Alright wolf girls, here is what you've been waiting for. I give you Sam! I did my best with him, and I hope you all enjoy his story.
Vamp girls: please give it a try! I promise not do disappoint!
Writing's Sam's fic proved to be quite a challenge, and I think this one took me the longest to write, so I hope to live up to everyone's expectations.
Read!
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Sam – June 2005
"Gonna be a hot one again, I guess."
Sam Uley looked over at the tall, skinny boy he was working with. The sweaty, slightly questionable looking teenager was clearly uncomfortable having to ride with him in a truck for the whole day, but Sam could have cared less. There was only one more load to drop off, and then they would be done for the day. He kept his face completely somber as he answered.
"Looks that way," he said curtly.
"Heh…yeah…" Clay answered, tapping the windowsill of the truck as Sam drove. After a few seconds, Sam cast a dark look at Clay and he stopped his tapping in response.
Usually he didn't mind working with others, but lately he was in no mood for small talk, especially with this cocky, irritating teenager. Clay wiped his brow, tucking the worn handkerchief back into the front pocket of his overalls with a whistle. Then, he continued to whistle. Sam just rolled his eyes and fumed under his breath. They rode along the winding roads, soon pulling back into the main dock. They had just run a load up to Makah, and were on their way home for the day.
Sam couldn't have been happier for that day to end.
He looked up, wincing into the sun. The weather was hot and muggy, especially for June. Usually things didn't get that warm in Washington until the middle of July. With a grunt, he slammed the door to the truck after getting out. It was going to be a long summer.
Normally, Sam didn't mind his work at the local mill, just outside of Forks. He got to work outside, do physical labor that he enjoyed, and nothing was ever complicated. It was just cutting down trees and shipping them out. Lately, though, things hadn't been that simple.
He had always been a straightforward, level headed, calm guy. His dad had taken off when he was younger, and Sam had stepped up to become the man of the house for his mother. It was a role that he took in stride, and never really thought to question it. It needed to be done, so he did it. He had lived with his mother his entire life, helping run the house and do whatever she needed, which really wasn't much.
His mother had sacrificed almost everything she had in order to raise him. She had never had much of a social life while trying to raise a little boy on her minimum wage salary. Sam appreciated his mother, which was why he didn't mind so much when he had to give up a college scholarship for football. He was the first student from the reservation where they lived to ever be offered a full ride to college for sports, and everyone had been disappointed when he had to turn the offer down.
Well, they didn't all know what I have to deal with…screw em, he thought bitterly.
As he walked back up to the main office to drop off his paperwork for the load, he thought back to the fight they had had that morning. His mother had been worried sick and irate when he returned home so late from his girlfriend's house, and he hadn't wanted to hear about it. Lately things had become much harder for him and the only person that made it better was Leah.
Her long, raven black hair and almond-shaped eyes were all he needed to think about to make himself feel better. He had fallen in love with the spunky, no-nonsense pretty girl the moment she stepped foot on the reservation's high school two years before. He had been a junior when she was a freshman, so naturally people had raised some eyebrows at the relationship. Not that it mattered. Leah Clearwater had quickly become his reason for everything in life. She was sweet when she needed to be, but her fiery attitude and sarcastic sense of humor made him fall in love with her all over again each time he saw her light brown eyes.
Leah.
He felt instantly calmer as he thought about the night before. He had snuck into her window around midnight, after her parents had gone to bed. They had had to be quiet, but that only made it hotter for both of them. Being with Leah like that made everything in life have more purpose. Afterwards, he couldn't bear to leave her for several hours, thus creeping back into his mother's house at quarter to five the next day. His mother had been less than thrilled to catch him.
The year after graduating high school had been a rough one on Sam. He had gotten a job and became an adult, but his mother still expected him to follow her rules and curfews, even though he felt like a man. Lately, his temper had been getting the better of him.
He walked into the office of the recipient dock, gripping the papers tightly as he waited for them to be signed. As he thought about the fights with his mother and his unexplained sudden temper, he felt his teeth start to slice through his lip he was so deep in thought. Frowning, he could taste the faint traces of blood that he drew from biting his lip so hard.
"Here," the man at the window said, motioning him over. Sam slid the papers through and waited for the signature showing that he had delivered the last load of wood for the day. The man behind the little glass window gave him a strange glance, but quickly looked back down at his desk when he met Sam's blackening eyes.
He turned and left the office, jamming the papers hastily into his back pocket. He needed to think about something else other than fighting with his mother; he could already feel himself getting worked up. Anger began to boil in his stomach, moving up to his chest. He rapidly wiped his brow out of habit; sometimes the fury he felt made him almost feel hot.
Sam felt horrible treating his mother like he was; she hadn't done anything to him that was large enough to warrant his recent temper tantrums. He had begun lashing out at her verbally, unable to control himself. He would often shake with so much anger and rage over the silliest things. He was really starting to worry himself. Earlier that day, he had gone to eat his lunch in the break room when the soda machine had gotten a jam, preventing him from getting his drink. He had dented the machine when he punched it in anger, earning several strange looks from his coworkers.
His fits of anger were strange, especially since he had been so calm and easy going most of his life. Looking back at some of the spats and fits of rage he had experienced lately, they seemed silly and childish to him when he was calm. Even as little as fifteen minutes after a fit of fury, he would often be able to calm down enough to feel stupid about his blowup. He didn't understand what was going on. He felt like a petulant little child for acting this way, but he couldn't control himself.
Although he couldn't explain where these fits of rage were coming from, there was one thing that made him feel better and forget his worries: Leah.
He smiled to himself as he thought about how she had looked last night in her tiny bed, the moonlight spilling through her window onto her toffee colored skin. Just thinking about the contrast between the smooth colors of her body against the white cotton sheets made him lick his lips in anticipation for the next time they would have a chance at being alone again.
"Be sure that truck gets loaded before you leave here, I don't trust those guys screwing around back there."
He looked up at his boss, who just happened to be his girlfriend's father. "Alright, Harry," he called, nodding at the older man curtly. Harry nodded back at him, doing a strange double take when he saw him.
Oh crap. Does he know I was in his daughter's room last night? Fuck.
But Harry just continued back into his office, the same as he usually did. Sam frowned slightly, brushing his dirty, chin-length hair back away from his face. He missed his long, straight, raven black hair. It used to be down past his shoulders, but he had gotten it cut off when he got a full time job last year. It now hung down just past his ears, just short enough to annoy him, but not long enough to pull back.
He pulled awkwardly at his too-tight t-shirt, trying to stretch it out some more. The material clung to him, and in the current heat wave they were having, that was not a good thing. Frowning, he tugged at the collar of his work shirt, wishing he could cut off the sleeves and make the collar bigger. He didn't think he was gaining weight, but his clothes sure begged to differ. Everything was tighter and shorter on him these days, and he was quickly growing annoyed.
