Chapter Summary: Bella finds herself at the mercy of fate and Paul, neither of which she is exactly thrilled about; yet she can't help but feel something when Paul's small and random acts of kindness leave her wanting more. The first day of Sam's new arrangements and under Paul's watchful eye, Bella wonders if it would have been better to let Victoria have her way.

Chapter VI: 'Fade Away,' by Seether

BPOV

Two days later

I paced back and forth in front of my red Chevy, anxiously waiting for Paul to come outside. This is the day, Bella, I thought. This is the day that Paul moves in. Can you feel the excitement? I asked myself cynically. I loathed the internal workings of my mind, relishing at the same time as hating, the fact that Paul would be coming out of Jacob's house and getting into my truck. Billy had asked Paul to stop by first, but he hadn't given a reason. Maybe he needed a brush-up on manners. I wasn't sure. My nerves were shot, excitement and all, but I also had to confess that I was already getting impatient and I hadn't even had Paul in my house yet.

Renee and Phil had left for Jacksonville that morning and I missed them already. They had only been able to stay a few short days due to Phil's minor league schedule. Renee had wanted to stay behind a bit longer, but I had assured her that I would be safe-as safe as Bella Swan could be anyway. Renee didn't know that I really wouldn't be alone; Paul was going to be staying with me, in the house, unsupervised. If any of the people in town found out, I would be the town floozy in a heartbeat. There was no question about that-another calamity I would have to deal with, in addition to having an angry and growing teen werewolf in my house.

"What were you thinking, Bella?" I exclaimed loudly to myself. "You don't know this kid. Not really. Jacob hates him, that's for sure. The reservation sure doesn't like him. Your friends from Forks don't really care for him either. His own pack isn't that fond of him. Do you even like him? This is never going to work. This is not going to work," I repeated the last phrase over and over again, not sure if it was really me that was saying the words or if this was just a continuation of a dream that I was having. No, Bella. This is no dream because Charlie's not here. Charlie would still be alive. Your dad would still be alive and you would not have had to cope with him leaving so soon after Edward.

I continued to wipe at my face with sleeves that were too long, making me quickly remember Jacob's giant paws on my shoulders, licking my face to cheer me up a few nights ago. Jacob was such a special kid; he knew how tough it had been for me since the accident last week.

Accident? Bella, do you really think it was an accident or do you believe the hype around town? Have you started to believe the lies you have been telling the townspeople in Forks? Oh Bella, silly girl.

I cringed at the echo of my own voice, thumping in my head. It was no accident. I could fool myself about a lot of things, but losing Charlie last week-I could not deny-was my fault. The pack may not have thought so, and certainly, Renee, Phil, and the town didn't think so either since I had been at home when it happened, but I knew. Renee could call, groan, and pester all she wanted, but I couldn't go to Jacksonville and mess up her new life.

I didn't belong there.

Besides, I couldn't leave Charlie. I couldn't let his death be meaningless when I had been the one Victoria wanted. She should have came after me first. Charlie would have been left alive and I would have been dead, as I belonged. However, she didn't and I was fresh out of tears.

There was another reason I couldn't leave; Billy and Jacob were as a part of me as Charlie had been-closer than Renee even. Jacob would have been devastated if I left him.

You'd miss Paul too much anyway.

I almost gasped. Miss Paul? Why would I miss Paul? You don't know him. Suddenly a hot, young werewolf is staying in your house for the next few months and you're abruptly ready to throw your future out the window?

"I might not have much of a future left," I voiced. Bella's days are numbered. Case closed.

I scoffed at myself. "You're wrong." I addressed my image in the window. "It wasn't even my idea to have him stay with me. It was Sam's." It was Sam Uley's fault. If this situation actually became a problem, I could always blame Sam.

I began pacing again. I must have been out of my mind. Paul had never shown that he meant me harm or even acknowledged me, other than a few, crude words in passing. Paul genuinely appeared to hate me as much as he hated everyone else. Or at least he liked me as much as everyone else. I didn't know anymore. Everyone in the pack was right; I was nuts for taking Paul in.

I pulled at my hair some more, making it look like I was primping myself in the window. "Get a grip, Bella. Get a grip," I resumed.

"Getting yourself ready for me, babe?" a voice behind me called.

My neck jerked back, already letting my temper get the better of me.

Billy wheeled himself out of his house, speaking with an even deeper tone of voice that reminded me of a stern father protecting his own daughter.

"Hey! Show some manners to Bella," Billy sounded. "She's actually being nice and giving us a break from you for a while."

