AN: Thanks for the response! Hope you continue to enjoy it. We're still talking to Charlie this chapter, but we may hear from Paul next chapter- just have to see how it goes.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but some shirtless pics of Alex Meraz that clog up the memory on my phone. SM owns all.

Chapter 2

January

Charlie POV
"Hey there, Paul. Do you think you can come out of there and talk to me for a minute?" I kept my voice low and soothing, trying not to startle the skittish boy. "You're not in trouble, son."

He had just started inching his way out of the closet when Billy walked up behind me and caught his attention. I watched the transformation on both their faces, completely shocked at what I was seeing.

"Oh, there you are, Paul. I forgot you were here." The venom in Billy's voice was something I'd never heard before. He was talking down to this little boy like he was the drug addict and abuser. Paul was just a child!

As if his words had flipped a switch, Paul straightened his back and clenched his hands at his side as he stood to his full height, unimpressive as it was in the face of two grown men. His soft lips twisted up in a cocky little smirk that reminded me of a younger Tommy—there was no doubt Paul was his son.

"Billy?" I asked him, trying to voice my question without words. I didn't understand the situation at all. This boy was just about Jacob's age, and he clearly needed protection, not scorn from his tribe's chief.

Billy glanced at me and rolled his eyes. "Don't start, Charlie. He's not a lost little puppy. This kid is every bit as bad as Tommy was at his age. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, and all that."

I shot Paul a look that clearly said stay here, and pulled Billy off to the side where I could still keep an eye on the boy. "What the hell is your problem, Billy? This boy is clearly being abused, and he probably has been his whole life! You should be his advocate, not his adversary!"

Billy's lips thinned as he put on his 'chief face' and stared me down. "He's not a good kid, Charlie. He's only been here a week and he's already fought almost every kid at the elementary school. He gave Jake a black eye just two days ago!"

I glanced back Paul, who was studying the wood floor as if it held all the secrets of the universe. I could almost see the chip on his shoulder as yet another authority figure wrote him off as a lost cause. He looked up and caught my eye, his glare clearly challenging me to wash my hands of him as well, but I couldn't do that.

"He needs somewhere to go tonight, Billy. Do you want me to take him back to the station or are you gonna place him with a home here?" I knew he wouldn't be happy with me challenging him on this, but CPS cases were extremely touchy around here. We technically had no jurisdiction, and a child could only be removed from the rez after a lengthy investigation if the council didn't cooperate.

Billy sighed, knowing he had to comply. "No, I'll find somewhere for him to go. Can't be a family with small kids, but we need to keep him in La Push until his membership goes through."

That surprised me. I couldn't help but wonder what made Tommy decide to bring his boy home now, or why Billy was determined to add him to the tribe when he clearly despised the kid. I'm sure he would tell me it was more of their secret tribal business that I couldn't know about. He was so full of shit sometimes.

Walking back to the closet, I knelt in front of Paul once more. "Do you have any clothes to pack, son? You'll have to stay somewhere else tonight. Your parents need some time to cool off."

Paul shrugged one shoulder and frowned, pointing to a pile of material in the corner where he was hiding. As I looked closer I realized there was a folded up blanket, and several pairs of jeans and shirts stacked neatly next to the wall. I felt nauseous as I realized that this tiny closet was serving as the boy's bedroom.

As if reading my thoughts, Paul lifted his chin in defiance, challenging me to disparage the arrangement. I just shook my head and reached for the pillowcase, slipping the few sets of clothes into it and tying with a loose knot.

Paul sat down to pull on a beat-up pair of sneakers that looked about a size too big for him and had definitely seen better days. I made a mental note to ask around for some new things for the kid to wear. I knew how cruel kids could be to those who weren't as fortunate.

Once he was packed up, I held my hand out, wondering if Paul would take it. He looked suspicious, and in the end he just couldn't bring himself to trust me with physical contact. That small act of defiance nearly broke my heart. I couldn't imagine all the things he'd been through in his short life.

Walking into the small bathroom, I dug around until I found a fairly clean washrag and a small sliver of soap. I turned on the water in the sink and wet the cloth, bringing it over to kneel down in front of Paul once more.

