Tada! Here's an update! ;D

Jared jogged up to the house, tongue hanging out, feeling like he was the freakin' king of the world. He so loved the speed and the strength and the freedom of what he was. It was amazing and exciting for someone who'd never been more than an hour from the Rez in his life. And he was proud of the purpose he now had; he defended the whole tribe from evil bloodsucking monsters! How cool was that?

The only downfall was that Sam was depressing as rain on a picnic day.

It was understandable, of course. The guy hadn't had the easiest time of the transition from Average Joe to Werewolf Watchdog. Plus the whole Emily thing.... Jared shuddered, his fur rustling and shifting back into place with the movement. Boy, he hoped he never imprinted. Seemed like a whole bunch of bad luck.

Stopping behind Sam's house, Jared concentrated on calming himself enough to make the chance back to human. It was a strange sensation. Where phasing wolf was an explosion outwards, the change to human was a slow pull inwards. It tingled - almost itched - and he could feel himself shrink, he swore he could. Then there was that hanging moment where a sensation similar to the one when you're taking the stairs and miss a step would happen and the next thing he'd know, he was human again. And naked.

That was a bit of a pain, too.

Running a hand over his shortened hair, Jared walked up to the back door. It opened into Sam's laundry room, which was always stocked with a change of shorts. They were everywhere. Folded in baskets, in the dryer, in the washer. Between the two of them, they went through all the pairs of shorts rather quickly, so it was a good thing there were so many. And that Sam didn't mind doing laundry. Jared eyed the washer - he was pretty sure he'd be more likely to break the thing than make it function.

As he pulled on his shorts, he sniffed the air and froze in surprise. Then his stomach rumbled hungrily and he grinned, hurrying into the rest of the house.

In the kitchen, food was being cooked. He sniffed again, catching the scent of fresh bread, tomatoes, meat.... Oh, good lord, she was making lasagna!

No wonder Sam loved her so much! She could cook!

Emily hadn't noticed the other boy standing in the kitchen doorway, and Jared was too busy appreciating the fact that he didn't have to prepare food for when Sam got-

Oh shit, Jared thought, eyes going wide. Sam. His Alpha was going to kill him....

Sam had been in a particularly bad mood today. He'd not been sleeping well, he'd not been eating nearly as much as Jared, and he'd been crabby and restless for weeks. Today had been more crabby than usual. Probably because the Alpha had gone without sleep for about three days. Jared didn't know why Sam refused to sleep, just that he did. He suspected it was because the poor guy had bad dreams about what he'd done, but didn't know for sure. Sam made sure to never think about any of it when Jared was phased with him.

So Emily being in the house? Alone with Jared who was a new wolf? Totally not going to get him any brownie points with the Boss.

Emily turned around then, and yelped, jumping a good foot in the air. Jared leapt back as well, unable to keep his eyes from locking onto the girl's face.

He remembered seeing Emily at the beach a couple of times, and while he was sure he'd have recognized her even without werewolf super-senses, he was horrified by what he was seeing. The whole side of her face was red and puckered scars, thick and distorting. The looked painful, incredibly painful, and he couldn't begin to imagine how they made her feel emotionally.

He forced his eyes to meet hers, forced himself to ignore the glaringly obvious imperfections. His eyes flickered to them a few times, but he tried to instantly bring them back.

Her mouth had fallen open, and her own eyes seemed frozen wide. Her chest rose and fell with her small pants from being startled. She seemed frozen in place unsure how to respond or what to do.

"Uh... hi."

Emily jerked out of her stupor, smiling uncertainly. "Hi... Jared, right?" Her eyes looked him over. "You're... different."

He laughed, grinning and walking farther into the kitchen, relaxing slightly. "Yeah, I guess I do," he chuckled. He sniffed again appreciatively. "So... not that I don't appreciate the food you're cooking... why are you here?"

Emily turned back to the oven, pulling it open and peering inside; she grabbed an oven mitt and pulled out the large pan of lasagna, setting it on the stove carefully. She took her time pulling the fabric off of her hand, the entire time looking down and not at Jared.

He waited patiently, leaning against the counter.

She swallowed before whispering, "Uh... where's Samuel?"

Jared felt his expression fall flat. He wasn't sure why she wanted to talk to the boss - he hoped it was for good reasons, but if it wasn't.... Well... Sam was grumpy enough as it was. Emily finally turned to look at Jared, biting her lip anxiously as her eyes searched his face for any sign of... anything.

