A/N: Ack! I'm really sorry this took so long to write, edit, and post. This chapter gave me all kinds of problems. I think the next one should be a bit easier, though! Now, two things:

1. Major thanks to anyone who has reviewed, alerted, or favorited this story. Ya'll are awesome, and even if this story doesn't have many reviews, the ones it does get always makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside.

2. I wanted to try something I've seen a few other authors do, just as a 'thanks' to the people reading. Anyone who reviews this chapter will be PMed a sneak peek at chapter five.

Again, thanks to everyone taking the time to read! I hope you enjoy. :)

"We change, whether we like it or not."

-Ralph Waldo Emerson

Chapter Four

"Well, what do you think?"

I keep my eyes on the stone fireplace as David walks up behind me. I already know I want to rent the house, but I'm not quite sure what his asking price is or what he's planning on for a lease deal. The whole idea of renting is nerve-wracking to me – I haven't stayed in a town for more than six months since leaving home. Usually I just stayed on as a boarder somewhere until it felt like time to leave or someone asked one too many questions.

"It's really nice," I say truthfully. I turn around to face him, meeting his eyes. His eyebrows lift questioningly at my unspoken 'but'. "I'm not sure I can afford it, though. I usually get by on carpentry and construction work, but no one around town seems to be asking." My mom's voice is loud in my head, admonishing me for not paying more attention during high school or staying near the reservation to work at dad's old fishery. This is the kind of lifestyle she always ranted about when I was growing up: alone and rootless in a mostly white world with no real job security and no guaranteed income. Somehow I get the feeling those lectures were meant to be warnings and not a prophecy.

David considers this for a moment. "Well," he finally says, "There's a widow in town who needs some work done on her house. She's been beating around the bush for months – afraid of getting scammed. If you're willing to ask a fair price and do good work, I could put in a word for you. We're a small community here, and if there's someone in town who can do the work we generally don't look outside for help."

What he's describing sounds uncomfortably like La Push.

I can see him notice my shoulders tensing, my hands balling into fists. A humorous smile crosses his face. "We're not the type to pry here. You're pretty far outside town limits, anyway." He lifts his hand and I'm left struggling not to pull away before it comes down on my shoulder. The pad of his thumb brushes against the line of thick tissue that mars my skin; and then he's frowning, staring at the scar spanning the length of my neck. "That's a nasty battle wound. Where'd you get it?"

I do flinch now. I don't know if it's some mystical wolf sense or if it's just in my head, but I can swear that the entire scar is burning, from the bottom of my ear to the edge of the opposite hip. My hand automatically comes up to cover the scar, which usually blends in with the rest of my skin until closer inspection. I struggle against the oddly defensive feelings that always bubble up when someone comments on it. "I had a falling out with some friends," I explain haltingly.

He looks shocked, if not any more wary about leasing the cabin to me. It takes him a second to put together a reply. "Some friends."

Paul's snarling face flashes in my head and a wry smile tugs at my mouth. I know firsthand that the wounds Leah inflicted on him after the fact were twice as bad as the ones I was left with. It suddenly hits me, though, that this probably isn't making me look like the kind of guy he wants living in his house. The last thing I want is to seem like the poster guy for every negative Indian cliché he's ever heard. "That was a long time ago," I say quickly. "I mean, I'm not going to cause any trouble – I'm not involved in anything that could wind up slapping you in the face. I swear."

It's the truth – I don't drink or smoke, and after watching my mom for years, some financial responsibility rubbed off on me. I haven't been around anyone from La Push but Leah since this all started. The most I have of home are a few pictures of her, my mother and step-father, and the Young girls. Thinking about them sends my mind down a path I don't want to walk today, though, and I snap myself back into the present. I don't want to make a bad impression by zoning out. For some reason David reminds me of some of the people I knew growing up, even with his pale skin and Jewish features. He's not the type of person I want thinking badly of me.

A reassuring smile covers his face and his hand comes back up to slap my bicep easily. "We've all got pasts, right? As long as you can make rent fairly regularly and you don't do anything illegal on the property, we shouldn't have any problems."

