Eight

It was full dark by the time Paul phased human again, as calm he ever felt once more, and Bella needed to get home.

He had wanted to keep her on the rez tonight, but she overruled him with cool conviction that he couldn't help being impressed by, even as his blood pressure rose just thinking of her being off pack territory.

"I need to see my dad, Paul. I've barely talked to him in weeks."

That was good, Paul recognized; she was showing she cared about something besides the leeches. He didn't know how long it had been since she'd done that, but he suspected it was a long time. And she wasn't lying; he could feel that she really did need to spend some time with her father.

Someone will be on her at all times, he reminded himself as they walked back to where her truck was parked in front of Sam and Emily's house. Though he planned for it to be himself for as much of the time as he was physically able. Not that he didn't trust his packmates, but he was pretty sure there wasn't much point in even trying to sleep or eat or do anything else if he wasn't with her.

"Can I ride back with you?" he blurted as she fumbled for her keys. That felt like such a stupid thing to ask, when he could follow her in wolf form close enough to keep the feeling of hollowness at bay, but he wanted just a little bit longer in her presence as a human.

Thankfully, she didn't act like it was that weird of a request, nodding as she climbed into the cab of her truck.

Paul jogged up to Sam's front door and stuck his head in. Sam and Emily were curled up on the couch together, watching a movie. "I'll be with Bella," he told his alpha, who wasn't looking very alpha-like at the moment, his head burrowed against his imprint's neck as Emily stroked his hair.

Sam just grunted, which Paul decided to interpret as acceptance.

As he walked back outside, he saw Bella in the process of crawling over from the driver's seat toward the passenger seat. He opened the passenger side door, blocking her path. "The fuck are you doing?"

She looked confused, awkwardly positioned halfway between the two seats. "Aren't you…don't you want to drive?"

He stared at her. "Why the fuck would you just assume that? It's your damn truck."

There was a long pause. "He…Edward always wanted to drive," she told her lap.

Paul shook his head. Of course it was the bloodsucking bastard. "Well, I'm not the fucking leech," he said. "I'll drive if you want me to, but I'm not forcing you to do anything." His voice softened. "I'm not ever forcing you to do anything. Okay?"

She laughed, but it sounded a little like she wanted to cry, too. "Okay."

"So, do you want to drive or not?"

She bit her lip and looked away. "I…like driving," she said finally. "I'd sort of forgotten, but..."

Paul climbed the rest of the way into the passenger side, pushing the seat back as far as it would go so he could stretch out his long legs underneath the dash, while his imprint scrambled back over to the driver's side.

"So drive."

They didn't talk much on the way back, but the stretches of silence weren't uncomfortable. Bella was at ease with silence, and Paul kept getting distracted halfway through what little conversation they had by his thoughts of the redheaded bloodsucker, and how he was going to tear it to pieces before it got within ten miles of his imprint.

He looked down to see his fists clenched, his knuckles pale against the darker skin of his hand. He forced himself to spread his fingers apart and rest them on his legs. He was going to keep her safe. At any cost.

When they were a few miles from her house, Paul remembered that her dad would be home this time. He grimaced. "Can you drop me off here? I'll phase and go through the woods to get to your house."

A look of surprise flashed across her face, replacing her normally blank expression. "Okay."

"Trust me, you don't want your dad seeing that you're hanging out with me," he told her, feeling like he owed her some sort of explanation.

He wished for the millionth time that he wasn't such a fuckup, especially as big of one as he'd been in the months right before he'd phased for the first time – the boy Charlie Swan would remember. That was who his imprint got, though. First an undead bloodsucker and now an asshole who occasionally turned into a wolf. Lucky her.

Bella looked speculative as she pulled up next to the curb, but she didn't say anything.

"I'll be outside your house till midnight. If you need something…" Paul shrugged awkwardly. "I'll probably be able to feel it anyway, but just say something. I'll hear it. And after midnight I'll be patrolling the east side of our territory, so that I can do the rounds within range of your house. You'll be safe."

She nodded, not seeming particularly worried about being hunted by the leech. That was fine; Paul could worry more than enough for both of them.

He swallowed. "You…won't do anything risky, right? You won't try to leave your house or contact the leeches or anything?"

Her expression softened. "I promise I won't do anything like that. I know how much you and the pack are doing for me. But don't worry about me. Really."

He snorted. Fat chance of that happening. Ever.