Why does everything fucking annoy me these days? He thought. Shaking his head, he headed back to the truck so that he could park it in the back lot now that they were finished for the day. Pulling the handle, he groaned to himself.
"Damn it, Clay!" he boomed, racing around to the other side of the truck. Clay sat on the back bumper, sneaking a very prohibited cigarette. Sam felt his insides clench at the sight.
"What?" he asked, quickly trying to hide the smoke.
"You locked us out of the fucking truck!" Sam sneered, smacking the back of it with a loud thump. The sound echoed in the yard, causing nearby workers to pause and look at what the commotion was all about.
"What? Oh god…I'm sorry Sam, I-"
"You are such a fucking moron sometimes, I swear to God. Why the hell would you do that? I told you to stay in the truck and I come back here to find you smoking?" Sam yelled, inching closer to his face. He clenched his fists and began to pant and shake he was so angry.
"What the hell? You don't have to go all ballistic on me, jeez!" Clay yelled back, stomping out his cigarette on the ground. He glared at Sam, who was growing angrier by the second.
"Get out of my sight you worthless piece of shit," Sam said, his voice lower. "Go home, try to do something useful, and pray to God that you're not assigned to work with me tomorrow," he spat at the skinny teen. Clay cowered slightly as if he was anticipating a blow, but instead Sam just stalked off. The other workers who stood in the lot slunk out of the way, clearly not wanting to get a taste of Sam's shameless temper tantrum.
Harry Clearwater stood in his office watching Sam storm to his truck with great interest.
Could it be?
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After bursting into the house, Sam stormed into the kitchen. He had taken the long way home from work to calm himself, and he was relieved to see that his mother was not home. He wasn't ready to deal with her just yet.
He instantly felt bad for thinking so poorly of her. He just hated for her to see him like this. Sam knew that losing his temper like this wasn't acceptable, and it wasn't him. His mother was just looking out for him, after all.
He slammed the refrigerator door shut after scarfing down the rest of a platter of deviled eggs that were leftover from an office party she had gone to. To counteract the bitter taste they left in his mouth, he made himself three turkey sandwiches with an entire container of new smoked turkey, and finished it off with a carton of juice. When he finally slowed down enough to realize everything he had just eaten, he grasped his stomach. He felt a little better, but he was still fuming about work.
How can that stupid kid expect to go through life like such a big fucking idiot?
Just thinking about it made him fume with rage again. He got up from the table, pushing up so hard that he knocked the chair over. He didn't bother to pick it up.
Once he was outside, he felt a little bit better, but still had a lot of pent up aggression to deal with. He spotted the woodpile out back, and felt a little more relief when he picked up his axe. Stripping off his shirt, he began chopping the pieces up, adding them to the pile behind him. Physical labor always helped him use some of his pent up aggression, which he obviously needed. He felt like he was literally going to explode.
Again and again he hit the pieces of tough wood, and each time he hit his target he pictured it as something that was bothering him. However, it began to have an alternative effect on him after awhile. Every time he thought about something that had made him angry over the past few days, the more he shook with anger. His hands even had a hard time grasping the handle as he chopped and chopped. Faster and faster he went, barely pausing to set up the new pieces. It wasn't even his goal to cut them anymore; anyplace to channel his rage was fine with him.
"Ah!" he gasped, dropping the tool. He gasped when he looked down to see that he had struck too hard with the axe, and it had fallen forward and sliced open his bare calf. He panicked; he was home alone and was already losing a lot of blood. He grabbed his shirt that he had stripped off and hastily wrapped it around his throbbing leg. This was not good.
His leg throbbed as the gooey blood dripped from the gash, a hot burning sensation covering the wound. This was very bad.
Hobbling into the house, he knew he would have to call for help, as much as he hated to do that. The cut stung and throbbed as he limped into the kitchen. The newly exposed skin screamed and burned in protest at the fresh air, and he winced at the alien feeling.
He would call his mom at work, and maybe then she could drive him to hospital. Turning on the faucet, he jumped up onto the counter beside the sink to rinse it off. He carefully pulled back his bloody t-shirt, prepared to see the gaping wound, and gasped.
Wait…holy shit…holy shit…my leg….what…What happened?
Where the axe had sliced his calf was now a scarred over, thin pink line. It still ached and stung a bit, but the wound was basically gone. He rubbed his eyes, dropping the t-shirt onto the counter, jumping down.
His leg had healed from an axe wound in less than a minute. Examining himself, he continued to stare at the place on his leg that he could actually see healing. The thin pink line was fading by the second.
Something wasn't right.
He blinked, trying to focus again as the line continued to fade until it was a barely visible scar. His breaths began to get labored as his mind raced over the possible explanations for what had just happened.
There were none.
He had sliced his leg open, deep, and it had healed in less than three minutes. He had seen the peeled back skin and the exposed, light pink muscles before he had wrapped his t-shirt around the gash. It had been there. He knew it. He was not crazy. Sam pushed his hair back out of his eyes, trying to think, wincing at the heat that dwelled there. As he felt his forehead and face, he realized that his entire body was hot. Too hot.
Turning to the sink, he ran some cold water and splashed it on his sweaty, dirty face. Sitting back down, he tried to make sense of what was happening, but still couldn't come up with anything. Healing fast and a fever over his whole body? Nothing made sense.
Sam nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard a pounding on the front door. He jumped up, his body feeling like it was on pins and needles.
Who is that? Mom wouldn't knock…why the hell am I freaking out about someone being at the door?
He shook his head and opened the white door to their house and was greeted by Leah flinging herself at him. He hugged her tightly, somewhat relieved to have her in his arms. He breathed in her calming scent of lilac and vanilla, hugging her tight against his hot chest.
She pulled away, her pretty brown eyes wide. "Sam! You're burning up! Are you alright?" she asked quickly. He shook his head and led her over to the couch, where he flopped down with a grunt.
"Lee lee…it's been a weird day," he said slowly, intertwining her small hand with his. He did a double take at his palm, marveling at how large his hand was in comparison to hers.
I'm twenty-years-old…Have I….grown?
He studied his hand with wide eyes, completely oblivious to his girlfriend who was watching him attentively, curiosity evident on her face.
"Sam?" she asked slowly, leaning forward, "Are you alright, babe?"
He grunted again and sighed, shaking his head. "I…I had a bad day…I dunno…things have just been weird lately."
She thought a moment, then nodded, folding her hands in her lap. "Yeah, dad said you went a little psycho on that kid Clay at the end of the day," she said. "Sam, that's not like you."
He frowned, his face curling into a deep scowl. "And how would you know?" he snapped. He pressed his lips together and looked down at his knees, instantly ashamed at himself for yelling at a woman like that. That was not how his mother had raised him.