I should be jumping up and down at getting a chance like this. This middle-of-nowhere town seems like the perfect place to start over. I have the feeling that I could even settle in an area like this if I wanted to – and maybe it's time to stop phasing; stop running, period. After fifteen years I should probably be thinking about growing up.

Something is still holding me back. Being this far away from Washington makes me uncomfortable. Usually I'm somewhere in British Columbia or Alberta, or spending short bursts of time in a Midwestern city. The idea of being so cut off – of not being able to come if they need me – sets me on edge.

It makes sense, I guess. I've spent the better part of my life trying to put as much distance as possible between myself and that place. That day. But now that I'm finally doing it, severing ties with the pack in a more permanent way, my breath is coming hard and my stomach is turning to lead.

Because as much as I try to deny it, part of me needs to go back home. I need to see her, know whether she's like Bella or Edward or just like herself. I need to tell her that her parents loved each other and that they would have done anything for her; to tell her what happened, and that as angry as I am with them, maybe it wasn't Jacob's or Sam's fault. An explosion like that was almost unavoidable when there were so many uncooperative werewolves living near a coven of vampires, no matter how unconventional they claimed to be.

I made a promise to Edward and I broke it. The least I can do is make sure his daughter is all right. I want to know that Renesmee has heard the truth and that she's healing. It seems impossible, but I want to know that this thing we were all party to didn't ruin her life before it even had a chance to start.

What I need and what I want isn't really all that important in the grand scheme of things. Alaska isn't that far from the Olympic Peninsula, and there's never going to be a reason for me to run home anyway. Some stability is probably a good idea. And friends – people to laugh and eat and gripe with after so long on my own – that sounds good, too. I eye my new landlord, trusting and friendly. Good people, my dad would have called him. I offer my hand and he takes it with a broad grin. "You've got yourself a deal," I answer.

A weight slowly lifts from my chest and floats up so that all that's left behind is the memory. The wind screams against the roof in a poor impression of some animal's howl. It has none of the depth of a wolf's cry, eerie and guttural.

I think I'm going to like the snow.

:o:+:o:

Seth was jolted awake by a fist pounding heavily against his front door. A faint, gravelly voice soon followed the intermittent thudding. "Seth? You in there?" He reached up to rub his face with the heels of his hands and then peered at the alarm clock through slitted eyes. It was five thirty.

The pajama pants from last night were still on, the oversized legs catching his heels and protecting them from the small shock of the cold floor against his bare feet. He didn't bother to put on a shirt before heading for the door and opening it. A gust of snow, wet and heavy, flew into the house as David knocked his boots against the threshold and stepped into the living room. He was wearing a heavy coat, a scarf, and a ski mask that covered his entire face. The extra layers obviously weren't helping much; despite them he rubbed his hands up and down his arms briskly and stamped his feet for warmth.

Still shivering, he ripped thick gloves from his hands and let out a string of muttered words through his chattering teeth. Seth's werewolf hearing was able to pick up one or two mentions of cold and crazy fiancées, as well as some expletives aimed at the storm raging outside. When his hat and gloves were finally set aside he turned to his younger friend, his thick eyebrows meeting in a frown. "Do you have any idea how cold it is? Why on earth don't you have the heater on at full blast?"

His shoulders rose and fell in a nonchalant shrug. "I didn't want to shell out the cash for gas," Seth explained. That much was true – he hated paying extra when he really didn't have the money to waste. Most of the heating packages up here involved buying a number of gallons in bulk, any leftover fuel simply going unused if you didn't use the full quota by the end of the winter. The idea struck Seth as careless, especially considering his core temperature. He rarely had need of central heating.

"And that's why you're not wearing a shirt, I guess," David said dryly. He had kept his coat on and was now moving into the kitchen, toward the wood burning stove. His hands busied themselves examining the dented door, which he'd advised Seth to get fixed months ago, while he scanned the surrounding area for kindling. "Seth, this is the same load of wood that I dropped off in the fall," he accused.

