Afraid to call the elders, she waited at his side. Then he started growing. The differences were shocking. He literally aged at least five years before her eyes. Obviously, Scott himself was not handling it too well. If his own Father could not handle it, then how was a ten year old boy supposed to. Sam started to ask Emily questions, but she moved her head, just the barest bit to show him, now was not the time. Again she urged Sam to go forward to meet his son.

Sam moved forward slowly, trying to hide his fear. He followed Emily and tried to smile reassuringly at Scott.

"Dad?" Scott's greeting was phrased like a question. Apology was in the boy's face, as if he claimed everything as his own fault. Why? Was all Sam could think. Why did it have to happen to his little boy? It was hard enough what he had to go through, and Sam was a grown man of twenty one when he first changed. But to be a ten year old boy and to skip right into a teenager, in a few days? He couldn't imagine what was going on in Scott's mind at this time. He must be scared out of his whits.

"Come here Scott." Sam enveloped him in his arms, his grip tightening at his son's tremors. "Everything is going to be alright. I love you son." Scott let loose his sobs as he hugged his Father, his words releaving some of his fears. If his Dad said that it would be alright, then it would. He was alpha and his command was obeyed.

"Dad? What's happening to me?" Scott's question said to Sam's chest, hung heavy between them. Sam did not want to lie, but he didn't want to frighten the boy even more. Sam turned his head to Emily, needing her support. She at least had a little more time to get used to the situation. But she had no more answers than he did. Maybe the elders had some hope. Maybe there were ancestors that had gone through this same situation. Any information might be helpful.

"I am not sure son, but we will find out. The elders will know." That seemed to reassure Scott enough that he had stopped trembling. "Let's go home." The words brought a weak smile to Scott's lips. Keeping one arm around Scott he pulled Emily to his other side. No matter what they would have to face, he knew that they would make it together.


Quil laid awake next to Claire, thinking. He had been so wrapped up in himself, that he had no idea that Claire had come so close to danger. That he had made it possible for Micah to have come so close to her. It was all his fault. Last night Claire had went into nurse mode, pulling him into the house and then cleaning his wounds. He tried to protest, but she turned on him, shouted at him to sit down and shut up. Her hands that were so efficient and clinical in the beginning of her job started to shake as her reactions to the long day took their toll.

Quil stopped her by taking her hands in his. Unable to continue without her hands, it brought her anxiety to overflowing. She avoided his eyes as she fell apart. Quil pulled her on his lap. "I'm so sorry." Claire said through her sobs. Quil kissed the top of her head and then rested his chin there.

"It's ok. Go ahead and let it all out. And I am the one that is sorry. It's all my fault. I should never have lost control. It won't happen again." Claire's sobs exploded, thinking that he was going to leave her again. Quil worried that she was becoming hysterical, started rocking her.

"Please don't leave me again." Claire pleaded, no longer caring if she sounded desperate. She clung to him as if she could keep him there.

"I won't. I will only leave if you want me to." Quil said as her words, to her friend on the phone, after the dance, played over in his mind. He was disgusting. I still can't wipe the smell off of my mouth. He would not take no for an answer. And he didn't even notice that he tore my dress. I just want to take a shower. If I never see him again, it would be too soon. Quil's guilt made him pull back from her embrace.

Claire tried to cling to him but he forced more space between them. Realizing that he had her on his naked lap, he picked her up and set her on the couch. Quil pulled the afghan off of the back of the couch and self consciously wrapped it around himself. When he looked back at Claire he noticed that she had become very quiet. Now that the shock had warn off, maybe she was coming to her senses. She hunched in on herself, as if she could just fold up into a tight ball.

He hated that he could do that to her. Take away her confidence just like that. "I want to apologize for my actions at the dance. For the way I treated you..." Claire turned her hard stare to him, interrupting his apology.

"Don't! Don't you dare apologize for kissing me again. It might not have meant anything to you, but it did to me." Claire stood up and moved to stand right up to him, her head pulled up to meet him in the eye. "Don't take that away from me too..." her words loosing steam, as her anger turned into pain that made her hunch over again, as if protecting her breaking heart. Quil was burned by her accusation. As if her touch did not mean everything to him. He broke eye contact, unable bare her anguish.

"Claire, I wasn't apologizing for the kiss. The kiss was... it was amazing. No, I meant I was sorry for hurting you. For being too rough. He looked back to her, his eyes locked on the fading marks left by his fingertips. A map for where his hands had been. He reached over and fit the tips of his fingers to the bruises, a perfect match, making the purple disappear behind his fingers. His voice barely a whisper, causing her to step even closer, till their their bodies were inches apart. "I would kill myself, before I purposely tried to hurt you.

