AN: Thank you to April-Showers82, EpiphanyFire, Guest, CaliNative76, and Anony for reviewing, I love hearing your thoughts, please keep reviewing!
Read and Review Please!
Chapter Forty Three: Realisation.
"Wait, Sam, are those your clothes?" I spotted the ripped material caught under his paws, "You ripped your clothes?" With the speed in which he changed from human to wolf, I barely noticed his clothes tearing from his expanding body. Then it struck me, I was caressing my practically naked brother. I jumped back and blushed. He let out an awkward, wolf-like chuckle and took a large step back too, "I'll just-I'll fetch you some clothes. Wait, no, not fetch-get, I'll get you some clothes." If a wolf could roll his eyes, Sam did just that, directing it at my retreating back as I hurried back in the house.
Once I collected a pair of boxer-briefs, jeans, and t-shirt, I left them on the front porch with his socks and boots. Nodding at his wolf form, I spotted the shreds of his clothes clinging to his fur, before I turned back into the kitchen. Feeling nervous energy twitching my fingertips, I set about fixing breakfast for Sam and I. Gathering bacon and eggs from the fridge; I set the frying pan on a medium heat and waited for the oil to sizzle. My ears strained to hear Sam moving about outside, to make sure he hadn't run away again, but it was all silent besides the wind rustling the tree leaves. So, when I heard his throat clear behind me, I dropped the egg I was about the crack straight into the pan.
"Sorry." Sam took the pan and tipped the ruined egg into the sink, rinsing it and adding more oil, before handing it back to me. The sheepish expression on his face looked so unusual, I could only stare, "Bella?"
"Yeah? Oh, sorry." I felt my face heat again, embarrassed to be caught staring, and I quickly turned back to making breakfast.
"Orange or apple juice?" He called from the fridge and I pointed to one carton without looking, "Apple it is."
As we feel into our usual breakfast routine, I felt the awkward tension dissipate between us. It felt normal again. We moved seamlessly around one another in the kitchen space, stepping with easy born from years of habit. Eventually, I laid the plates of eggs and bacon on the table, beside the juice and toast he had produced, and we sat down. Sam automatically began piling his plate with the offerings, while I sat still, watching him. He seemed more comfortable around me now, as if the absence of his secret lifted a weight in him, and he could finally be himself with me once more. But I wanted answers; I needed answers. So, I waited for him to tuck in, before slowly helping myself, as his plate diminished and he took the remaining items.
"So…" I started hesitantly, keeping my eyes down, I took a sip of apple juice for confidence, "You're a werewolf."
"Yeah." He nodded and took a bite of his toast, "It appears so."
"When…when did you…?" My hand waved uselessly in the air as I wracked my mind for the correct phrase.
"Phase?" Sam interjected and I nodded, "That day outside of Newtons'. It scared the sh-crap out of me."
"You scared the crap out of me too." I agreed. The pain of the memory niggled in my mind and I had to remind myself he was back, for good hopefully. He was keeping no more secrets from me; he had no reason to hide anymore.
"I'm sorry." The sheepish expression spread across his face again, "I just…I freaked out. I thought I'd lost it. I didn't know what was happening to me and I could figure out how to change back. It took me weeks to calm down enough to phase."
"So it's to do with your emotions?" I asked curiously, "You phase because…"
"It can be because of strong emotions, like anger. But it's because…" He seemed to choke slightly on his words, before he flushed it down with several gulps of orange juice, "Do you remember the Tribe legends?"
"Of course, we've had them drilled into us from being kids."
"Do you remember the…the spirit warriors?" He seemed to be having trouble phrasing his words, strain marring his features in his effort to explain.
"I remember the spirit warriors. They turned into wolves." I nodded, trying to help him, "Is that why?" My tone barely concealed my disbelief.
Growing up in the Quileute Tribe meant we knew the legends; knew them and could recite them from memory. But everyone, at least in the younger generation, disregarded any validity of them possibly being true. Only the crazy Elders actually believed in them. It was a frequent source of humour and teasing to even joke about believing in the ridiculous myths. They were fables made up to tell at Tribe bonfires.
The absurdity of thinking the stories were true, that they were affecting my family, the idea was preposterous…yet, I knew fairy tales and monsters existed. I had known for a long while now that our world was not only made up of humans, but also of vampires; Edward and his family were 'vegetarian' vampires – they didn't feed on human blood. The supernatural world was a hidden fact. But for my brother to be one of those creatures, I couldn't imagine it. He was just Sam, just my brother. He couldn't possibly be a werewolf.
"Do you remember the enemies of the Tribe?" Sam hedged his answer, looking like he thought himself crazy for even discussing this with me.
My memory threw me back into past nights camped around the bonfire on First Beach, the smell of cooked food lingering in the air. Billy Black sat at the head of the group, looking solemn and authoritative. Then a hush would fall over everyone and Billy, as Chief of the Tribe, would begin telling us the legends; of spirit warriors, and werewolves…and vampires. My mind raced with the answers to this situation, answers I couldn't stand to face, but I couldn't hide from them. Sam is a werewolf because of the Cullens, because of Edward.