"Don't talk to me like that," Leah snapped back. Sam resisted the urge to smile…Leah was not one to be pushed around easily.
"I'm sorry, Lee Lee…"
"It's okay," she finally muttered after a few minutes. She twirled a long piece of her black hair around her toffee color fingers, watching him as he sat on the couch. Sam felt her eyes crawl up and down him as she observed the changes in him. Sam felt horrible for snapping at her so much lately and for being such a jerk, but it practically felt like he was out of control.
Leah looked at him, her almond eyes searching his features as he sat beside her and fumed silently. He took several deep breaths in an effort to calm himself, and Leah grabbed his hand again, squeezing it. "Sam…you can talk to me," she said.
He looked over at her and offered her a tight smile, not sure what to say. Part of him was afraid to speak for fear that he would lash out again and say something nasty to his undeserving girlfriend.
She watched him for a moment, and then continued. "You've been…a lot angrier lately. I wouldn't take the crap from any other guy, but I kinda like you," she teased, poking him in the side. He jumped slightly, a small growl slipping from his lips. She jumped as well and looked at him incredulously, her brown eyes wide.
"Did you just…growl at me?" she asked quietly. He looked at her, just as shocked.
He looked back down at his lap, his breathing picking up slightly. What the fuck, Sam…get it together. Come on now….
He looked at her and was taken by surprise when he saw the pleading look in her eyes; she obviously wanted to help him and he wasn't being very conducive to that.
"Lee Lee…I just…" he trailed off, covering his eyes with his hands in shame. He had gone from angry to fine and back to angry so many times today that his brain felt like it was sitting on a roller coaster going at an unnaturally fast speed.
Leah sighed, grabbing the sides of his face and pulling him into a deep kiss. He gave into her slightly before he felt himself begin to tremble a bit. She mistook his shaking hands as encouragement and grabbed them to press them against her hips.
"Oh babe," she mumbled between kisses. Her smooth, inviting lips quickly helped him calm down for a few moments as they moved their mouths together passionately. Sam moaned as her strong but gentle fingers wove themselves into his shaggy, chin length hair. Soon, he felt himself grasp behind her denim clad knee and hitch her leg over his waist.
Leah moved to straddle him on the old sofa, her tall, muscular body fitting perfectly against his pelvis. He grabbed her sides roughly, groaning as she deepened their kisses. Anything to move her closer to him in this moment. Sam's body began to scream at him to take her right there on the couch, no longer caring if his mother walked in.
Just the thought of his mother catching him doing this was horrifying, but he couldn't stop himself. As she kissed him from her perch on his lap, he was suddenly overcome by the frantic, almost primal urge to rip through her pesky jeans and claim her as his in the best way he knew how. Animalistic, wild thoughts ran through his mind as he considered all the ways he could do this. The possibilities seemed endless as her sweet tongue caressed his.
He moved a hand up to weave it into her long, raven black hair as he pulled her closer. She whimpered as he grabbed her tightly, jerking back to break their kiss.
"Ow, Sam, ow…." She said, yanking his hand off her hip. He recoiled slightly, pulling away from her in shock. He had hurt her.
"Sorry! I'm sorry," he said quickly, holding up his hands. He looked at her in alarm, still surprised that he had hurt her by grabbing her hips so roughly.
Leah raised a hand and put it to the side of his face, stroking the smooth, russet skin. "Babe…you go off at work, you're acting weird now…what's going on?"
"Leah…."
"Sam. Please. I love you. Something is obviously wrong – I can see it! I'm not blind, Sam Uley, and it's hard for me to watch you-"
"Lee Lee, please…."
"No!" she interjected. "I won't stand by and just let you deal with…whatever is wrong by yourself," she snapped. He looked at her closely as her eyes narrowed and the fire that made Leah, well, Leah...ignite.
He glanced up at her quickly, his brown eyes darkening in defense. "What do you mean? What's happening with me? How do you know?" he asked, feeling the familiar sensation of the anger rising in his stomach.
She knows! She knows something is terribly wrong! Who told her? Why hasn't she…wait...no! Leah...this is my Lee Lee…she can't know… this is all in my head. My crazy...fucked up head….
"Sam…."
"You don't know anything, Leah…just…just leave me alone," he spat, jumping up from the couch. "I just…need some time."
She stared at him disbelievingly from the sagging sofa. "What the hell are you talking about? I come over here, you grab me and kiss me, and now all the sudden you're freaking out and telling me that you need time? Sam, what has gotten into you? And don't say 'nothing'. I'm not a fucking idiot Sam Uley, I know something is wrong!" she said, her dark eyes on fire.
He looked at the worn carpet, his cheeks growing hot with frustration and rage. He clenched his hands that had begun to shake as he desperately tried to calm himself. He didn't know what was going on, but he had a strange feeling that he didn't want to be around Leah when he got like this.
"Please just go," he said through clenched teeth. She looked at him in amazement, unable to believe her ears. He felt awful. He had never lost his temper with Leah in all the years they had been together. In fact, he wasn't sure if he had ever felt this angry in his entire life.
"Please, Lee lee.
She looked taken aback by his use of her nickname in this manner, this distressed tone. She turned her head as if she expected him to do something strange, but when he stood there frozen, she jumped up from the couch. Walking up to him, she took one of his hands, shocked at the heat of it.
"Sam…."
"Leah, please…just go. I…I can't handle this right now," he said. "I'll….I'll come over when I feel better, I just…can't right now."
She stared at him, her own dark eyes pouring into his . Dropping his hand, she turned towards the door. "That's fine, Sam. That's just fine."
"Leah-"
She yanked the screen door open, pausing in the doorway to look at him. "I just hope I'm there when you do decide to 'handle' whatever this is," she spat bitterly, turning to leave. Her long, wavy black hair spun out behind her, gleaming in the early evening sun as she marched out to her car. Sam's heart sank.
How could I have snapped at her like that? I didn't meant to…I can't have Leah mad at me. She's the one thing that makes me feel better…what is wrong with me? I'm a fucking moron, he thought to himself. He grasped his black hair in his fists, pulling at the strands in frustration.
He couldn't lose Leah. Everything would go to shit if he lost her. He had lost his father, turned down college, and agreed to say in dismal La Push. Leah was the only beacon of light in the dimness that was his life. He would do anything to keep Leah with him. This had to stop before it was too late.
Pulling his hands slowly out of his chin-length hair, his eyes gaped open as they visibly shook. His head jerked up when he heard his mother's car pull up in the driveway. He knew he couldn't handle another fight with her about last night – not when he was like this.
He bolted out the back door of the little house, running towards the woods. When he was in the shelter of the trees, he gasped and panted to catch his breath. Something didn't feel right.
Sam continued to shake while he tried to stop his racing mind as it poured and fixated on all the things that had made him angry that day. The images blurred through his mind in a mixture of one irritating thing after another: Clay, his mother, his fight with Leah…it all just made him so angry.