"She's a real angel," Paul said sarcastically. "I can see her halo from here-oh wait, that's a target."

I still had my fists clenched. How dare Paul make fun of my unwanted, impending danger? Also what was worse, had Paul just called me 'babe' again?

I stamped my feet while walking over to him, already annoyed. I stopped a few paces short of him. "Don't call me 'babe' either," I stated sternly.

"Whatever you say," he commented snidely. His head turned toward my Chevy, and his nose twitched as if he smelt a vampire near. My eyes grew in alarm. "That beast looks like shit."

I fought the urge to hit him. This would not be easy at all. "Don't hate the truck, and shut up and get in the car."

Paul stared at me but said nothing, swinging his bag of belongings into the cab and covered most of the driver's seat with it. He knew damn well he was going to have to move it. I didn't care how small I was compared to his huge 6'5 frame; I was not going to drive him back to the house with his bag in my lap just because he didn't think my truck was good enough to hold him in it. What a prick.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Bella?" Billy asked me again, for the thousandth time since Sam had brought it to everyone's attention some days ago. "Your father would have a coronary."

I smiled a little, meaning it. "It'll be fine, Billy. I won't hesitate to rub Paul's nose in the rug if he pees on the floor."

I heard Paul snort loudly from my right.

"Okay then. Jake will be by later if you need some time away from that one." Billy pointed, not bothering to keep his voice down.

"I appreciate that, Billy. Tell Jake and the rest of the pack thank you for letting me borrow him."

"We should all be thanking you. He's been a problem for a few years," Billy said, looking toward the truck. "And Bella, don't hesitate to call if you need anything-even a gag."

"I won't—Aaah!"

I covered my ears as the sound of my loud horn blared abruptly. It was about the only thing that worked in my car on a consistent basis. "Ugh!" I screamed again at the noise.

"Can we go now?" Paul asked in an ugly voice, calling back toward Billy and me. "I've gotta scratch and I'm afraid I'll get stuck in this car permanently if I move too much."

I rolled my eyes and turned to face Billy again. "He'll be fine."

"It's you I'm worried about," Billy declared in concern.

"Then I'll be fine, too." I kissed Billy quickly, afraid that my horn would take another beating from Paul. I walked to the window and gave him the meanest look I could muster.

"About time, Swan," he said impatiently.

I continued to look at him, watching his strong jaw and listening to his horrid tone, but I wouldn't allow myself to be affected…much. "Do you mind?" I asked, as I looked down at his bag and then back at him.

"Yeah, whatever." He lifted his duffel, pushed it through the window of the cab, and into the bed of my truck. I heard the bag struggle to make it through the window. I started to say something, but didn't want to push my luck. Paul really did look as if he'd be like tuna in a can if he moved much in my truck. "I moved the bag. Get your ass in the car and drive."

"Don't talk to me that way. Do I need to set down a few rules for you?"

"I'm hungry," he announced.

"Is that what's wrong with you?" I inquired.

He said nothing at first. His mouth moved, looking as if he were struggling a little. "No," Paul finally answered.

"So what's the matter?"

He looked frustrated. "Can we just leave? I've been on the rez long enough, and when I finally get a chance to leave it, you prolong my stay," Paul huffed. "Get in the car and let's go get something to eat. I'm buying."

I looked bewilderingly at him. "Buying?"

"Yeah, I'm buying the food. You. Car. Now. Drive."

I wanted to get moving, but I was still unsure. "Buying?" I repeated.

"Jesus Christ, think of it as a date for all I care. Just get in the truck before I start to lick the paint chips off your car," he said nastily.

I groaned, casting an imploring glance at Billy, and he gave me a knowing look back. Told you so, Bella, it screamed.

My hand slapped my forehead and after some moments of asking myself why I was doing this again, I got into the car finally, not knowing what else to say to my new guest. I turned the key in the ignition and Paul looked as though he had relaxed, stealing the oxygen in the cab by inhaling so deeply. His arms were now calmly at his sides and there was an almost silent hum coming from his chest, like a generator that had just found an extra source of energy within. Paul looked as though he were positively in heaven, sitting so close to me and breathing me in.

"Thank you," he said much more quietly.

I was almost speechless. "You're welcome," I replied as I started to drive to town.