He wasn't apologizing for the kiss? He wasn't ashamed? Then why the disappearing act? Why did he run away from her, if he it wasn't because of regret? Claire was so confused. Claire looked down at his fingers, their heat branding her arm. She shivered at his touch. Instantly, he pulled away from her.

"Sorry, I didn't hurt you, did I?" His words were filled with concern. She immediately denied it.

"No, you didn't hurt me. I just.... and you didn't hurt me before.... at the dance. I didn't feel a thing. I just bruise easy." Quil turned from her, his frustration, had him raking his fingers through his hair.

"Claire, please! Don't try making me feel better. You had to have felt my fingers as they bruised your skin. Claire, you have to be honest with me. We can't make this work, if you can't tell me the truth." Quil's words had her head spinning.

"I haven't lied to you Quil. You weren't that rough." Quil turned back to her to stop her from trying to make it like it was nothing. His regret in his chocolate eyes.

"How can you say that. I practically pawed you. I ripped your dress."

"You didn't rip my dress." Her denial had him laughing in his anger.

"Oh, yeah, that was just my imagination." He stomped passed her, Claire followed, afraid that he was leaving again. She started begging him to come back. But he went down the hallway, pushing her bedroom door with such force that it bounced off the wall, closing behind him. Claire mentally braced herself before she opened the door to see him rummaging through her closet. He pulled out the dress she had worn to the dance. The bodice sagged where the material was ripped in two. "Is this my imagination?" The pain in his voice laced with anger vibrated in the room. Claire stared at the dress and then looked into his eyes. She opened her mouth to relieve his anguish, but he threw the dress down on the bed and said, "Don't! Please just stop!" Tears sprang from his eyes. All of his energy, spent he sat down on the bed.

"Oh, God, Claire! No wonder you are disgusted with me. I practically raped you." Quil's sobs forced the air out of his lungs, as his face fell into his hands. Claire was moved by his despair, and obviously, his confusion on the situation. She knelt down on the ground by his feet and tried to pry his hands away from his face. But they would not budge. It looked like she would have to talk through them.

"Listen to me Quil Ateara. You did not rape me. You did not hurt me. And you did not rip my dress." Quil lowered his hands, but the emotion that racked his body would not let him form words. Claire reached out and grabbed his hands, squeezing them. "You did not rip my dress, Devon that pig did." Quil's eyes grew round with his confusion.

"It happened after you left with Sam. He hit on me, and I refused him. He didn't like it and when I pulled away he ripped my dress." Claire stared into his glassy eyes, willing him to believe her.

"I... I didn't rip your dress? But I thought.... I heard you talking to your friend. … You said that I disgusted you, that you did not want to see me again." Quil stumbled over his painful words. Claire tried to think back on that conversation, tried to think how he had heard it.

"No, I did not say that.." Claire continued to talk over Quil's objection that he had heard her. "No, I did not say that about you. Devon was the one who turned into an octopus with a hundred arms. He was the one that I never want to see again. God, was this what it was all about? You ran away because you thought...? Quil, listen to me. I love you. You could never hurt me. Unless you run away again."

Quil stared at her, unable to process the information that she gave him. His eyes dropped to their hands linked together. Was this all just a big misunderstanding? But he was so sure... He took a deep shuddering breath. As he exhaled, a great weight was lifted off of his shoulders. He had been so mortified at the thought that he was capable of being such a monster, that she thought that he was a monster. What she thought was everything to him.

She squeezed his hands again to get his attention. Quil's eyes were hesitant, but also filled with hope. Tears framed his face. Claire started to to speak, to try to reassure him that she loved him, but she thought better of it. At this point she was afraid that he would not be able to listen. She stood up so her face was more level with his. She leaned forward and held his head in her hands, his tears warm against her skin. She looked deeply into his eyes and placed a soft kiss on his lips. Quil was frozen, his lips as still as stone. When she leaned back she noticed that his eyes were still open, that he had not moved an inch. She leaned forward and kissed him again, deepening the kiss. This time he responded.

Quil moaned into her mouth, as his hands wrapped around her petite waist, his fingers light as they brushed against her skin. He let her take the lead, only responding to her touch. Still afraid that he would take off at any moment she pulled back to gage his reaction.

"You don't hate me." His statement echoed like a question. She leaned her forehead against his, her eyes still locked with his.

"I love you." She repeated, finally feeling like he was listening. His face lit up with a weak smile that slowly made it to his eyes. She could almost hear his mind repeat her statement over and over inside his head, as she saw him working it out silently, then something else took over his features, taking the smile away. His face turned into stone and his muscles tightened in his chest. The look that took over his face scared her. He stood up taking her with him. When he released her and took a step away from her, Claire clung to him. Unable to keep up with his revolving emotions, she asked what was the matter. He turned back to her, but he was not really seeing her, but seeing through her.