He kneeled to the ground, his lungs trying to catch their breath. He wasn't sure if he was going to scream, throw up, pass out, or explode. Clenching and unclenching his hands, he listened as his mother got out of the car and walked inside the house, calling his name.
I can't go in there…look at me...I'm…shaking all over….
"Ah!" he moaned as his arms began to shake as well. Looking down, he swore his saw himself blur. He continued to groan and wince as his entire body shook and spasm.
Am I having a seizure? What the-
He didn't have time to finish the thought. With a final groan, he felt his entire body begin to shake and stretch and finally rip. He screamed in agony as every cell in his russet body exploded and expanded, searing through him like lightning. He fell to the ground.
On all fours.
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What. The. Fuck.
He took several rasping breaths though his snout, trying to get a grip on himself.
I'm dreaming I'm dreaming I'm dreaming…this is all just a bad dream…holy shit…fuck fuck fuck….wake up Sam…come on…wake up….
He shook his large head, jumping in shock at the feeling of controlling what was clearly a much different body than he was used to. He took another trembling breath, looking around himself to try and decipher what had just happened.
I just…I just shook with rage until I turned into…what the hell am I?
He glanced down, marveling at the feeling of the new body he was now trapped in. He clearly wasn't going to 'wake up' from this dream anytime soon. Looking around, he quickly spotted a puddle at the base of a large tree. He carefully tried walking, unsure of what to do. He had never walked as an animal before…and he clearly was one now.
Peeking into the water, he jumped backwards at the hideous sight that he saw. Staring back at him was the biggest, nastiest looking black wolf he had ever seen. He fell back onto the dirt of the forest floor, stumbling over his newer, longer limbs as they got in his way. He snorted as he rolled over, something pulling on his spine as he struggled to collect himself enough to stand.
Oh my god…I have…a tail.
He felt a strange sensation in his lower back as he raised it up. Concentrating, he moved it back and forth as he tried to come to grips that he now had a tail.
I have a fucking tail, he groaned to himself. He jumped slightly when it tucked between his back legs instantaneously.
He took a deep breath through his snout and sat himself down on the ground carefully. Turning around, he frowned as his tail laid itself out beside him. He tried to focus.
Okay…normal day…maybe some temper tantrums here and there. Let's get this straight….I'm upset, I run to the woods, I shake and blur, lots of pain…and I'm a giant wolf. Somewhere I went wrong.
He felt his heart rate start to increase as panic set in further. His breaths became faster and more jagged as he tried to remain calm, but the fact that he had just exploded into a giant animal was starting to make him lose control over his mind as well. The fur on his back began to quiver as he fought to make sense of what was happening to him. When a panicked whine escaped his new mouth, he nearly jumped out of his wolf skin.
Did I just make that noise? Oh god…Oh god…I sound like a dog! I am a dog…holy fucking shit…What am I going to do? Am I like this forever?
His heart began to thud in his chest as the dread set in. What if the change was permanent? What would I do? What could I do? How would I tell my mother? And Leah?
No…this can't be permanent. I have to do something! I have to tell Leah that I'm okay…I will be okay, I will be okay… he chanted to himself.
Looking around, he tried to calm himself down a bit so that he could think straighter than he had been. Nothing seemed to help. He was a giant wolf. Any way he looked at it, something was wrong. Very wrong.
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He sat in the woods under some low hanging pine branches for several hours, trying to make sense of everything. However, no matter how many explanations he considered in his head, nothing really made sense.
He felt like himself on the inside. There, everything was normal, minus the bouts of anger and fury he was still battling. Even the trees rustling annoyingly made him growl under his breath. Everything still annoyed him.
So he sat, knowing enough that he simply could not exactly walk into the yard and knock a big furry paw on the door for help. This wasn't exactly something he could see a doctor helping him with either. With another chuffing noise from his nose, he set his new large face down on his paws. It felt a lot like resting on his stomach with his head in his arms, the way he used to watch television when he was younger.
Frowning, he realized that he still felt like himself on the inside – he just couldn't talk. When he tried to say something, he had instantly felt like an idiot as it came out a muffled whining sound. His tongue just wouldn't cooperate enough with his mind to form any words. It was incredibly frustrating to feel like himself but not be able to act like himself.
He wasn't sure what to do next. Nothing seemed to be working, and his panicked heart was still pounding in his chest as he debated whether the change would be permanent or not. What would I do if I'm trapped like this forever? I can't even talk- I won't be able to even explain to my mom and Leah that I'm a giant dog now. What am I going to do?
It was getting dark, and he would need to go home soon or his mother would worry. He laid there, on the edge of his lawn, safely covered by the trees. His ears pricked up as soon as he even thought about listening to see what his mother was up to inside the house. The sounds were different, more defined with his enhanced hearing. Sam noticed that they now sounded like they were being heard through a special hearing aid or something. Shaking his head, his set it back down on his paws to continue listening.
His mother had called his cell phone already, discovering it lying in the kitchen, where she had also found his bloodied t-shirt from his cut that afternoon. He winced when he heard her panic, and he counted her footsteps as he listened to her pace around the small house.
After nearly seven hundred frenzied patters later, he heard her pick up the phone and dial a familiar sounding number on the touchtone keypad in the kitchen.
"Leah?" She asked. He raised his head up, listening closer.
"Leah, is Sam with you?...He's not? Oh…oh dear…well…do you know where he is?"
He listened to the muffled sounds of Leah's response on the phone, and felt himself growing more and more agitated as he fed off her nervous energy.
"Well…do you know…anything about where he could be? Please Leah…I know Sam and I haven't been getting along lately, but I really need your help."
He listened again, growling to himself in frustration.
Okay, joke is over. How do I change back? Can I even change back? What if I'm stuck like this forever? I really am going to be like this forever…. His panicked, frenzied thoughts echoed in his head, and he could feel himself growing more and more flustered as the time wore on. He kept having the same worried thoughts race through his mind every few minutes – it wasn't getting any easier to calm down or think straight.
Waiting only increased his antsy behavior. A low whine escaped from his snout as he heard his mother pick up the telephone inside and dial the police. Within twenty minutes, he groaned inwardly as the chief of police pulled into the driveway with two other squad cars in tow. Sam watched as the forest rangers showed up behind them, every one of them piling into the house with Sam's mother to try and figure out where he was.
Can't say I expect them to find me now….he thought. He glanced down at his paws again, still in complete shock of what had happened. Every time his mind thought back to the way his skin had exploded and been replaced with fur, he began to breathe heavier and his heart would speed up.
His heart was thumping so fast he almost choked when Leah pulled into the driveway, rushing into the house. Her coppery cheeks were flushed with color and alarm as she rushed into the building, her raven hair flying out behind her. He heard her muffled sobs as Leah hugged his mother, both of them sniffling and crying.
