A/N: Hey all, I wanna leave a TW here for some child abuse in this chapter. Just a heads up! It's kind of a heavy chapter, but necessary. Also, sex at the end. Enjoy~
Indiana.
We decided to wait a week before going to see Emily and the babies – Liam and Laci. Some nights I stayed at Paul's house, and some nights he stayed with me at Josie's. Jesse went back to Tacoma to tie up a few loose ends, and Leah lasted an entire two miserable days before following him up there, which means I've been working with Tiffany who is covering her. And she's nice, of course, but when she feels something, she feels it strongly, and the last few days she's been feeling a particularly bad breakup that has me on the edge of screaming. By the end of the week, I'm completely drained and have barely made it through the last few days, dragging my feet through them like they were made of mud.
The last week and a half, looking back on everything that's happened, has been kind of a blur. I feel like I've aged years and it's only been a week since finding out the truth about this little reservation and the people that live on it. It's so hard to believe that it's real sometimes when I watch customers come and leave the shop – carefree and so normal.
The world is bigger than any of us.
That crawling feeling of insignificance still lingers in the back of my brain.
When Paul and I arrive at Emily's on Friday evening, walking into their home feels like a warzone. We enter through the kitchen where dinner is half started and walk down the hall to find Sam and Emily both at their wits end bouncing the crying babies around the room in an attempt to soothe them.
Josie and Embry are sitting stiff as boards on the couch and Jared and Kim are looking just as uncomfortable piled together in the armchair.
My stomach lurches. "Is everything okay?"
There is so much tension and stress in the room I doubt I'm the only one picking up on any of it.
"They won't stop crying," Emily says, utterly defeated. "It's been days."
Paul immediately jumps into action, offering to take little Liam from Emily. He cradles him so gently in his arms it weakens my knees and makes my chest tighten. "Come on, now, give your mom and dad a break," he shushes quietly.
"I've tried, Embry tried, Kim tried," Josie says, rubbing her hands over her face. "Jared's too much of a pussy to try—"
"Hey!" Jared glares at her.
I take a slow breath and try to focus, but the crying babies, the stressed out adults, and the near-tears Emily is too much. So much that my first instinct is to turn and flee – but then my gears switch to repair mode. Emily has done so much for me and taken such good care of me, there's no way I can leave her feeling this hopeless.
My arms stretch out to Sam. "Here, I'll take her," I offer, watching him set Laci in the cradle of my arms. He then walks to Emily and wraps his arms around her, kissing the top of her head in an attempt to comfort her.
I look down at the crying baby in my arms and pat her back as I bounce her. She isn't hungry, isn't tired, and she doesn't need to be changed.
She's lonely.
My brows pull together. There are eight other people in this room, how can she possibly feel lonely? Her adoptive aunts and uncles, her mom, her dad, her—
Brother.
Twin brother.
Pausing, I look across the room to Paul who is still attempting to soothe Liam. "Bring him over here," I tell him, kneeling down next to the thick padding of blankets in the middle of the floor and gently laying Laci down on her back. She wails louder and I quickly wave Paul over, carefully taking Liam from him and laying him down next to her.
It takes a minute of me shushing, but they slowly turn their heads to each other and begin cooing softly as they settle down, comforted by each other's presence.
"They've been together for months and were suddenly apart," I say quietly, sitting on the floor next to them. "They missed each other."
Jared stares at me dumbfounded. "You're a literal baby whisperer."
Babies used to scare me. In fact, I think they still do. Even though they only feel a limited number of emotions when they're this little, they feel them in magnitude, because it's the first time they're feeling anything outside of the comfort of their mother. One small little discomfort to them can wreak havoc on their emotions.
"Is that really all they needed?" Emily asks, tears still threatening to spill over. "I feel like a terrible mother."
"You're not," Paul says quickly, shaking his head. "You could never be a terrible mother."
He's right. Emily is incapable of being a bad mother. Her maternal instincts are so strong they seep out of her pores. She's taken care of and protected the boys in the pack like they were her own children for years now. She's the most selfless, caring person I've ever met.
I look back down at the quiet babies, both now perfectly content. "I think they're okay now," I say, rubbing Laci's cheek with the pad of my finger. "I can finish up dinner for you."
"Are you sure?" Emily asks. She tries to keep the hopefulness out of her voice, but I still hear it.
I smile and nod, letting Paul pull me to my feet.
He follows me into the kitchen and wraps his arms around my waist when I stop in front of the counter. "You really are a baby whisperer," he says with a grin in his voice, kissing the back of my head.