She fiddled with the hem of her jacket. "Do you… Um. You can come over tomorrow morning. If you want, I mean. Charlie leaves at seven, but if you come over after that, I can make you breakfast."

He stared at her, trying not to let her see how much of an impact her artless offer had on him."Okay. Yeah. I can do that," he said after too long of a pause.

She tucked a strand of her behind her ears and stared at her lap, looking suddenly embarrassed. "It's the least I can do," she said. "Okay. Um…see you then?"

"See you," he echoed, stepping out of the truck and slamming the door behind him.

As he watched her truck's taillights disappear around a corner, he wondered if this was what having somebody give a shit about him felt like.

It took an act of incredible willpower and the threat of an Alpha order before Paul could make himself move out of eyesight range of his imprint's house after midnight that night. Bella had fallen asleep a couple hours earlier, and she hadn't had any nightmares so far. Paul hoped she would have a night of peace for once.

You won't be going that far, Sam's voice, reassuring even in wolf-form, promised him as Paul began loping along the perimeter that made up the territory they'd agreed upon. We'd smell the leech long before it got anywhere close to Bella.

I don't know how you can deal with it, Paul burst out. Imagine it was Emily living off the rez. How would you handle it?

Sam's response was calm. You have to respect her priorities, Paul. If she wants to stay with her father, then you just have to learn how to work around it. Just like I'd work around it if Emily wanted to move back in with her parents or something like that.

Paul felt Sam's brief stab of pain as he considered that possibility. The Makah reservation was sixty miles from La Push, not a huge distance, but it would probably mean Sam would only be able to see Emily for a few hours every day, and Paul already knew how much it hurt not to be with his imprint.

Yeah, it would fucking suck, Sam said dryly, obviously hearing Paul's thoughts. But we'd figure it out. And you'll figure this out, too. This shit with the leech, and everything else about being imprinted.

They patrolled in silence for a few minutes, until Sam added, sounding thoughtful. You know how hard Emily fought me at first. A lot of times I think she hated me. It wasn't like Kim and Jared. But now–Paul caught a glimpse of Emily's face in Sam's mind, with the same subtle glow and sense of wonder that Jared also had when thinking about Kim, and Paul suspected he had when thinking about Bella. Now we hardly ever fight. I mean, obviously I never fight with her, but sometimes she gets mad at me. But that's good, too, because it means she feels comfortable with me.

Paul wondered what it would feel like to have his imprint be utterly comfortable in his presence. I think sometimes she would fight me more if she wasn't so fucking sad all the time, he admitted to Sam.

She's getting better, I think, Sam said. Because of you.

Paul sent back his disbelief as he unnecessarily leapt over a fallen pine just to burn off some of his excess energy. Yeah, right.

She is, Sam insisted. She'll stand up to you. I think it's been a long time since she stood up to anyone.

Maybe never, was Paul's immediate thought.

Yeah, Sam agreed. Maybe never.

As the late night hours stretched on into early morning, Paul could feel himself becoming more and more melancholy. He patrolled within sight of his imprint's house, where she was still sleeping peacefully, at least twice an hour, so he knew it wasn't his imprint bond, and there wasn't really anything else in his life to make him so disgustingly sad. Pissed off and depressed and a million other things, yes, but not so damned mopey.

Finally, he realized the feeling was leaking over from Sam's side. The Alpha could usually keep his thoughts to himself, but strong emotions tended to come out one way or the other.

C'mon, Sam, quit making me feel like I need to start writing poetry, he said.

Sam sent back his surprise. Oh. Sorry.

Not nearly good enough. What are you getting all emo about? I didn't piss you off talking about Emily earlier, did I?

No.

There was silence again, and Paul was about to snap at Sam to spit it out, when he finally did.

I feel like I'm missing something. Like I felt before you and Jared phased for the first time.

Fuck. Seth Clearwater. They had known it was probably inevitable, but Paul and everyone else had still hoped they could prevent it. Or at least delay it. He was so young.

We knew this was gonna happen, Sam.

I know. Sam was ashamed now; Paul could feel that, too. The Alpha must be really messed up if he was letting so much emotion spill over. It's not just that. It feels… bigger… than just one person. I think we're going to have two new wolves soon.

Fuck. Paul mentally flipped through every person he could think of on the rez who had the bloodline. He wasn't related to anyone at La Push except his dad and his aunt Talia, and she didn't have any kids, Quil and Embry were only children, Jacob only had sisters, Jared had an older brother who lived in Salem–

Jacob has a cousin, Sam interrupted his thoughts. Collin Littlesea.