He whined again as the forest rangers stepped out onto the porch, delegating who would look for him and where. It was practically torture for him to sit and listen to Leah's tortured wails as she sat in the living room. He could hear everyone moving around the house, the floorboards squeaking and people talking. It was strange to hear, smell, and see so many new details that he hadn't seen before, but in this body…it felt almost natural.
It was like he really was a wolf. He shook his head and tried to clear the thought out of his mind as he looked down at the black paws below him. There was no way he could really be a wolf…this all had to be a bad dream. No matter which way his mind looked at it, that was all he could come up with. It had to be a dream.
He watched from the tree line as Leah exited the house, escorted by Harry's good friend, Chief Swan.
"Charlie, I want to stay here!" she insisted, wiping her bleary eyes. Sam winced at the visible proof that his girlfriend had been crying over him.
"Leah, Harry already called and said for you to come home. There's nothing else we can do right now. Sam is a big boy, he's probably fine."
"But what if he isn't? What if he comes home and I'm not here?" she moaned, a fresh set of tears rolling down her cheeks.
Charlie looked at her sternly and tried to gently pull her towards her car. "No!" she huffed, yanking her arm out of his light gasp. She frowned her perfect black eyebrows at him as her brown eyes darkened in anger. Lifting her chin in defiance, Sam's heart swelled with pride as he watched Leah refuse to leave. Leah was magnificent when she was angry, as much as he didn't want to ever see her angry. He wanted her nearby…just the thought of her helped calm his frenzy.
"Leah…" Charlie sighed, shaking his head. He looked at the determined girl in front of him and picked up his radio. "I'll have the station call your dad and let him know you're staying with Sam's mom tonight," he finally relented.
Leah's face softened a little, and she uncrossed her copper colored arms. "Thanks…Charlie," she mumbled, her eyes falling to the floor of the porch. She quickly hurried past him and into the house.
Sam winced as he heard her shuffle past his mother and make her way to the back of the house where his tiny bedroom was. He listened as she lay down on his small bed, pulling his covers around her to wait. He somewhat enjoyed his enhanced hearing but that was all he liked about this new body.
Lowering his head down on his paws again, he sighed. It was going to be a long night.
He didn't sleep as the night wore on; he had to move from his position at the edge of the yard a few times as forest rangers combed the yard and the surrounding area for him. He was amazed at how quietly he could move through the brush. His large body obeyed his every thought as he avoided branches and ferns as he walked. Moving through the woods silently, he easily avoided being seen by human eyes.
This black fur helps too…
Sam made his way back towards the house, still marveling at how quietly he could move through the dense undergrowth of the forest. He smiled inwardly as he remembered practicing walking silently with his friends when they were little; it was one of the first things Native American children were taught when they could walk.
To move as silently as the wind, just like our forefathers did. Unseen, unheard, unnoticed…..
He frowned as something clicked in his mind. Forefathers…
Sam's eyes widened as one of the tribal elders, Quil Senior's stories came flooding back to him. The pictures that Sam had drawn in his mind of Old Quil's tales of their ancient ancestors turning into wolves to fight the tribe's enemies.
Can it be? Could it be true?
His mind reeled as he figured out that it was the only thing that made sense to him. Were the stories true? Could certain members of the tribe turn into protectors? It was the only scenario that fit so far.
The reality had set in with him. They were no legends…they were no myths, stories, rumors...no. It was all true.
It was all the history of what had really happened.
x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x
He watched as the forest rangers returned to their vehicles in the front yard with nothing. Pain stabbed at his heart as he watched the disappointed faces of Leah and his mother. His mother suddenly looked her age; her Native American genes usually were kind to her and made her look at least ten years younger than she really was. Tonight, however, her face looked drawn and worn out. She looked like she had aged five years in just one night.
He felt his ears prick up as he watched Charlie Swan prepare to speak to his mother.
"Any word, Charlie? Any?" his mother asked worriedly, swiping a tear off her cheek. Leah gripped her arm, both of them waiting with baited breath to hear any news.
Charlie sighed, rubbing his chin as he glanced back at the squad cars lined up in the driveway. "We haven't found anything besides the blood near the woodpile…but that might not even mean anything," Charlie admitted.
Sam winced as he realized they must have seen the blood from his accident earlier with the axe and thought the worst. Shaking his head, he realized that that felt like it had happened years ago now. A lot felt like it had already happened since then.
He watched as his mother began to fully cry now. "Oh, Sam…" she wept, clinging to Leah. Sam felt his heart start to break as he watched Leah bite her lip to keep her own tears from coming again.
"Now that doesn't mean anything happened. Maybe he came out here and just...had an accident. Sam is a responsible guy, he probably just went to find help and…."
"And what? Got lost? He's lived here his whole life, Charlie. Something happened to my son and now it's too late to help him!" his mother cried, raising her voice.
"We have to be realistic now. Something could have happened, yes, but we're doing everything we can to find him. We're going to bring him home okay."
The firmness in Charlie's voice calmed even Sam. Charlie had always had a quiet, determined nature about him that people had always liked. He was just calm yet assertive, a good mix of what the Chief of Police should be.
His mother began to cry a little, and then quickly sniffed back her tears. Leah rubbed her arm awkwardly, and Sam felt himself smile a little as he watched his girl try to soothe his frazzled mother. Leah was tough mixed with just the right amount of kindness, and he loved her for it.
Charlie winced and glanced out at the dark woods. Sam lowered his head as if to hide before he remembered that he was well camouflaged.
"Not necessarily. He could have just…wandered off. He always did like to be in the woods – maybe he just fell asleep somewhere out there. Leah said he had a bad day at work, and maybe he just needed to blow off some steam."
"But he usually just goes for a drive," Leah pointed out, her eyes falling on Sam's rusted truck.
"Well, I'm just throwing ideas out for you now, hold on."
"Charlie, just let us know if you find anything, please?' his mother asked. Sam noticed that she must be tired of arguing with the Chief of Police.
He stood as he watched his mother and Leah return into the house, and the police and forest rangers returned to searching for him. Despair settled over Sam and his family like a dark rain cloud. He had been like this for several hours now, and his mom and Leah thought he had been in some horrible accident. There was no way to fix this, and there was nothing he could do to change back.
The only thing left to do now was wait.
x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X
The days passed slowly for Sam after that night. He watched from the woods as the search continued, and he began to lose hope when their efforts slowed and eventually stopped. Leah returned to school, and his mother returned to work. The police had no reason to believe he was alive, even though they had yet to find his body. He winced as he heard one of the rangers in the woods talk about how situations like this were never good. The odds were against them.
Sam grew hungry after the first day, but had no idea how to eat like this. Could he eat human food? How would he get food like this?