"He's out."

Emily sighed and looked down, realized she was wringing her hands, and forcefully stopped herself. She took a few deep breaths, then whispered, "I just want to talk to him, Jared. I... we both need to talk about what happened." She looked up at him helplessly, pleadingly.

Jared sighed, running a hand over his head harshly. "I'm not lying. He's out." When Emily seemed to deflate, he added somewhat reluctantly, "But he should be back soon."

Sam was so going to kick his furry ass next time they were phased.

Sam dragged himself through the back door, eyes burning, body screaming for sleep. But he didn't want to sleep; he didn't want to remember or dream or even think. Sleep deprivation made those things harder to accomplish. He pulled on a pair of shorts, blinking sharply several times, attempting to clear the blurriness from his vision.

He'd have to sleep soon though, wouldn't he? He didn't want to, but his body was tiring from all the patrols and stress it was going through.

He rubbed his palms over his face, feeling... old.

The smell of lasagna reached him and his stomach clenched painfully, growling loudly. Saliva gathered in his mouth, he was that hungry. Hopefully Jared hadn't-

Sam froze as another smell, fainter under that of the food, hit his system, acting a lot like a jolt of electricity to a dying car battery.

Emily.

As he began paying more attention, he could pick up the faint sounds of two people eating. One wolfing their food down - Jared obviously - and the other eating more slowly.

Emily.

He should turn around and leave the house. Right now.

Instead, without his telling or allowing them to, his feet carried him forward and into the living room.

Jared heard him coming, because he froze in the middle of eating. By the time Sam reached the doorway of the living room, Jared was out the front door with an excuse about something inane and unimportant.

When he saw Emily sitting on the couch, a plate of half-eaten food in her lap, Sam fell to his knees, hard.

Her head jerked up and towards him, and he felt pain blast his chest, a sharp torpedo of fire. He'd hurt her. He'd torn her beautiful skin so badly. It'd never be the same. Never be.... Ever....

Emily pushed herself off of the couch, a small unconscious wince flashing over her face, and moved as quickly as she could to lower herself with cautious care right in front of him.

"Sam? Sam. What's wrong?" Her hand landed on his shoulder, gentle and soft and soothingly cool in comparison to his own raging temperature. He flinched back, scrambling into the wall to get away from her. His wolf whined, torn between craving her touch and the terror of scaring her. Breathing heavily, eyes wide, Sam stayed on the floor pressed against the wall.

Emily stayed on her knees where she'd sat on the floor, watching Sam. She couldn't understand why he looked so frightened of her, why he was responding so violently. She pressed her lips together and thought about what to do. She could stand up and leave or....

"I'm sorry for just coming into your house without permission," she started. "But I really wanted to talk to you."

His eyes looked down, his body shaking lightly. She swallowed back her fear; she remembered the last time he'd been shaking....

As she stared at him, fighting her fear, she saw his nostrils flare and him wince, pressing farther into the wall. His shaking hands lifted to his head and he cradled it, a soft sound coming from him. Listening closely, she realized it was a... whimper.

"Sam, look at me." When he didn't, she swallowed and steeled her resolve. "Sam," she said sharply. "Look. At. Me."

As if it happened against his will, his eyes moved to meet hers, sadness darkening the already dark pupils to pitch black. His hands were fisted at his temples, his lips tightly compressed, a slight sheen of sweat on his brow. His breath sawed in and out in a slight wheeze.

"What's wrong?" she murmured quietly. "Tell me."

He shook his head minutely, eyes edging away to the floor once again.

Taking a deep breath, Emily moved quickly so she was right in front of him and grabbed his chin in her fingers, pulling his face around so he stared at her. His eyes shot wide and he froze, going completely still. She couldn't even see the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. "Talk. To. Me." she growled.

His lips twitched slightly, but then his face became incredibly serious. "I hurt you," he said softly. "I almost killed you."

Emily swallowed, sitting back on her heels slightly. Letting out a deep breath slowly, she closed her eyes while she gathered her thoughts. "Yes. You did."

She felt him wince in her hold, but she kept her grip firm.

"But it wasn't on purpose, Sam. I know you didn't do it on purpose...." When his eyes drifted away, she gave a firm tug on his chin. "Right?"

