eleven: leland

.

Until he was eighteen, until he joined Julie's Pack, he'd only ever known the Rez and its slow-paced way of life. So, really, he should know all too well how days can drag on and on and on. He should be used to it, but instead he seems to have forgotten how painful it can actually be — the waiting. His impatience for Spring Break to arrive seems to make time slow down more than ever.

With only a week to go until he has an excuse to return home, he's in an off-campus coffee shop and waiting to be served, lost in his own head as he seriously measures up the merits between either skipping his last stretch of classes or asking the hurried barista for a job, just to pass the time, when someone taps him on the shoulder.

Leland does and doesn't expect to see Adam.

He knows Julie's brother is a college senior now, of course — they were bound to run into each other at one point or another, being at the same college and all, but it's still a bit of a surprise. They haven't seen each other in over three years.

Adam is in equal disbelief. He stares at him like he's seen a ghost.

"Lee? . . . Shit, man — I knew it was you!" The eldest Black twin looks him up and down, a critical eyebrow raised. "Uhm, dude. You know steroids are bad for you, right?"

Lee's six-foot-seven and weighs two-hundred-and-eighty pounds. Maybe less, if he's lost any of that solid muscle he gained after years of running patrols and ending vampires — but Adam isn't to know that. He has avoided the Reservation for as long as he's been in college. He didn't even come home for Holly's funeral.

Lee feels himself scowling at the thought. Aaron didn't come home, either.

Adam's face falls. "So you hate me now, huh."

"No," Lee says. "Just surprised you remember who I am, is all."

"I . . ." His old friend sighs. "Yeah, I guess I deserved that."

"You guess."

Adam's shoulders drop, and he shakes his head sadly, but Lee can't find it within himself to feel bad about it. The line moves forward, and he moves with it.

Adam is hot on his heels. "What are you doing in Seattle? You're not a student at U-Dub, are you?"

"I am, actually."

Adam doesn't answer. He just keeps staring at him — almost as if he's having a hard time believing it. Like Lee shouldn't exist in this world. His world.

And maybe, Lee thinks, just maybe he shouldn't. He can fake it all he wants, this new semi-sane life of his, but perhaps he's just not cut out for it after all. He's been thinking about it for a while.

It's just too bad that he's too stubborn to quit, isn't it?

But, shit, he fucking hates the city. Hates Seattle, hates college. But he'll be damned if he goes back to La Push with his tail in between his legs before the year's up.

(Spring Break doesn't count — even if he does end up going home a week earlier than he promised Jules. The week he went back for Christmas with Natalie on his arm doesn't count, either.)

The line moves again, and Adam is still staring at him.

"Can I help you with something, Black?"

"Uhm." Adam swallows audibly. "Can I — can I get you a coffee?"

Lee doesn't really see the point in coffee. Like alcohol, caffeine doesn't affect him anymore thanks to his stellar metabolism. He's only here for the pastries (and perhaps a job; he's still undecided on that part) because his appetite hasn't changed much either.

He ends up saying, "Sure," anyway, because he's always been a bit of a doormat when it comes to the twins and their little sister — no-one else — and he just nods when Adam tells him to go and find a table.

This is going to be an awkward-as-fuck conversation.

.

twelve: julie

.

Julie knows Lee is home the second he steps foot back on the Reservation. She can't really explain how she knows; she just feels it. Suddenly, she is less torn, her heartstrings less stretched — because the further her wolves go, the harder it is on her.

(She will never tell them.)

Suddenly, she feels more whole than she has in months. That's how she knows.

She doesn't seek him out right away. Instead she hands authority to Paula for a whole forty-eight hours, because she fully intends to take advantage of the sense of rightness Lee's homecoming brings. Sometimes, she needs to be selfish — for her, the human, not the wolf — and she can afford to be now that they are all together in La Push again. All of them, right where they belong.

Finally.

Relaxed for the first time in weeks, Julie falls into a deep sleep, deeper than any she's had in the years since Samantha Uley yielded the Pack to her, and she doesn't wake for sixteen blissful hours.

.

Of course, the peace doesn't last.

.

Her brother gapes at her as if he doesn't believe she's real. Which is ironic, if you think about it, considering she didn't think that she'd ever see him in the house again after he high-tailed it to college on a scholarship and hasn't looked back since.

Birthdays, Christmases, Easter — he hasn't been home for any holidays of the sort in over three years. Their only contact has been over the phone, and even that has been strained at times. She's lucky if she gets to speak to him four times a year: on her birthday, Bonnie's birthday, his and Aaron's birthday, and Christmas. Quite honestly, she wouldn't be surprised if he forgets she exists the rest of the time.

It's not as if she blames him or Aaron for not wanting to be around after their dad died or anything. They made sure that they escaped as soon as they were able to — one twin to Seattle, the other to Hawaii.

But she blames them for leaving her behind.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

Adam is sitting at the kitchen table, appearing more at home than he has a right to. He blinks stupidly at her. "Jules?"