He had run around the outskirts of La Push for several hours one day, his stomach grumbling and his tail between his legs. He had had to re-learn everything so far. Sleeping, going to the bathroom, even running. Everything was different with four legs and paws. And a tail.
On the morning of the third day, his growling stomach finally made him go closer to La Push. He could smell the tempting scents of food as if wafted from the few small restaurants in the center of town, but how would he do that?
I can't exactly walk into the center of town and hope that people don't notice a giant black wolf….
Sam huffed in frustration and twitched his tail. He glanced at it as it moved back and forth in an irritated manner. The fact that he had an actual tail still amazed him to no end. He could feel the base of his spine twitch as it continued to move.
He watched from the woods as the people of the reservation continued with their day to day lives; he had been a little sad when his mother and Leah had returned to theirs. It was almost symbolic of them, accepting that he was really gone.
He sniffed the air as a slightly rancid but edible smelling scent crossed his nose. Careful to remain hidden in the dense edge of the forest, he walked towards the source.
It smells kind of like food…but…it also smells like…like…garbage?
He blew the air out of his nose quickly as he crept from the tree line carefully, looking for the source of the slightly edible scent. And there it was.
The garbage cans that lined the back of the La Push Family Diner were placed in a group that was close enough to the woods that he guessed he could probably sneak up to them. Looking around, he made sure that no one was in sight before creeping out of the woods towards them.
He peered into the cans curiously, his stomach turning and gurgling as it demanded food after three long days.
Well crap, what do I do now? I don't have any fucking hands…or fingers…or thumbs! Damn it…
Poking his black nose into the side of the can, he winced as the metal banged on the ground as he fell over, spewing the garbage all over the ground. Food and debris scattered in front of him, and he looked around to make sure no one had seen.
Well...this isn't as bad as I thought, he mused as he picked up a hamburger bun and began to chew. The food in the cans hadn't been there long, so it at least was fresh garbage. That was at least how he justified it. Anything in his stomach was better than nothing after all. He couldn't exactly go home and knock on the door for a handout.
I wonder…could I hunt animals like this? What would that taste like? Normally I wouldn't want to eat anything raw but…but anything would be better than this, he thought as he chewed the lettuce from a discarded salad. He snorted and spit out the cherry tomatoes that were on top.
That's kinda funny…I hate tomatoes as a human, I guess I hate them as a wolf too.
He continued to eat for a few minutes before he heard someone coming. As pathetic as he felt about being interrupted from his garbage can lunch, he scurried back into the woods to hide. The diner employee quickly discovered the overturned cans and began to clean them up. Sam instantly felt bad for what he had done, but his stomach thanked him.
Walking deeper into the forest, he began to feel tired again. It had been a long couple of days, and he was beginning to feel like he actually could get used to being stuck in this new body. However, he really missed Leah. Several times he had circled the woods around the Clearwater's house, and he was comforted to hear Leah as she slept. He had watched her go to school that morning, his heart aching while she left. Her face was drawn and serious, just like his mother's. He had fought with himself to stay covered in the trees when all he wanted to do was run up to her and tell her that everything was okay.
Curling up on the forest floor, he put his head in his new black paws. This would just have to do for now.
x-X-x-X-x-X-x
He yawned and stretched out his long limbs, inhaling the clean, crisp forest air. The one good thing about sleeping outdoors in the Washington forest was that he awoke every morning breathing in the fresh air, and it simply invigorated him. Also, it helped that he never grew cold, even on the chilliest nights.
He stretched again, opening his eyes. "Ah!" he gasped, jumping to his feet.
"Holy shit!" he cried, looking down at his hands.
Hands…not paws…hands…oh…holy fucking shit….
He touched his face, then his chest, and his arms…yes, everything was still intact. He hadn't exploded like he thought he did.
This is so weird…go to sleep a wolf, wake up a human…holy shit holy shit…
He continued to freak out, looking at his human body for several minutes before realizing that he could now go home. Looking in the direction of his house, he quickly got himself together and took off running naked through the forest. Glancing up at the sky, he figured it was maybe still early enough that his mother wouldn't be home yet.
Might be hard to explain why I'm showing up almost four days later…naked.
He managed to beat his mother home, so he quickly showered and dressed himself. When he sat down to eat a real meal, he ate easily five times more than he usually did. Sitting back in the chair, he rubbed his stomach, grateful to have something in it. Outside, he could hear the unmistakable sound of his mother's car as she pulled off the main road and onto the lane their house was down.
Wow! I still have the wolf hearing…wait…does that mean I'm going to change…again!
He looked down at his hands as they began to shake. His heart felt like it had leaped up into his chest, and he swallowed quickly as he tried to regain control. Sucking in a few deep breaths, he tried to focus on not turning into the animal again – how in the world would he explain a giant black wolf in his mother's kitchen? That certainly wouldn't be easy.
His mother walked inside and instantly dropped her purse on the floor upon seeing her son sitting at the tiny kitchen table.
"S-Sam?" she gasped, rushing over to him. She touched his face and ignored his annoyed grunts as she grasped him into a tight hug.
Then she hauled back and slapped her son across the cheek.
"What the-"
"Where in the hell have you been? Huh?"
Sam stared at her blankly. Shit. I probably should have thought up an excuse before I walked back into the house, since I'm guessing the truth won't fly.
"Mom, I…I'm back now, okay?"
"No, Sam, I want to know where you've been!" she said, her voice rising. She paced around the kitchen table, looking at him incredulously. Fisting her hair, Sam winced as he noticed that she looked like she had aged considerably in the past four days.
"Mom…."
"Sam, you have some explaining to do. You do not appear to be dead, or maimed, or…" she looked him up and down. "Sam what happened to you."
"I…I…d-don't know."
"What the hell does that mean? Sam Uley, you disappear for almost four days and come back and say 'I don't know where I've been'? You expect me to believe that?"
Sam began to panic. He obviously couldn't tell his mother the truth – she would have him locked up for sure! And sadly, he couldn't honestly say that he wouldn't blame her for doing so right now.
"You have to believe me…Just…let's just drop it? Okay? I'm home now-"
"No!" she shrieked, frustrated tears spilling over her cheeks. "You can't just do things like that, it's so irresponsible and selfish and….and…we had everyone looking for you Samuel. Everyone!"
Sam lowered his eyes. He may be a practically grown man, but he knew that when his mother used his full name he was really in trouble. She continued to pace for a few moments before picking up the phone.
"Sam, this isn't like you. You've always been a good kid…I don't even know what to think!"
"Mom, I'm okay, I'm home now, what's the big deal?"
"The fact that you don't even know is amazing to me. You've never done anything this reckless ever! What has gotten into you Sam?" she asked, still continuing to pace.
"Nothing, Mom, I swear. Can we just drop it?"
"Is it drugs? Sam…you'd better tell me now if it is."