Even though the bomb has been diffused, my emotions are still so strung out. I feel like I'm seconds away from bursting into tears. I'm exhausted and drained, and no one will understand because I've refused to even give them the chance to. I'm too afraid to lose them – any of them. I'm even afraid to lose Jared who never misses an opportunity to tease and talk shit to me.
It's been years since I had something that was mine. I know people aren't possessions, but these are my people, and I don't care how selfish that sounds.
"Hey," Paul says quietly, turning me around and cupping my face. "You okay?"
I nod slowly, throat stinging as I try and hold back the tears. Am I still picking up on Emily? Is that why I can't shake this dread weighing me down? I feel like I might collapse under it.
He pushes my hair away from my face and grabs my chin, tilting my head so he can capture my lips. I inhale sharply through my nose and push my tongue into his mouth for a taste of his minty breath. His pushes back and there's a brief battle for dominance before I cave, submitting to him and curling my fingers into his shirt.
He pulls away a moment later, resting his forehead against mine. "I still feel it," he says reassuringly.
It makes me smile, and the dread lifts even if only momentarily.
I turn back to the ingredients spread over the counter. It looks like – by the jar of Prego – that she was going to make spaghetti. Swallowing thickly, I get right to work returning the Prego jar to the pantry and opting to make my own sauce.
Dad's sauce.
It sneaks up on me, sometimes – thinking about my life before La Push and my life before Malcolm. How strangely different all three lives have been. It's amazing what the human body can go through – what kind of pain and emotion it can tolerate.
I almost died at the hands of my mother. If another day had passed, maybe I would have.
I take a shaky breath and dump some pasta into the pot on the stove.
I don't eat spaghetti anymore.
When she first started doing it – my mother – it was always spaghetti. It was always spaghetti because the flavors are so strong they masked the bitterness. The first time I thought maybe the meat was bad. The second time I thought maybe it was just the flu. The third time I started wondering if I'd developed some kind of allergy, and by that point she was already sneaking it into everything else I was eating.
Not once did she ever take me to the hospital.
Even when I vomited blood and could barely move, she insisted she would take care of me. I'm surprised Malcolm let her go on as long as he did, but maybe that was the point. He wanted me desperate enough to be free from her that I would agree to anything – agree to his conditions.
And I did.
I decide to make a salad with the spaghetti.
My nerves watching everyone eat the pasta is enough to bring up the few bites of lettuce I managed to force down. I keep waiting, afraid, for someone to get sick. Even though I made dinner and watched each and every ingredient go into the sauce, once it was all put together it looked like any other spaghetti – like it could be her spaghetti.
I almost scrapped it, and I would have if Paul hadn't stayed in the kitchen with me the entire time. I would've made something else – anything else – to avoid that horrible feeling in my gut watching Paul take the first bite.
But he's fine. They're all fine.
So why do I want to throw up?
When dinner is finished, Paul and Jared do the dishes while the rest of us go back into the living room to watch the sleeping babies. They're so small and delicate and look like they could break just lying there.
"Can you believe you brought these perfect angels into the world?" Kim says dreamily to Emily, her hands tucked under her chin.
Emily smiles and sighs. "It's so surreal," she replies.
"I still can't believe you have twins," Josie adds. "You thought you'd have one, but came home with two."
"It was definitely a surprise."
Liam stirs a little and smiles in his sleep, which elicits a chorus of "aww" from all of the women in the room.
We stay for another hour before heading back to Paul's, stopping by Josie's first so I can grab an extra set of clothes.
Over this last week, Paul has gradually been adding furniture to the house, and even has groceries in the fridge. It finally looks like a real home on the inside now, too.
He walks up behind me and squeezes my shoulders, leaning over to kiss my cheek. "Wanna see the painting I got you today?" he asks me.
I smile a little and give him a curious look. "You got me a painting?"
He nods and grabs my hand, leading me upstairs.
Right outside of the master bedroom is a large watercolor painting of two orcas swimming under the moon and stars. It's framed in thick, black wood and stands out nicely against the white walls.
"Wow," I say in awe. "It's so beautiful."
Squeezing my hand, he reaches out with his other to center it a little more. "Kim's mom painted it. She's an amazing artist."
My bottom lip trembles a little and I swallow, starving off the breakdown. How do I deserve him? How is it possible that the universe decided it should be him and I together?
"Thank you, Paul," I murmur quietly, squeezing his hand back.
He pulls me into his arms and hugs me tightly. "I gotta run and do somethin' real quick. Beau's posted nearby on patrol, but I can take you to Josie's if you want," he says, kissing the top of my head.