"Well, yeah. I haven't really needed it." Seth had followed him into the kitchen and was now busying himself pouring a generous amount of water into the carafe and scooping coffee grounds into the top of the coffee maker. "Uh, sorry I don't have any breakfast going yet. If you can stick around for a few minutes I'll fix you up some eggs and bacon," he offered through a broad yawn. He was too tired to feel embarrassed by the lack of upkeep he'd done around the house. It really wasn't that bad, anyway; he was probably handier with a hammer and nails than David, who was too busy with his practice to fix much up.

"Nah, Nadia fed me before I came. She told me to bring you some food, actually. I have a casserole waiting for you in the car," he said absently. His eyes remained glued to the movements of his hands. Catching as he struck it repeatedly against the side of the stove, the match David had grabbed from the counter finally lit. He placed it carefully against the wood, making sure to feed the already dying flames a few napkins and position them near some of the dryer bark. Seth noticed for the first time that his body was still being wracked with shivers. It gave him a much-needed reminder to cover up unless he wanted more questions about his often bizarre behavior.

He cleared his throat awkwardly as he grabbed a sweatshirt from the coat hook next to the door that led out to the garage and pulled it over his head. "I, uh, could use a refill on my prescription." The empty orange bottle on the counter glinted in the artificial light as he spoke, catching his eye and holding his distracted gaze. He coughed again when his friend turned to face him in disbelief.

"You actually went through all of the sleeping pills the pharmacy gave you? Seth, that's twice the normal dose I would advise putting any patient on."

"I have –"

"– A fast metabolism, I know," he interrupted. Seth watched warily as he rocked back on his heels and drew a weary hand across his forehead. The dark curls matted to his forehead emphasized the deepening lines in his skin, ones which hadn't been there a year ago, and Seth's back muscles spasmed as he realized that he probably hadn't changed at all in that time. His body was stuck at forever twenty – his mid-twenties if he worked to look older – and he was saddled with the same hormones he'd been dealing with at fourteen. Until he stopped phasing after hard nights or invested in a long distance phone plan to keep in touch with Leah, that wouldn't be changing.

"Look, dependency on a prescription drug is just as serious and just as hard to kick as an addiction to anything you'd find on the street. I don't doubt that this stuff doesn't hit your system like it's supposed to – you'd probably have been hospitalized for an overdose before now if it did – but it's not healthy for you to be taking so much regardless." David's eyes locked onto his. He seemed hesitant but determined. "I think therapy might be a good option for you. This insomnia obviously has to do with anxiety and stress. You could have PTSD and I wouldn't even know from the little you tell me."

In years past Seth's anger might have had him vibrating dramatically enough to rattle the floorboards. He had always had better control than most of the other wolves, though, and after years of managing his random outbursts of anger he had honed his reactions in situations like these to a small shudder, which could be passed off as merely a reaction to the cold. "Therapy isn't really an option for me," he said quietly.

David snorted good-naturedly. "Therapy is an option for everyone. I can pretty much guarantee that whatever you've been through, there is someone who's been trained to deal with it."

Not likely. The thought drew a genuine smile from him, as well as a brief and painfully humorous mental image of the pack attending a group therapy session. Seth ran a hand through his hair again, grinning impishly as he tried to make light of the situation. "Yeah, you're probably right. I'm sure all little brothers have been forced into dresses by their older sisters once or twice, right?"

"Right. Lord knows mine pulled hers down over my head often enough – nearly scarred me for life." As the fire flared up he hurriedly shut the door, turning the latch to keep it closed. "Anyway, I'll write another prescription for you, but I'm cutting your dose in half and I won't give you any refills until January at the earliest."

His heart sank as he thought of the sleepless nights that awaited him, but Seth merely nodded. He wasn't stupid enough to think that all the leeway David had given him wouldn't cause some problems with the medical board if it was ever brought to their attention – there were a lot of questions Seth had avoided answering, and most doctors would have refused to offer any help without that information. He was lucky to have a friend who was looking out for him, and he knew better than to push certain boundaries.