Julie rubs the last of the sleep from her eyes, looking around as if her other brother might be hiding somewhere nearby. "What are you doing here?" she asks again. "What's happened?"

Her brother frowns. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, who died? Where's Mom?"

Adam sputters. "'Who died?'"

"Something must have happened, dumbass." She looks around again, still fighting her disbelief through exhaustion. If Aaron isn't here, where is her mom? And just how can she still be so tired after sleeping for so long? "You wouldn't be here, otherwise."

"Nothing's happened." Adam doesn't lose his frown. "What happened to you, sprout? You used to be nice."

"I grew up."

There's a lot more Julie could say. Horrible, nasty things only the Pack have ever heard: her innermost thoughts and feelings of being abandoned by her brothers when she and Bonnie needed them the most. Feelings about being the one who had to look after their mom, having to watch the woman get worse year after year and steadily more dependent until she finally lost all feeling in her feet. Hell, Bonnie can't even shower without help now, can hardly remember her insulin or—

No. She won't think about it.

Julie's control is infinite these days. It has been years since she's lost her temper to the point that she can't think in straight lines, and she's not about to start on that downward spiral now. Not for something — someone — as stupid as her brother who's suddenly decided to show his face around the reservation again. Who has come home.

No. Julie only phases when she wills it now. Not her emotions.

She is the Alpha.

Julie straightens her back and regards her brother as closely as he regards her. "Why are you here, Adam."

Her wolf snorts its approval when her brother is the first to drop his gaze— as he should, says the wolf, the Alpha; we do not yield — and Julie lets the silence stretch between them, until finally Adam sighs and leans back in his chair.

"I bumped into Lee at college," he says, barely audible, and her heart skips a beat. "And he . . . convinced me that it was time to — to come home."

"Convinced you?"

"Threatened." Adam rubs the back of his neck, eyes still averted. "If you're going to give me a hard time, then you should know that he's done it already. In public. And Mom did too. I'm surprised she didn't wake you; she cried for an hour. Then she yelled at me."

"Well what did you expect? Welcome home banners and baked goods? You've been gone nearly—"

"Four years, I know. I've been told." Adam pushes out his chair and stands, hands outstretched. "Can we not do this? Please? I'm having a hard enough time looking at you — you're all . . . all grown up, and . . . and I don't like it."

Julie scoffs. "Don't like that I'm the same height as you, you mean."

"Yeah, what is that? Because Lee — Lee's massive all of a sudden, and you . . . Well, you look like shit, actually, if I'm being honest with you."

"Gee. Thanks," she replies dryly.

"I mean it, Jules. What's going on with you? I don't even recognise you."

"That's not exactly any of your business anymore," she says curtly. She's forgotten what it feels like to keep secrets. She's not had to lie since Quil finally joined the Pack. It's easier to be rude. "How long are you here for? You know, just so I can start preparing for the next three years I'm not going to see you."

It works, the nastiness. Adam's frustration dies and he turns truly uncomfortable underneath her glare as he mumbles something that sounds like, "'Til next week."

Julie suppresses a sigh at how long she's going to have to lie for. It's only Saturday. She hates lying; she's so bad at it.

It's going to be a long Spring Break.

.

thirteen: julie

.

The front door opens with a bang, almost coming off its hinges as Paula strides through it.

She looks at it a little guiltily. "Oops," she says before her head snaps back round to Julie, a cock-sure grin on her face. "Still don't know my own strength sometimes. I think being your Second has had an effect on me — you know, physically." She flexes her muscles theatrically, admiring herself. "God help us if I ever take over."

Julie can't help but agree. She rolls her eyes. "What do you want?"

"That's nice, isn't it?" Paula bemoans to the empty room. "I give her forty-eight hours of peace—"

"It's been nowhere near forty—"

"—and all she can do is demand, 'What do you want,' like I'm some kind of . . . some kind of pest."

"You are a pest."

Paula's grin widens. "I know. But I'm so bored, boss. I can't carry on for another day with only Quil and Sarah to listen to," she whines. "I can't. You have to come and save me. Please."

"You'll get over it," Julie says. She hasn't even seen Lee yet; she needs the downtime, the whole forty-eight hours she was promised. "Just make sure Quil gets at least an afternoon with Clay, probably tomorrow would be best, and as long as Sarah gets all her homework done then—"

"Jules," her brother begins, walking into the cramped living room, his arms laden with clothes, "why have all my old shorts been cut up like—"

Adam stops short in front of Paula, face dropping into a deep scowl at the sight of her. "And which one are you?"

Julie sighs. "Paula. That's Paula."

Adam stares and stares, and then — "Jesus, Jules. Are you all fucking mutants, or what? Lee swore to me that it wasn't steroi— . . . Why — why is she looking at me like that?"

They both glance back at Paula, whose eyes are glistening with something resembling awe of seeing the sun for the first time.

Julie groans. Well, shit.

So much for her forty-eight hour vacation.