The distance in his statement is not lost on me, but I'm tired. Maybe being alone for a little while will be good for me. "It's okay, I'll stay here," I reply.
"You sure?"
I just nod and unhook my arms from around him. "I'll watch TV or something."
He gives me a half smile. "I'll be right back. Give me an hour."
I nod again and he gives me a kiss before heading down the stairs. Once the door opens and closes, I make it a whole ten minutes before bursting into tears. I haven't fully dealt with all of the emotions I've been experiencing the last week and a half. There were ways I tried coping with them – drinking and laughing and lots of aggressive sex with Paul, but I haven't taken a moment to myself to sit with them.
So here I am, sobbing in the hallway in an attempt to release them and let them pass.
I hate crying, but I can't deny the healing qualities of it.
It's cold in the house without Paul. Now that the sun has set and the heat from the warm day has died down, it's freezing to me.
Shaking, I go inside the master bedroom and make my way to the attached bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind myself. The bathroom has a separate shower and tub, and I opt for the shower tonight, twisting the hot water knob and stepping out of my clothes.
Steam immediately starts filling the bathroom and I step inside the shower, pulling the glass door shut behind me. The hot water, though it stings my skin, feels so good. I take a seat on the shower floor and pull my knees to my chest, letting my head fall onto them.
Then, I sit like that and cry. I sit like that, under the hot spray of water, and cry until there's no tears left and nothing but empty sobs echoing off the walls. Maybe I'm being overdramatic. Maybe I'm making a big deal over nothing. But I can't stop. I need it all out – I need it gone.
The water turns cold just as there's a pounding on the bathroom door.
My body feels empty. Good empty, but exhausted. I can't find my arms and legs to stand up and open the door, and I don't know if it's numbness from the cold water or numbness from my emotional breakdown.
"Indie, if you don't open the door and show me you're okay I'm literally going to break it down," Paul yells, his voice muffled behind the thick wood.
A second later, there's a loud splintering sound followed by Paul suddenly pulling open the shower door. "Ah, fuck!" he hisses when the cold water hits his skin. He turns it off quickly and wraps his arms around my shoulders. "What's going on? What happened?"
He pulls me out of the shower and grabs a towel, wrapping it around my shoulders while frantically checking over my body to make sure I'm okay. "Babe, talk to me," he begs, holding my cheeks and then pulling me into his arms again.
"I'm fine," I croak. I know the aftermath is ugly, but I do feel substantially better.
He doesn't feel relieved in the slightest. "Please tell me what happened," he begs again.
"I just had to let it out."
"Let what out?"
"Everything," I whisper. "I feel too much. I feel too much and sometimes it's crippling. Sometimes I don't know what's mine and what's everyone else's and it scares me. So I have to let it go."
"What do you mean?" he asks, voice so soft and gentle in contrast to the shell of overprotectiveness hardening his body.
I shake in his arms, shivering from the cold water in my wet hair. "Emotions. Theirs, yours – anyone's," my voice comes out barely above a whisper. "I could feel Emily's pain when she was having her babies. I could feel Leah's chest crushing when she thought about Jesse going back to Tacoma. I could feel the babies' loneliness. I can feel everything. I can feel everything and I've been too afraid to tell anyone."
"Can you feel how much I care about you?" he suddenly asks, pulling my hair away from my neck and using the towel to soak some of the water from it.
My words catch. "W-what?"
He drapes the towel over the top of my head and holds my face. "Can you feel how much I care about you?" he repeats, searching my eyes. "How devoted I am to you? How incredible I think you are?"
My brows pull together as I look back into those amber eyes.
"Because if not, I'm going to show you, right now."
"Of course I can," I reply desperately.
He wraps his hands around the back of my thighs and lifts me into his arms, leaving the bathroom. "You've been holding onto this secret because you were afraid of what I might say, right?" he asks, carrying me to the bed. "Did you think for a second that I wouldn't believe you?"
"No one ever has."
He sets me on the bed and kneels down, resting his hands on my thighs. "I turn into a giant werewolf. I will always believe you," he speaks softly. "Tell me how you feel right now. I can't feel it, so you have to tell me."
My heart jumps. "I feel relieved," I whisper, still shivering slightly under the damp towel.
His head hangs for a moment, hands gripping my legs. "Things got so intense you felt like you had to cry alone in a cold shower," he says, voice hoarse. "All I've shown you lately is possessiveness and aggression and how greedy I am."