Jesus Christ, Sam, the kid's what, twelve?

He turns thirteen this month.

Jesus Christ, Paul thought again. It was too young, too soon, but who was there to argue with over the unfairness of a preteen turning into a wolf? The gods?

Paul he knew he was too young, too, for anything resembling this level of responsibility. It didn't matter what he wanted, though. He wasn't sure it ever had.

Fuck, he thought again, because there was nothing else to say. There was no comfort for anyone to give – not to Sam or Collin Littlesea or Seth Clearwater or whoever came next in the chain of involuntarily shape-shifting teenagers.

Yeah, Sam agreed.

They were silent after that.

It was almost a physical relief for Paul to see his imprint that morning, taking her in and allowing her presence to distract him from all the shit with the pack as she opened the back door while he was still ten feet from it.

"You slept well," he noted with satisfaction. The shadows under her eyes were lighter, and she was looking him in the eye instead of staring at her feet like she usually did.

"Yeah," she said, stepping aside so he could come in. "I wish you could have slept at all."

He shrugged. No point in wasting time wishing life was different. "Not while there's a leech in town."

"That's what you have a pack for," she said, opening the fridge and pulling out a carton of eggs and a package of bacon. She nodded to the kitchen table. "Sit down. And then you need to sleep."

"I'm fine–"

To his surprise, she rolled her eyes. "We both know perfectly well you're exhausted."

Paul hesitated, then figured maybe the truth was best. "I don't want you wasting your energy worrying about me."

"I feel the same about you spending so much time worrying about me. Guess we're both gonna have to deal with it, huh?" Her words were sharp, but her tone was almost kind, something gentler than he was used to seeing in her eyes.

He shifted restlessly. "Knowing you're safe matters a hell of a lot more to me than making sure I'm meeting my daily recommended sleep quota."

She didn't respond for a minute, turning the bacon strips on the skillet. "I could come over to the rez and watch TV or something at your house while you sleep," she said finally. "Would that work?"

He ignored the instant surge of heat that thought roused in him, the thought of her scent on his couch, in his home, where she belonged. He fought down that baser part of himself and tried to remember how to communicate using human words.

"You'd do that?"

His surprise must have come out in his voice, because she glanced over at him curiously. "I mean, you need to sleep, but you don't want to do it while I'm in Forks. And you can't come over here in the evenings; you said my dad wouldn't want to see you." She bit her lip. "Is that weird? Should I not come to the rez?"

"No, no," he said hastily. "It's good. I… um, want you to be there. I just don't really have anything for you to do." He thought of the shabby interior of his dad's house, of how his imprint belonged in a mansion. With a fucking incredible kitchen, and a guy who never made her cry, and a whole lot of other impossible shit. Fuck it, he thought. She might as well know what she's getting with me. A drunk father and a shitty house.

"I promise I can keep myself entertained," she said dryly. "I don't need much. But if I get bored, I'll go see… Emily."

That hadn't been the first name she'd thought of, though. Paul knew it, and he wondered for the millionth time why the gods hadn't just taken the easy route and matched her up with Jacob Black.

Because she wouldn't grow with Jacob, he suddenly thought. It sounded sort of like his wolf. She wouldn't be perfect with him.

She's sure as shit not perfect with me, either, he thought back. Then he realized he was having a conversation with himself, and his imprint was setting a large plate piled high with fried eggs and bacon on it.

He looked from her to his plate, trying to form the words that would tell her what this meant to him. It was something so simple, but he'd never had anyone but Emily cook for him in years.

Bella gave him a small smile, and he wondered if she had felt him through their bond. "Eat before it gets cold," was all she said.

As he was beginning to suspect was her usual, everything was perfect. After he finished, he rinsed his dishes off and sat back down across from the table from her, looking at her more closely this time. He tried to understand how anyone, even a filthy soulless leech, could look at his imprint and see someone it wanted to kill.

She was innocent, she was good, and that belief had nothing to do with his imprint bond. It had to be something that only made sense to the bloodsuckers.

She glanced at the clock on the wall and sighed. "School," she said unenthusiastically.

He rose to grab her backpack from under the kitchen table as she pulled on her jacket. "Can I ride with you?"

He was getting better at asking her for favors, for putting himself in the position of weakness with her.

"And then you'll go home and go to bed?" she asked him pointedly.