"I can refer you to someone if you want," David offered. He seemed lighter now that he knew he wasn't going to be met with open resistance. "There's no reason you need to travel all the way to Anchorage just to find somebody. I'm sure there are some therapists on nearby reservations if you'd rather see a Native."

The grin on his face was probably starting to look clown-like, but Seth found it hard to think of any other response. Even after all this time, lying still left him feeling slightly sick, and there wasn't any chance that he would actually be seeking out a shrink to help him work through his nightmares; much less one who would give him ties to another reserve. His night terrors were better left alone, anyway. He'd tried his best to shut that day away and only bring it out when necessary, and there was always the chance that eventually he would be able to. Sooner or later the details would blur or people would stop asking, and then he would finally have the option of forgetting.

Sooner or later wasn't coming as quickly as he would have hoped.

"Or not," David surmised, sighing softly. He waved his hand when Seth started to talk, unsure of what he intended to say but feeling the need to apologize all the same. He had been ducking out of confrontations since he was little, but never had it made him feel this guilty. And a part of him, small as it was, didn't want to avoid the not-so-subtle questions.

"It's okay. It's just that we worry about you, Nadia and me. She views you almost as family – the baby cousin she never had. I don't want whatever's going on in your head to get in the way of the rest of your life."

"Yeah," Seth echoed. Knowing that he had as long as he needed to face the rest of his life darkened his mood somehow, as if his future was a moot point. They talked for a few more minutes before he walked his friend out, swallowing guilt over the fact that he had cared enough to wake up an hour early and drive out to see him just because he hadn't been around in the past week.

When the door had closed behind David and the coffee was ready, Seth threw on jeans and a pair of boots and headed outside. Mrs. Gable had been complaining about the time it was taking him to restore her end tables, and he hadn't exactly been enjoying all the time he had had to put in so close to the town gossip. Her prodding questions burrowed under his skin in a way few things did. Luckily for him, the aging widow was heading to Juno for a doctor's appointment this afternoon. Work generally gave his mind a chance to run free without wandering to places he wanted to stay away from, one of the reasons he tried to fit as many jobs as possible into his weeks. Today the hours of careful sanding should prove a pleasant distraction.

He walked away from the tiny house without bothering to lock up, not once shivering as snow buffeted him from all sides.

:o:+:o:

It was past nine when Seth reached home. He'd finished up early on the job that afternoon and run into Nadia on his way through town. She had immediately wheedled him into coming over for dinner, citing a brand new cookbook as her official excuse. Seth had given way easily. Nadia was always eager to get feedback on her kitchen experiments – which were almost always successes – and they both knew that if she could pull the 'company' card on David he'd be less likely to skip his evening meal to focus on paperwork.

The three of them had spent hours around the table after the Asian-themed supper, mostly trading stories from their day and complaining about the state's sky-high cost of living. After realizing just how much time they had passed, he reluctantly made his excuses and ducked out. Luckily, David's fiancée wasn't suffering from one of her infrequent bouts of nosiness and had let him leave with only a smile and hug. Going through the normal nighttime preparations now, Seth almost regretted not having an excuse to have stayed a little while longer.

Seth wasn't completely unable to get to sleep on his own: there were nights when he fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, most often when he was either unusually calm or drop-dead tired. Those nights were full of dreamless, uninterrupted sleep. The unnaturally high energy level the pack shared also helped. But when he wasn't occupied with work or something triggered memories of the pack, it was almost certain he'd spend the night tossing and turning. Even little things could set him off, like a tense exchange with someone or an empty refrigerator. The norm during those nights was to eat up time in any way possible. Usually he paced his bedroom floor or whittled something small, adding needlessly fancy detail and borders. It was only when he really needed to channel his emotional energy into something physical that he ran, and then it was almost always as a human. In wolf form he ran the risk of encountering too many unwanted voices.

He could already tell that tonight would be long and restless, most likely filled with the nightmares which had plagued him recently if he did manage to slip into unconsciousness. A sleeping pill or two would be the easy solution. Maybe that was the problem, he thought uncomfortably; maybe he'd been taking the easy way out on too many nights.