I shake my head frantically. "No, that's not—"
When his head lifts, he leans up to kiss me, hands moving to cup my face, thumb rubbing along my jaw. My brain haywires and the sobbing in the shower is suddenly a distant memory. I try to pull him closer by his shirt, longing for his warmth and his touch. His hands leave my face and drop to my hips, lifting me with ease and moving me to the center of the bed.
He stands up and pulls his shirt over his head, unclothing his muscled torso before carefully hovering back over my body. "I want to show you a different side of me," he whispers, dragging his lips over my collarbone and up the side of my neck.
My hands slide along his smooth skin, fingers dipping into the ridges of his abdomen before moving to his shoulders.
"I can be soft," he murmurs against my skin, hands holding me more delicately than I ever thought possible of him. "I can be gentle." His lips continue to trail kisses along the length of my jaw and then down the other side of my neck, breathing over the mark there.
I shudder beneath him.
His places his hand against my chest, barely touching my skin, and slides it down my torso and over my stomach. Goosebumps erupt on my skin and his hand lightly cups the heat between my legs, his kisses moving back up my neck and to my ear. "I can make love," he whispers, hot breath ghosting against the shell of my ear while his fingers slide inside of me.
A whimper leaves my throat and my legs spread further for him, encouraging him to continue.
He kisses my ear before working his way back down my neck, over my collarbone, and stopping at my breast. I watch as his tongue comes out to swipe over my nipple and it instantly hardens before he wraps his lips around it. My head falls back as he grazes his teeth over it before kissing down the side of my breast and down my stomach.
I lose track of his kisses amidst the way his fingers are curling against that spot inside of me. My thoughts are all forgotten. He wipes them clean for me. I don't need to cry, I just need him. He has the same healing powers.
"You deserve tenderness," he tells me, breath warming the spot below my belly button. His mouth descends further and further until his scorching lips press a kiss against that small bundle of nerves between my legs.
Another whimper leaves my throat.
I want to watch him so badly but my head only pushes further into the mattress when his tongue swipes over my clit in tandem with his fingers brushing that spot inside of me.
The air in the room is thick. My heart is pounding erratically and the fire quickly spreads through my belly the more his mouth works my clit. "Paul," I whimper again, my legs beginning to shake.
I manage to lift my head enough to peer down at him, and he's looking right back at me, mouth attached to my clit and free hand keeping my thigh spread. Pressure starts to build in the base of my belly and my head falls back again, but he suddenly withdraws his fingers and I hear his hands working the buckle of his belt.
When his mouth leaves my body, the pressure is cut off completely and I whine at the loss.
Paul shuts the light off and throws the balcony door open, allowing the glow of the moon to illuminate the room. He joins me on the bed again, jeans and boxers discarded, crawling between my legs and kissing his way up my body. Our lips meet and he is so careful kissing me, elbows on either side of my head and hands smoothing over my hair.
I hold onto him desperately.
This is so different than the other times we've had sex. Before, they were filled with lust and need and eagerness. He's taking his time, this time, and I think my heart might burst.
He pulls away from the kiss and shifts his hips so the head of his dick catches my entrance. "I can fuck you for hours on end until your body is like putty," he breathes into my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. "But I can make love to you and make your body come alive, too."
Pushing forward, he slides inside of me in one easy stroke, pausing when our hips meet. Tongue caressing the skin below my ear, his mouth moves along my jaw back to my mouth, kissing me soundlessly as his hips draw back and thrust forward again.
My fingers press into his skin. The way his body is moving is so sensual and cautious, as if I'm this delicate thing he must handle with the utmost care. His tongue parts my lips and I whimper into his mouth, my body molding against his and lifting into his touch.
He strokes in and lifts his hips, causing his lower abdomen to rub against my swollen clit. My body is so close to release and he knows it, but he draws it out. If he'd move a little faster, rub a little harder, I'd been a shaking mess under his body, but he keeps his slow pace and gentle movements.
I pull away from the kiss and lean my head back, baring my neck to him.
A smile spreads across his lips and he hums, placing a gentle kiss against the mark on my skin. "I don't need to touch this mark to make you shake with pleasure," he mumbles against my skin. "To make you come so hard you see stars."
I press my nails into his skin and lift my hips in sync with his, wrapping my legs around his waist. It feels so good my toes are burning as they curl in the air.
"So, do you feel it?" His whisper against my neck gives me goosebumps again.
My head nods, because I can't seem to find a single fucking word.
His lips move to my ear. "You feel how much I care about you?" he clarifies, tongue brushing against my earlobe.