"I'll kill him." The words froze Claire's heart. He turned to move away again. Claire pulled him back with all of her strength, scared that whoever he meant to destroy, he would without hesitation.

"What are you talking about?" Quil took a deep breath, not able to look at her.

"Devon. I warned him. I will kill him for touching you." Claire started to protest but her Mother's cry stopped both of them. Claire ran to her Mother's room, Quil at her heels. When they entered her room, they found her, still in her bed, twisted in her covers, lost in a nightmare. Claire leaned over her Mother, gently shaking her to wake her up.

"Mom, it's ok. It's just a dream. Wake up Mom." Heather's moaned stopped as soon as she opened her eyes. Slowly they focused on her daughter, as the nightmare faded. Claire held her tears back as she looked at her Mother, being eaten up by her disease. Her eyes were sunk back in her head, dark circles etched into her skin, as if she hadn't slept in days, instead of the opposite. Heather had not been able to keep her eyes open more than a few minutes at a time. Already she had settled back into the pillows and her breathing had evened out in a light slumber. A soft sob escaped Claire's mouth, before she was able to clamp down on her fear. This was no time to fall apart. If she gave in now she would not be able to stop, and she didn't want to waste any time with Quil on silly tears. She had done enough of that already.

Claire felt Quil's hands on her shoulders, gently massaging the tense muscles. She reached up and clasped his hand, as if a lifeline. She looked at her mother for a few more minutes and then turned to leave the room. Quil wrapped his arm around her to help support her as they made their way back into the living room. His anger a moment before was under control now, afraid to leave her side, in her condition. She looked like she was going to fall apart at any moment. And he didn't want to add to her worries. Obviously, Heather's health was deteriorating at an alarming rate. And he had left her all alone to handle it. Just another reason to kick himself.

Quil guided her to the couch, and sat down first, to place her in his lap. Claire, noticed that at some point Quil had put on some shorts. It must have been while she had been watching her mother. She leaned into Quil's chest, so tired. It had been an emotional day. First dealing with her Mother, then with Michael and now with Quil. Now that the adrenaline had worn off she could barely keep her eyes open. Quil was so warm and she felt so safe in his arms. No matter what happened, no matter what came her way, she knew that she could face it, if he was by her side. Just as she realized that her eyes were closed, a thought entered her mind that scared her. She jumped up, startling Quil. His arms tightened their hold on her, afraid that she was going to fall off of his lap.

"Hey it's ok. Come here Claire." Claire pulled back to look into his eyes.

"Promise me that you won't go after Devon." Quil did not want to promise her any such thing. The thought of that pimply boy putting his hands on his Claire had him in a hot flash, ready to rip him apart like her dress. "Quil. Just promise me. I don't want you in jail. I need you."

Her admission cooled him off. He didn't want to leave her ever again. He shook his head and Claire waited for him to say it as well.

"I promise." Claire settled back into his chest.

"I'm glad." There was a long pause and Quil thought that she might have gone to sleep, but a moment later she continued as if there were no time lapse. "Besides, Devon is already taken care of." Quil grunted his question.

"Yeah, his hand is broken and he lost his chance to finish the season." Claire's words were slurred with her exhaustion. Quil laughed in his righteous indignation.

"I would have liked to have seen that. Devon bested by a girl." Quil laughed again. Claire yawned before she corrected him.

"Oh, I didn't do it. Michael saved me." Quil repeated the boy's name, not knowing who he was. He would have to thank him.

" You don't know him. Well, maybe you do. I did not know until tonight, that he was around here years ago."

"Really? I don't know a Michael." Quil said, a nervous twitch in his stomach. Something in his subconscious not ready to hear.

"Well he's not Quileute." There was another long pause and he could have sworn he heard her snore. He waited a few more minutes, listening to her even breathing. Then he got up and carried her to her bedroom. As he placed her on the bed she started talking, but he was sure she was still asleep.

"Don't hurt him. Even though he is a vampire, he's a good guy. He saved me." Then she turned over and buried her head into the pillow. Quil just stood there looking down at her, horror in his eyes. Michael? Michael? Micah. It had to be him. It would explain why his smell was all around him. He thought that he was only imagining it, but now he was sure. And the worst part was he had her fooled. She thought that he was a good guy. Micah! How could he protect her, if she didn't realize the danger herself?

Quil climbed into the bed and pulled her close to him, his arm wrapped around her as he stared out the window, watching the shadows.

Hope you like it. In the next chapters, Seth will be forced to tell Toni the truth, or at least part of it. Quil will have a showdown with Micah, and Quil and Claire's relationship will change forever. Sam's decision will cause problems for his family. And I have not forgotten the Volturi. They are still waiting to pounce.