"No, ma, it isn't drugs!" Sam yelled, pushing back from the table. The chair went flying back into the wall, coming to rest with a clatter.
"Sam, I don't' even know you anymore!" she cried. "What has gotten into you?"
"Mom, I just…I just needed a few days-"
"So you just up and disappear?"
"I had no choice-"
"Where were you?"
"I was…I don't want to talk about it. Things have been hard lately…."
"That's no excuse!" She yelled. "You had us all so worried! I haven't slept in days I was so worried about you! And Leah…oh…that poor girl…."
"Mom, I'll call Leah, this will all be okay but yelling won't-"
"You just keep in mind everyone who wasted their time out there for hours and hours looking for you. You just remember that Samuel."
"Mom…" he was at a loss for words.
He sat while his mother continued to scream at him. She called Charlie Swan to let him know that Sam was home. He listened as they spoke.
"I…I don't know Charlie. He won't say…he…he seems different. I just…I don't know why…he's never done anything like this…I know…I know…yes…yes of course. I'm not sure if he…that's not like Sam to hang out with that crowd…he's such a good boy…I know…I'm not sure if he would ever do that…but…sure….Okay…thank you Charlie, bye."
He cringed from his spot on the couch as he listened to Charlie Swan ask his mother if he was hanging out with a bad crowd, or if she thought it could be drugs. Sadly, drug use was no foreign subject on the reservation. They had several drug dealers who peddled their poison in La Push, but Sam had never dared pay attention to them. That stuff wasn't for him.
He sat on the couch for several hours, his mind and body both completely exhausted. By the time he went into his bedroom for the night, he had given up trying to think of any logical excuses he could give her. Several times he even thought about lying. Settling into his bed, he marveled at how comfortable it was. Sure, the forest floor hadn't been as bad as he thought it would be, but his bed was ten times better.
Stripping off his clothes, he took a few deep breaths to cool down. It felt weird to sleep naked suddenly – he never had before but clothes made him too hot to even relax. He had struggled to keep a shirt on while his mother yelled at him – he was burning up the entire time. He almost felt like they would have melted off his body if he didn't get them off soon.
He laid there, the sheets pulled up around his waist and his hands folded behind his back. Sam wasn't really in the mood to sleep after the last few days. He felt horrible for lying to his mother – she had actually told Charlie Swan that she wasn't entirely sure if drugs weren't to blame for his strange absence.
My mom thinks I'm doing drugs. Can this get any worse?
Shame burned through his already hot body as he tried to relax enough to sleep. Maybe things would look better in the morning.
x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x
Sam had been back for a week. So far, nothing had happened. He still felt strange but he managed not to morph back into a giant wolf in the past seven days.
Not bursting out of my skin to become a dog…check, he thought wryly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Leah turn and look at him worriedly. Sighing, he rested his hand on her thigh and rubbed his thumb across her silky thigh. She shifted on the couch, moving towards him a little. He cringed inwardly, knowing what she wanted.
Since he had been back, things had been different with Leah. She had been relieved to see him return safely, but she had then promptly punched him in square in the jaw, threatening to do worse if he did that again. That was the only time he had begun to shake again. He had been scared to death to be around anyone since then – he had cashed in what little vacation time he had down at the mill to take a few days to clear his mind, so at least work wasn't a problem.
Leah had been more hurt than angry with him actually. He and Leah had told each other everything about themselves and they rarely kept secrets. Sam felt awful lying to his beautiful girlfriend. It was a shitty thing to do and he knew it.
He continued to rub her thigh as he tried to nonchalantly watch the TV. He wasn't even entirely sure what they were watching. They had been sitting there awkwardly for the past hour, avoiding much talking.
When Leah moved closer to him, his heart warmed but then nearly broke as he realized he couldn't give her what she wanted. They hadn't been intimate since his return and with good reason. The idea of losing control in any shape or form scared the crap out of him – what if it happened again? He would hurt Leah, and he wasn't sure if he could live with himself if he did that.
"Sam…" she crooned, nuzzling her nose into his hot arm. "You're so warm," she mumbled, rubbing her smooth hand over his bicep. He closed his eyes as her soft hands moved over his sore muscles. He had been growing nonstop for several weeks now, not much to his surprise. Nothing really shocked him that much anymore.
"I know," he said curtly, yanking his arm away. He just wanted to be alone right now, but felt bad that he had been avoiding Leah. She still looked just as worried for his return as she had when he had disappeared.
"Sam…what's wrong with you?" she repeated. She had asked him that every day since he came back.
"Lee Lee…I don't wanna talk about it," he said softly, taking her hand in his. She looked down at their joined hands and sighed.
"I can't make you talk to me," she said finally, leaning back against the couch. He gave her an apologetic look.
"I'm sorry, Leah…I just…I don't feel like myself."
"What does that even mean? Sam…your mom asked me if you were doing drugs and I said of course not, that's…that's crazy. But now…if she asked me again today Sam, I wouldn't be so sure."
Sam whipped his head to look at her incredulously. "So you think I'm on drugs now too? Excellent. Perfect, Leah. Just great. Thank you."
He jumped up from the couch as his fists began to shake. "Leah! Shut up already! I'm not on fucking drugs, alright? Are you happy?" He suddenly yelled.
Leah jumped from her position on the couch, shocked. Then, her eyes darkened as they ignited with anger and rage.
She jumped up too. "Don't you dare yell at me like that Sam Uley! I don't know who you think you are, but you don't speak to me like that!" she spat.
Sam fisted his shaggy hair, pulling at it. He didn't want to fight with Leah. Not at all. He loved her more than anything, more than life. Why could he not control himself?
The two teens looked up as Sam's mother walked into the house, dropping her purse on the counter. She eyed Sam and Leah in the living room, noticing that the tension could but cut with a knife.
"I'm leaving," Leah hissed, snatching her bag off the coffee table. She brushed past Sam quickly, not bothering to kiss him goodbye. He felt a pang of hurt as he watched her blow out the door.
His mother sighed loudly in disgust and shook her head at him. "Something's going on with you Sam, and you know I'd give anything to help you."
"You can't help me with this," he growled at her. His fists began to shake again as he stood there staring his mother down.
"Sam…something is wrong. Please? Everyone at work…."
"What?" he demanded.
"Everyone at work is talking," she said finally. "They said you've…started running with a bad crowd. Janis said that her boy started…acting different when he…started using."
Sam exploded. "It's not drugs!" he hollered. "Why won't anyone believe me when I say that it's not drugs? It's not, okay? Just leave me alone, I'm going through a hard time, just…just….argghhh!" he gasped, racing outside. He slammed the screen door behind him, letting it bang on the wooden door frame.
He heard his mother start to cry inside. Shaking his head, he stomped back to the small garage that he used as workshop. He had always liked to build things with his hands, but lately nothing seemed to help him. He couldn't even concentrate long enough to focus on one thing, let alone finish something.