I took Paul to Bunhouse, a small burger franchise similar to Burger King and Hardy's, except they were the only eating place in town that gave money to anybody who could eat three of their special 48 oz burgers in the allotted time set by management. High school boys and just plain dumb ol' college kids came through Forks sometimes in droves to try and to finish just one of the special 48 oz burgers to be able to have their lunch free that day and no one had yet to take the money home. The competitive order was called the "Colossal Three," named for it's three lbs of beef, and Paul had just asked for four orders of them.

My eyes widened along with the rest of the customers' as Paul easily balanced the two giant trays of food and sat them down at our booth.

"Uh...way to be inconspicuous about your freakish werewolf strength, Paul," I said cynically.

"Didn't I said I was hungry," Paul repeated harshly. "I don't much give a shit."

"I'm aware of that."

Paul looked at me, taking a huge bite of one of his burgers-a sloppy thing dripping with onions, tomatoes, and dressing that I couldn't quite make out between the two buns and slab of thick beef. "Here," he said, tossing a clear, medium-sized plastic cup in my direction. It was a salad.

I looked at him.

"I thought you might be hungry. I said I was buying," he stated simply as if he did things like this all the time.

My fingers tapped on the translucent container a few times before I palmed it, bringing it closer to me. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it," Paul said nonchalantly. "Besides, I don't need you passing out famished behind the wheel while you're driving me around. You have that kind of luck."

I blinked. "Why is it that when you do something extremely nice, something nasty always has to come out of your mouth?"

"Well, what would you like to put in my mouth instead? Maybe what comes out will be a little more to your liking."

I glared at him. "I don't like you speaking to me like that and I would appreciate it if you would stop doing it."

"Well, aren't you all taut, Ms. High and Mighty?" Paul asked rhetorically before adding, "And no fucking way."

I gulped and placed my fork onto the napkin. "Paul, if we're going to live together, we'll have to come up with a few rules or something to keep things between us civil. Wouldn't you agree? You can't possibly like this enmity between us."

"Don't know what that e-word means," he said, while grinning.

I pushed my tongue to the roof of my mouth, knowing that he was playing dumb. "Yes you do, Paul. You just used the word 'taut'."

"That was only a few letters. I heard it in a movie."

I sighed. We were going nowhere, and fast. "Alright, how about this? Why don't we start out by telling each other a little about ourselves? Do you want me to go first?"

"When I said you could treat this like a date earlier, I didn't think you would actually take it to heart," Paul cut in. "I'm not in the mood to pretend like I care about where you're from, what you're going to do with your life, and how many pets you have at home."

"I don't have any pets, Paul. However, I will have one, big dog in my house for at least a few weeks, and I would like to get to know him a bit better before I make him sleep outside," I threatened, now fed up.

"I won't be laying at the foot of your bed every night, sweetheart." Paul's tone was nasty as he glowered at me across the booth's table. "You better go to Black for that bullshit. He likes licking your face and pretending that you're the greatest person in the world. That's not my thing."

"So what is your thing, Paul?"

"Right now it's eating, and I'd like to enjoy the rest of what is soon going to be a free meal if you can stay quiet long enough. Eat your salad," he ordered. "I was serious about you not fainting. I don't want to have to work to save your life on the first afternoon I'm watching you."

I trembled, fighting back tears. I stood up abruptly, shaking the table. Paul barely glanced up, lifting his now final burger of his second 'Colossal Three' orders-only six more giant burgers to go. That gave me maybe 10 minutes to clear my head.

I murmured at him, "I'm going to take a walk. I'll meet you by the car." I was afraid to let my voice go any higher for fear that I would collapse right behind my sentence.

I turned away from him and walked toward the exit door, the small squeaking of my sneakers following close behind. I folded my arms across my stomach, now positive I was going completely nuts. I had no idea what made Paul hate me so much. Or did he just hate anyone who tried to understand him? I didn't remember ever offending him; in fact, he had been the one who was defensive, standing in front of me as if he would have liked nothing more than to have me hit him. I really did believe Paul would not have hurt me even if Jacob hadn't stepped in that afternoon, but the anger in his voice was completely different than from what I saw in his eyes or the things he did for me.

The salad.

My mind jumped back to his most recent, kind act. The salad; why would he buy me a salad? Why would he even care that I was hungry? Mr. Macho had a heart somewhere in that giant chest of his and I was going to find it. Or I really was going to have to lock him out of the house for a few moments of peace.

This has got to work. This has got to work. For Charlie's sake, this has got to work, I promised myself.

"Bella. Bella Swan, come here," a male voice demanded of me, interrupting my internal monologue.