A strangled moan escapes my throat as I nod again.
"I'll spend the rest of my life making you feel this way," his teeth graze over my earlobe and then he kisses the shell of my ear. "I'll take all the pain away. All the emotion. Until you feel nothing but this right here."
My legs quiver around his waist.
One of his hands cups my jaw and then slides down my neck, his fingers on one side and thumb on the other. "You're mine," he whispers.
I never knew such a threatening motion could feel so soft. He doesn't squeeze, his hand just rests there, fingers and thumb on the pulse points of each side. He's feeling my blood rush – feeling my heart pounding to circulate it through my body. I know he can hear it, but there's something so carnal about him wanting to feel it, too.
"Mine," I whisper back, only able to get half the phrase out.
My whole body feels like there's electricity running through my veins. My legs are squeezing so tight around his waist it's making my thighs burn and I can barely breathe.
"Do you want to come?" he asks, voice still a whisper in my ear. "I'll give you whatever you want, baby."
"Please," I whisper back, chest pressing up into his.
He groans and sucks on my earlobe, more fire spreading down the side of my neck. His pace quickens, but just barely. It's still torturously slow, but the hand over my neck moves down my stomach and between our bodies to brush his fingers against my clit.
"Come on, baby," he urges hotly in my ear.
My eyes roll back and I cry out his name as the pressure releases and pleasure courses through my body. My legs lock around his waist and I gasp for air as he pushes in as deep as he can before hardening further inside of me with his release.
We stay like that for a while as I attempt to catch my breath, Paul nuzzling the side of my face and peppering my skin with kisses. My body is humming with release – the tension and lingering emotions long gone.
The moon has risen high enough that it's no longer lighting up the room as much. A cold breeze rolls through the open door and even though I'm sure it feels great to Paul, it sends a shiver through my body.
He notices and carefully lays himself on top of me, sharing his warmth and protecting me from the breeze.
"Do you feel better?" he asks, voice soft. "Is it all gone, now?"
I look up at him, searching his eyes, and nod. It's startling how tightly my chest squeezes when he looks at me like this. His eyes harbor such a warmth and weakness for me.
He kisses me tenderly before drawing back and pulling himself from my body. I can feel the evidence of his release between my legs, and after he half-shuts the balcony door and the room goes mostly black, I use the towel from my shower to quickly wipe it away before dropping it on the floor.
Crawling under the covers, Paul returns to the bed and slides in next to me, his arm slipping under my head to pull me closer. He takes a deep breath, and a sudden awkwardness paints the room – like he wants to ask me something but doesn't know how.
"What's wrong?" I ask immediately.
He chuckles a little. "You can feel that, huh?" he asks.
"I told you…"
"I know," he whispers, kissing my forehead. "I was just thinking… Well, I haven't been using a condom at all, and… if you need me to go pick up one of those pills, just let me know. I don't know if we're still within the timeframe—"
My body stiffens. "It's fine," I breathe out quickly. "I can't get pregnant anyways. Like, ever…"
An emotion I can't quite put my finger on strikes him. First relief, but then… Disappointment? Wariness? Some combination of the two? It makes my stomach drop with guilt.
It was something I accepted a long time ago, because it's my own fault. My eating issues have long since made my periods disappear, and I'm sure whatever poison my mother was forcing down my throat couldn't have helped the situation at all. It never bothered me until now, admitting to this man – my soulmate – that I'll never be able to have his baby.
It's crushing me.
I know he wants to be a father eventually. He wanted to when he was sixteen with his first love and she took that away from him. And when something like that is taken from you, it makes you want it more, and now I've taken it away from him for the last time.
Just as quickly as the feeling came, it disappears again. He's bottling it up. Packing it away and storing it so that it doesn't hurt me, but I've already felt it.
"Does that make you wish I wasn't your imprint?" I ask with a shaky voice.
He lifts his head and pushes his mouth against mine, cradling my face and kissing me so deeply it makes my head spin. "Never," he replies softly against my lips. "I don't need kids, I just need you."
He healed my heart just so I could break it again myself.
Does the cycle ever stop?
A/N: she finally told someone! *dances* I have been meaning to ask, what kinds of things would you guys like to see included in this story? I already have the major plot points outlined, but it's something I've been curious about. More fluff? More smut? More angst? Anything you guys want to know more about? By the end of the story, major things should be clear, but sometimes smaller things don't get touched on as much.
As always, I love chatting with you guys, so drop me a review if you have time xx if not, see you next time! Thank you for reading!