I reached forward, waiting to see if he would let me touch him this time, and he gave me a brief nod before assuming his stoic, completely still pose. I carefully wiped the remaining tears from his face, along with the dirt and grime. He flinched away when I reached for his arms, so I indicated that he should go in the bathroom and wash his hands on his own.

When he came back out, his hair was damp and smoothed back behind his ears like he made some attempt to fix it in the dingy bathroom mirror. I bit back a smile at the clear sign that deep down he wanted to please others and be accepted, no matter what he projected to the outside world.

Billy was just hanging up the phone in the kitchen when we came back in and I looked at him expectantly. "I called Old Quil and he said Miss Molly would love to have Paul stay with them for the time being," he stated lowly. "I'm sure Quil will just love that."

I couldn't hold back a snort of laughter at that observation. My aunt and uncle lived in a small house just behind their son and daughter-in-law. Three Quils in less than a quarter of an acre made for an interesting family dynamic.

Walking outside, I realized I didn't want to leave Paul alone with Billy just yet, so I asked Mark to drive Tommy into town and come back for me once he was booked. I knew I could stay with one of my friends until he got back.

The crowd had dispersed by the time we came out the front door, and we moved silently to Billy's truck to load up and head out. I opened the door for Paul, only to look down and see him absolutely trembling with fear as he stood at my side.

"Paul?" I called softly, waiting for him to look up before i continued. "I want you to know you can always talk to me, okay? I'm on your side, no matter what. I know you could probably use a friend, since you're pretty new around here and all."

Those haunted eyes stared up at me as if weighing my measure, and he relaxed a bit as he finally nodded. I helped him up into the truck and noticed that he sat considerably closer to me than he did to Billy.

The ride to the Ateara's house was short and tense, but my aunt Molly was waiting under the porch light with a familiar smile that reminded me so much of my dad. Uncle Quil stood off to the side, a smaller, older version of his son, and stared at Paul with an unreadable expression.

After climbing out of the truck, I saw that Paul's face had slipped back into the mask he used with Billy, and I sighed in frustration. Was I the only one who could see this kid for the damaged little soul that he truly was? Why could no one else see the pain he was covering up?

Paul walked slowly behind me as I strode up the steps to hug my favorite auntie. I kissed her cheek and leaned closer to whisper, "He needs some love, Aunt Moll, just try to get through to him, okay?"

She hugged me tighter and then pulled back to look me in the face. "I will, Charlie. I promise."

With her words, I felt a burden lift. If there was one thing we Swans were known for it was our word. We didn't make promises we couldn't keep.

I turned to Paul and squatted down in front of him. "Okay, Paul. This beautiful lady is my favorite aunt Molly. She will take good care of you, and I need you to be a good boy for her, can you do that?"

He stared at me with a solemn look on his exhausted little face. I didn't think I was imagining the glint of betrayal in his eyes, but there was just no way I could take him home with me. I wasn't qualified, and I didn't have another adult in the house to watch over him when I was at work.

Molly stood to the side, leaving the doorway open to let Paul come through, and he walked in without a single word. I hoped this was the best place for him, but I didn't know of anywhere else to take him.

Old Quil may have been my uncle by marriage, but he was still one of the scariest men I'd ever met. He could stand there and stare at you, making you want to confess your deepest sins and beg for forgiveness—a handy skill to have when big Quil was your son.

"Charles." He stated my name as if it held great meaning, giving me his patented stare. "Joy and Quil won't be happy about this. The boy has not exactly been making friends at school."

I literally had to bite my tongue, because I was fairly certain that Jake and little Quil weren't being the friendliest kids in the world either. They tended to stick together, and only allowed Embry to play with them, but no one else. I always had a sneaking suspicion that Quil and Embry shared a father, but we had yet to get big Quil drunk enough to admit it.

"It's just temporary, sir. I'll have a talk with Tommy once he's in a better state of mind, and see if we can't work something out." What that something would be I still didn't know. People had to like you to want to help you, and the Lahotes had never been the most likable males in La Push. I definitely had my work cut out for me.