I turned toward the small curbside parking lot to my right, meeting the eyes of three guys from school that I was only vaguely familiar with. I was thinking they were friends of Mike's, but I couldn't be sure. They wore the same varsity blue and gold Spartan uniform Mike had, but I never remembered seeing them eat at our lunch table before. Maybe Lauren had mentioned them in passing at some point. Was that middle one with the thick brown hair Vincent? I couldn't remember.

I suddenly wished that my mind hadn't been in such a fog the last few months, even after Charlie's death. Well Bella, if a simple, little thing like death was too trivial in the precious life of Bella Swan, then by all means, share with these three jocks what it means to have fun, my head's voice maliciously spat back.

"Hello. Can I help you?" I asked, trying to be friendly but also keeping my distance. I still didn't know them very well, classmates from Forks or not.

"How you been doing lately?" the blonde with dark green eyes asked.

"Yeah," the brown haired one I thought was named Vincent added. "We were real sorry to hear about your dad. How have you been holding up?"

I relaxed a little. Just a few questions I could actually answer. No big deal. "I've been okay," I said back, not wanting to give away any more than that.

"Yeah? Want to come over and talk about it?"

Another boy, mousy with freckles strewn across his face, got up and walked over to me. I dipped my hands into the tops of my jean pockets before taking a slight step back.

"No, thank you," I answered back politely. "I have a friend waiting inside."

"So, what are you doing out here?"

"Yeah, come talk to Vincent about it."

So his name is Vincent. Score one for you, Bella; you got a name right. Congrats.

I shrugged. "I just needed some air. Not a crime, right?"

"Well, the police chief would know, but we don't seem to have one right now," the blonde replied.

I blinked back a tear before crying out, "What do you want?"

"To talk," Vincent said.

"Yeah, just hang out and talk a little with us," the freckled one suggested. He gripped my arm suddenly and gave me a little pull. I wrenched my wrist from the boy and placed my feet slightly apart to help resist my legs from moving any further. The mousy boy was stronger than he looked; my feet started to kick some of the pebbles.

"Get off of me," I started to shout. "Let go."

"Relax. We just want to talk," Vincent repeated.

"Not a crime," the blonde one chimed in. "Right?"

I shook my head as the mousy one finally got me to the small red Volvo, pushing me toward an opened door. I tried to jerk my arm, but nothing would make the boy relinquish his grip on my wrist until I was in the small car.

"Watch your head, love," Vincent cackled as he blocked my way out. The boys continued with their adjoined chuckling, and my adrenaline was now in full swing, nervous about what was going to happen next. I started to contemplate pleading with them to let me out of their car when I heard the blonde grunt, dropping to the floor. The mousy boy managed to slam the car door, almost nicking my fingers when he himself let out half a yell and was thrown onto the hood of the car. I then saw Vincent backing up from an angry Quileute, placing his hands in front of his chest as if that would somehow soften the blow; it didn't.

Paul pushed him into a small, low wall, putting his foot on Vincent's shoulder. He looked as if he wanted to press down into his collar.

"Paul!" I cried out behind the car window.

Paul glanced at me and flexed his fingers. He pulled Vincent's head up by his hair and hissed loudly, "The next time a girl says 'no,' she means it." He then dropped the boy's head back down. He walked over to me and broke the car window unnecessarily; the door wasn't locked.

I got out of the vehicle, relieved to see him. "Oh Paul, I—" I started to hug him when he pulled back.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he roared.

I stammered, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I don't know what happened. They're guys I know from school, and—"

"You're not immortal!" Paul screamed.

"I know, I know," I repeated. The last thing I wanted to be was rescued again; at least the boys had been human. Somehow, I didn't think Paul cared too much right now. He was still standing defensively, glowering, his face scolding me with a look that one gives a small child. An incapable, small child. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen. Please, I'm really sorry—"

"Don't ever leave me again!" he interrupted.

I blinked, taken aback by his last statement. "What?"

Paul shook his head, looking away for a moment before pressing on. "I mean, don't go anywhere without me again. It isn't safe," he said more quietly.

"Okay, I won't." My eyes dropped to his hand and they grew in panic as I noticed the caked up blood. "Paul," I said in a small voice, "your hand."

He briefly looked down and shook his head. "I'm fine."

"Why did you break the window of their Volvo? It wasn't locked."

"I did it just to fuck up their day. Now they have to pay to get their window fixed."

"But your hand," I repeated. "We have to take you to the hospital—"

His affected hand twitched. "I said I was fine, Swan."