It wasn't as if he was addicted – yet. He knew enough about addiction to know that you generally weren't dependent at the beginning, though. Even if he wasn't entirely convinced he needed to stop, the closest thing he had to a best friend was. What David thought, not just as a doctor, but as a friend, should be important.

There's a pack gathering tonight. The thought came to Seth unexpectedly. Almost as soon as he realized what it meant he was moving for the stairs, ripping off his shirt and pajama bottoms. He should have an hour or so to himself, he realized with excitement. The only other person who would think of phasing tonight was Leah, and if her date went as well as she'd hoped she wouldn't be in wolf form at all tonight. He grimaced at the thought and resolved not to share a mind with his sister any time in the next few weeks.

Winds were unusually high, and the icy air buffeting his skin seemed to strip it away, bringing it back to him as something strong and new. He swallowed a delirious moan as the change rippled over him, muscle, bone and sinew all shifting around vital organs to form something else entirely. Phasing at will had never been hard for him, nor had keeping a lid on his temper – usually, at least. He'd had his share of outbursts in the early days. Everyone had. Now his dual nature was merely an accepted part of him. Sometimes he wondered if it was the only true part left.

Out in the arctic temperatures, with no one around to see and no secrets he had to keep, his body eagerly rose to meet the challenge of frozen snowdrifts and the dense forest. Every nerve ending in his body screamed in some exotic pleasure/plain combination that sent adrenaline racing through him at breakneck speed. Regardless of the feet, yards, miles covered, the distance he spanned was never enough.

For a few tense minutes the hanging guilt of running away coiled in his spine and made him falter, but time wore on and gradually the feelings receded as his motions became entirely about the chase. The ending destination was unimportant in the face of the peace the in-between provided him.

He was just beginning the loop back toward his house when Leah's mind abruptly invaded his consciousness. She spoke almost immediately. Seth! Thank God.

Images and sensations from her evening rushed over him in a confusing jumble – the sound of a young woman's frantic voice over the phone, telling her to get back to La Push immediately, the pressure of a wall digging into her back as her lips met her mate's in a desperate, needy duel, Jacob's chillingly deadened eyes meeting hers without apology.

What happened? He asked tensely. Without realizing it, he had quickened his flagging pace and was now flying across the ice and snow at a dangerous rate.

The question piqued Leah's memory of a pale face surrounded by messy auburn hair, the attached brown eyes growing in size until they loomed at the forefront of his vision. The sensation of remembering hit Seth and mixed with a sharp pull he couldn't quite identify.

Renesmee found out about Edward and Bella. She did something, no one really knows what, and now Jacob is saying the imprint is broken. Seth, she's a complete mess. She's saying she wants to get away from the pack as soon as possible – I don't think she's even going to wait to say goodbye to her parents.

Are they going to let her go? Can she even survive on her own? The underlying panic in her biting answer had his already alert protective instincts burning. The echoed memory of his own first months in Canada sent his ears flattening back and a small whine escaping from his throat. Thinking of a girl of the same age without the protection of werewolf strength or speed setting out alone filled him with the urge to run even faster, as if speed would somehow solve the problem. Everything his sister had experienced that night was still crashing into Seth in waves, and it was a struggle to keep from submerging into his own mind under the weight of her memories. He forced himself to listen for an answer.

They don't really have much choice in the matter. She's going whether they let her or not. And then, after a tense pause, Leah quietly thought: But if I told her to go somewhere – to someone – I think she would listen.

The unspoken request hung between them.

The ghostly scream of the wind pushing against him was suddenly quiet, all the usual wilderness sounds muted to his ears. Every movement seemed to make his muscles groan in protest.

Leah's nervous uncertainty throbbed in both of their heads until the pressure was almost unbearable. Through the super reality of the moment Seth found himself surprised there had even been a question. How soon should I come?

She sounded worn and entirely too brittle when she replied. Don't. I'll send her to you.