Sam flopped down on the squeaky chair in the corner, resting his head in his hands. How had everything fallen apart so quickly?
x-X-x-X-x-X-x
A few days later, Sam was still avoiding everything and everyone. His vacation time at work had ended two days ago. His boss, Harry Clearwater, had called him several times, but he just didn't feel like answering. He knew that Harry would be wondering where the hell he was – Sam hadn't missed a day of work in the two years he had been working for him. Sam was ashamed to be dealing with Harry like such a coward, but he wasn't sure what else he could do.
He still felt…strange. Something wasn't right when it came to his body – he still didn't feel like himself since he had turned into a wolf, which he still couldn't really explain. Every night he would lie awake for several hours, trying to decide what to tell himself, much less everyone else. His mother came home every day from her work as medical secretary after talking with the other women, and each day she had a new theory. Anger and embarrassment would wash over him with every new idea she brought home.
However, today she came home and was silent as she moved around in the kitchen. He was slumped in his usual spot on the couch when she finally moved into the living room. The house was so quiet he could have heard a pin drop.
"Sam," she said. Her voice was short and final sounding.
"What?" he mumbled, not looking up from the TV. He really wasn't in the mood to be bothered. His whole body ached and had been troubling him all week. Everything hurt.
His mother pursed her lips in thought as she sat down on the couch, a safe distance away from him.
"Sam…some of the tribe's elders-"
"Aw, mom, come on…."
"Sam, it's for the best. They want to talk to you. Harry called me at work today – he's so worried about you Sam. You haven't been to work and Harry…he just wanted to talk to with some of the others."
"Why?" Sam demanded. He tossed the remote down to the coffee table with a clatter. He especially wasn't in any mood to speak with the tribal elders – not right now. They were always brought in as a last resort when local teens started acting up. All they would do is sit them down and talk to them about the 'Spirits' and the 'Brothers of the past' and things like that. They would spout off legends and tales of their ancestors, and then claim that they would frown down from the heavens at the troubled teen, should they be able to see what he was up to.
Sam thought it was a bunch of crap.
He respected it enough; if that was what some people of the tribe wanted to believe in and preach, then that was fine with him. He just didn't want to hear about it. Sure, he had listened to Old Quil talk about the legends and history of their tribe before, but that had been when he was a little boy and all that had interested him.
Sam sighed heavily. He was in no mood to talk to the elders.
There was a knock at the door, and Sam's mom jumped up to answer it. A few moments later, Billy Black, Harry Clearwater, Dan Ateara, and Old Quil Ateara Senior all walked into the small living room.
Sam looked at them for a moment before rising. Just because he was in a bad mood didn't mean he had to be rude to these old men. He at least owed them that.
He reached out to shake Old Quil's hand first. "'Afternoon," the old man said, grasping his hand. Suddenly, Sam felt the man's hand tighten around his own, much tighter than usual.
Sam looked down at his burning hot hand in alarm. Maybe I shouldn't have let him touch me, he though in a panic.
The other three men looked at Sam in concern as Quil's eyes widened. He grasped Sam's hand in amazement, shaking it slowly. His dark, old eyes were wide in question as he shook it. He looked from Sam's hand to his eyes. Suddenly, he dropped it.
"Sorry!" Sam said quickly, reaching out in alarm. Old Quil gave him a weak smile as he rubbed his own hand on his side.
"S'ok," he mumbled quietly, looking back at Sam.
Sam looked at the four men as they seemed to have a nonverbal conversation between them. Old Quil nodded, and Billy, Harry, and Dan all seemed to understand.
"What?" Sam asked frantically, looking between them.
They all said nothing.
"What's wrong with me?" Sam finally asked, his voice rising. He suddenly had the feeling that the four of them knew about his little problem.
"Nothing is wrong with you," Harry said gently. "But my suspicions have been confirmed."
"What?" Sam asked. His heart began to race. He glanced down at his hands and realized that they were beginning to shake.
Oh no…no…not here…not now…they might be able to help me!
Sam's mind raced as he fought to maintain control. Old Quil's eyes widened as he focused on Sam's shaking hands.
Sam rubbed his hands together, his eyes now wide as he backed away from the four men. He looked to the kitchen - his mother was there. This couldn't be happening. Whatever happened to him the first time that he exploded was happening again.
"No…I…." he swallowed nervously, sucking in several deep breaths.
"Calm down, my boy," Old Quil said cautiously, holding out a hand.
Sam sucked in some more breaths of air, trying to focus. His hands started to slow as the four of them exchanged another knowing look.
"What's…going o-on?" Sam stuttered, his eyes wide. He was scared – that was the closest he had come to…exploding since the first day.
"Are you alright?" Billy asked, looking at him strangely. Old Quil looked down at his hand that he had used to shake Sam's and nodded.
He said something in Quileute and Sam frowned as he fought to regain control of himself.
It sounds like he said something about legends? Crap I should have learned better Quileute… Sam thought as his breaths slowed. He tried not to let the fact that they were speaking regarding something he wasn't supposed to know about make him angry.
"Sit, my boy," Old Quil finally said. "We have much to talk about."
Sam looked at them questioningly, but suddenly had a strong sense that they might be able to confirm some of his worst fears.
Could it be? Could the legends be true? He could only hope at this point. If they confirmed it for him, that would be the only thing at this point to save his sanity.
He met eyes with Old Quil as the elderly man sat down in the armchair across from him. The old man's dark eyes met his, and Sam sucked in a violent breath.
Sam frowned as the memories of bonfires as a child came flowing back into his mind. Tales of wolves and mortal enemies and changing to become warriors….it all came back to him in clear detail. They weren't legends at all, just as he had feared. Old Quil cleared his throat to speak, and Sam looked up at him.
He only had to glance briefly into his old eyes to know – it was all true.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
Well I hope I didn't disappoint! I hope I was at least able to keep you straight team-vamp girls happy while I write the wolves. My lovely beta is a vamp girl, and she said that her hatred of the wolves is lessening due to these chapters about them (haha love you beta)
So I hope you all enjoyed Sam. Trying to write his confusion about his first phase was very hard, so I hope I came close and did it justice. Sorry for all the cursing, but I couldn't imagine that he wouldn't be freaked – those wolf boys have dirty mouths ; )
I tried to weave as much of Leah into the fic as possible because I love her character, so I hope my Leah fans were happy with that.
a *HUGE* thank you to my lovely beta, Rain-It-Shall for betaing this fic (like I said, even though she is a vamps only girl) and for doing such a lovely job of it. Please check out her fics - she writes a great Edward, and her one shots are esp. cute!
Please review! I really want to know what ppl thought about the wolves, as Sam is the first one. Paul is next, followed by Jared!