"Let me see," I requested. "Please, let me see?" Paul let me grab his hand and I took a sharp breath, turning it over a few times. The blood on his hand was dry and there were no marks on his perfect skin, not even a scratch. "What the—?"

"We heal quickly. Werewolf, remember?" He spoke softly as he stole a peek around the lot to make sure no one could hear us. Two of my assailants had run off when Paul had turned to release me from the car and the blonde-haired boy was now grumbling and swearing on the floor. He didn't even look as if he knew where he was, much less care about what Paul was declaring.

"Oh, I didn't know that." I continued to rub his hand, grateful for the contact. My fingers dabbed in between his and I rubbed his blood-caked cuticles with my palm. His hands were rough, but it felt comforting for me. How could that be? His hands were like a heated loofah sponge that was made just for my body. Did I even want his hands on my body? I met his eyes briefly; his stance had softened and my stomach felt light. Paul turned his body a little toward me and his hand tensed only to gently rub my finger tips back. I smiled a little when I heard him swallow, and my eyes beheld the sight of watching the muscles in his throat contract.

Then, just as if the moment was over, his eyes narrowed at me suddenly and he yanked his hand back.

"You owe me for the one burger I didn't finish in my last order by the way. I left it back there to save your ass just now," he retorted.

My face turned red, annoyed that he was so impetuous and upset because I had actually been enjoying touching his hands. Who was this kid?

I opened the front door and stepped back to allow Paul inside first. His head and nostrils immediately went into action, twisting, turning, and sniffing for anything that didn't belong. At least, I was assuming that's what Paul was doing; he wasn't talking to me directly much.

Paul had taken to muttering obscenities from the time we had gotten back into the Chevy up until now. He was still going on and on and I had just about had it. He was turning into a bit of an unruly houseguest already.

But I needed him, apparently. The wolf pack had gotten nowhere in the last few days; no scents, no leads, no other vampires in the area yet. At least none that they knew of. The pack wasn't perfect. I knew that Jacob and his packmates needed to eat, sleep, and do homework. Vampires never slept and they had an infinite amount of time to do and learn everything that some people never had the chance to achieve in their lifetime.

So Jacob, Paul, and company had their flaws, but they were all I had now that Charlie and Edward were gone. And I felt grateful.

Paul dropped his bag close to the living room's entryway, slammed his huge body onto the couch, and sucked his teeth loudly. His foot hit the coffee table in front of him, almost turning it on its side.

"Paul, jeez. Be careful." I didn't want him to hurt himself.

"This shit is not going to work, Swan. This couch sucks," he swore again, rubbing his hand along the furniture's fabric.

I was in agreement with Paul; that couch wasn't the most comfortable thing to sleep on and to be 6'5 and have to stay in a place that you didn't want to be in, in the first place, had to be downright torture for Paul. However, that didn't excuse his rudeness either. I desperately tried to amend. "I could make up Charlie's bed for you, if you would like."

"I'd rather sleep downstairs. Think you can manage to not get into trouble while I get some shut eye?"

I squeezed the blanket I was holding in anger. "I'll try." My anger flared back up again. His eyes looked amused at my show of annoyance and I threw the covers at him. Paul's face turned into a tantalizing smirk.

"Werewolf, sweetheart," he said again. "I don't get cold. May I prove it to you?"

"No," I snapped. "Just take the blanket."

His body edged closer toward me, and I fought taking a small step back to keep in his warmth. "What for?"

"It's a peace offering," I finally managed to say. "You know, for saving me today."

Paul fell back. "If you had just kept your ass in our booth, it wouldn't have gone down like that."

I swallowed. "Nevertheless, thank you, Paul."

He looked away and glanced at the couch again. "You better not snore either."

"I should be telling you that, Paul," I nearly yelled. "How do I know you don't snore?"

"Why don't you sleep with me and find out?" he answered back.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"You would like it too. I've never had a complaint and I'm one hundred percent discreet."

"I know all about those girls."

"Yeah? Give me some names."

I paused before blurting out the first name that came to mind. "Stacey," I exclaimed proudly.

Paul wrinkled his nose. "No fair. Every dude has slept with at least one Stacey."

I groaned and threw the other blanket at him, turning away and proceeding up the stairs to my own bed. "Disgusting dog."

"Sweet dreams, babe," he called over his shoulder.

"And stop calling me BABE!" I screamed back down at him as soon as I hit the second landing. I buried my face into my pillow once my body hit the bed, pondering what it would be like to burrow my head into Paul's chest instead.