He grimaced. He'd hoped she would have forgotten about that. "I'll sleep in wolf form in the woods near your school."

"Paul… you've got to sleep. Properly, in an actual bed." Her voice was firm, and he was impressed with that, as much as he didn't want to do what she was saying.

"I will," he said finally, reluctantly. "If you'll still come over to the rez after school?" He tried not to hold his breath.

"I said I would," she said, sounding surprised. "Ch– my dad's working late again tonight, so I won't even have to come up with anything to tell him."

The tightness in his chest loosened. "Okay," he said in relief, slinging her backpack over his shoulder. It was heavy, and he didn't want her to hurt her back lugging it around any more than she had to.

"Okay," she echoed, staring at him for a moment, before she pulled on her shoes and followed him outside to her truck.

"Oh, god," she muttered as she turned into the parking lot of her high school. Paul had the distinct impression that if she could have slunk down in her seat while still driving, she would have.

"'Oh, god,' what?" He peered around the parking lot for the source of her distress. As far as he could see, nothing unusual was happening. They were stopped in a long line of cars as the juniors and seniors ahead of them carefully pulled their hand-me-down cars into parking spaces that were still icy in patches from the winter. The students walking from their cars toward the school's entrance never glanced at Bella.

"My… friends," she said through gritted teeth, staring across the lot at a group of five teenagers who were huddled under one of the outdoor awnings. "I didn't think how this would look to them. A guy they've never seen before driving me to school…"

Paul held up his hands. "Hey, you're doing all the driving here, Miss Negative. You can just pretend I was a hitchhiker you picked up."

She shook her head helplessly. "It'll be around the school by lunch."

Paul peered across the parking lot at the group, concentrating on their mouths and focusing his hearing as much as he could. "The girl with the curly hair is happy for you," he noted. Happy you're moving on,he didn't add.

Bella nodded. "Angela. She's nice."

He concentrated on the distant voices again. "The rest mostly just want to know who the fuck I am. Tell 'em something good, okay? Not–" he added, insulted "–like the blond guy's 'model' suggestion."

"I'll just tell them you're my gigolo," she said with a wry twist to her mouth, and Paul was so surprised to hear her making a joke that he burst out laughing.

"Please, yes. And do it out here so I can see their reactions."

Her amusement faded as she turned into a parking spot and glanced over to where the teenagers were still staring at them. "I'm not sure they are still my friends," she said. "I haven't been much fun to be around, lately." She said it like she was trying to be casual, but he could tell it hurt her.

"I bet you're not giving them enough credit," he said, reaching into the backseat to hand her her backpack. "Just tell them you've been sad. I bet they'll understand." At least you get to keep your friends, he almost added, but didn't. Bringing his own shit into her life wouldn't help either of them.

"Oh," she said quietly. "I guess I could do that."

As she climbed out of the truck and shrugged into her backpack, he began, "This afternoon," for the third time. He was such an idiot.

"This afternoon," she agreed.

He sighed in relief. "Okay."

She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and looked at her shoes. "Um. Bye."

"Bye," he echoed, and hurried into the woods behind the school so she wouldn't turn and see his stupidly forlorn expression as she left.

It took the combined force of both Jacob and Quil's urging before Paul could bring himself to walk away from Bella's school though, his promise be damned. His wolf wanted him to be as close to her as possible. He wanted to be as close to her as possible.

Seriously, dude, you can't protect her if you're falling asleep on your feet. That was Quil, sounding serious for once. We've got this. She'll be safe.

I'll take care of her, Jacob promised. You know what she means to me, Paul, imprint or no imprint. Paul saw his thoughts flash to Bella, images coming almost too quick for him to follow. Seeing Bella at La Push for the first time in years, trying to teach her the names of all the motorcycle parts in his garage, sitting next to her on the couch as they worked on their homework together.

Paul didn't even have the energy to snap back that she wasn't Jacob's anymore, if she ever had been. Instead, he reached out further than he usually did into the pack mind, searching Jacob's thoughts and then Quil's, reading only determination and honesty in their intentions.

He rose on shaky legs in the forest, knowing he was close to collapse if he didn't sleep soon. But he had to be sure.

With your life, he half-told, half-asked Jacob.

His packmate didn't hesitate. With my life.

That decided him. Stumbling a little until he could pick up the pace and reach his normal loping strides, Paul ran home. He was already counting the minutes until he could see his imprint again.

Thanks for reading!