His eyes shot wide and pleading, almost childlike in the earnest honesty shinning in them. He shook his head quickly, frantically. "I didn't mean to, I swear. I... I lost control and... and.... Emily I'm so sorry!"

She smiled sadly. "I know. That's what I came here to tell you. That... I don't..." She struggled to find the right word, finally settling on, "blame you for what happened."

He stood up abruptly, smoothly, and began pacing. "How can you not blame me, Emily? I tore your face.... It is my fault. I wish I could go back and fucking not...." He growled in frustration, the sound much more impressive than her little pathetic growling had been minutes ago, and spun on his heel to face her. "I wish you'd never met me."

She blinked several times. Just how did she want to take that...?

"I wish I'd never laid eyes on you. Then I wouldn't have had to talk to you all the time," he said, beginning to pace once again anxiously. It sounded almost as if he were talking to himself out loud, and it sounded like a very-well known speech. "If I hadn't gotten close to you, if I hadn't seen you, it wouldn't have mattered that you were leaving. It wouldn't have mattered what you thought or said. None of it would have mattered as long as I'd never seen you and you'd never met me. I wouldn't have lost control - I shouldn't have lost control," he muttered angrily, shaking his head. "I should have been more fucking careful. I should have just fucking let you go and screw the damn imprinting shit and-"

"What are you ranting about?" Emily asked in disbelieving confusion. It had been hard to follow the fast stream of accusations he hurled at himself, but she gathered he blamed himself for what had happened.

"Sam, if I hadn't been so... antagonizing and upset you, you wouldn't have... turned into a wolf, right?"

He shook his head quickly, disagreeing. "It's my fault not yours. Don't blame yourself," he insisted roughly.

She thought about arguing, realized it was probably a hopeless plan of action, and returned to her first question. "What did you mean? During your... rant."

He shot her an aggravated look, running his hands over his head several times. "I... it's my fault. If I hadn't seen you, none of this would have happened. If you hadn't met me, you'd be attending college and living a perfectly normal life like you deserve. A simple, normal life, without werewolves and... and...." He shook his head. "This whole imprint thing is-" he started muttering under his breath.

"What imprint thing?" Emily asked. He kept mentioning it, and she thought maybe it had come up during their argument all those many weeks ago... but she couldn't remember. It just sounded familiar.

He froze, paling slightly. "Nothing," he said quickly, hoarsely. "It's nothing you have to worry about. Just forget it."

Emily stood up stiffly and planted her hands on her hips in fierce determination. "Sam."

He stared at her for a long moment, then sighed. "It's... crazy, it's going to sound so fucking crazy...."

She raised a brow. "Um, hello? You're a werewolf, Sam. I don't think there's much that can take me by surprise anymore."

He gave her a look that said 'don't-count-on-it'; abruptly, his face smoothed over, concern in his eyes. He moved to the couch, arranging pillows in something of a nest and gestured to it, taking a large step back. "Sit down. You're exhausted."

She wanted to stand because it felt like a stronger position to be in, a defensive way to face him, but she was tired. She moved and gingerly lowered herself among the pillows that cushioned her and allowed her to relax and remain in an upright position.

He moved to the corner of the room, several feet between them. He opened his mouth to speak, then paused, frowning. "Jared," he growled warningly.

The kid poked his head in from the front door a few moments later, grinning unrepentantly.

Sam raised a brow. "Go for a run."

"Is that an-"

"Yes."

Jared just laughed and sarcastically saluted Sam, then disappeared. There was a soft explosion of displaced air a few minutes later.

"Crazy, nosy pup," Sam muttered, shaking his head.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Okay...." He looked up at her, eyes narrowed in speculation. "Are you sure you want to know?"

Emily nodded. "What's imprinting? What does it have to do with everything?"

"It has everything to do with all of this," Sam said somewhat bitterly. "Imprinting is what werewolves apparently do. It's supposed to be super rare. It's... it's...." He ran his hands over his head again, obviously nervous and distressed and frustrated.

"What is it, Sam?" she asked softly, gently.

He looked down at the floor and went oddly still again. "It's what werewolves do when they find their perfect other half. It's instantaneous and unstoppable and irreversible...." He glanced up. "And it's a million times stronger than love at first sight." His eyes were dark with a hint of something... wild in them. Something not quite human.

"...Wh-what?" she whispered, hand going to her throat. She had a feeling she knew exactly what he meant, though.

He came closer, going to his knees, his hands tentatively reaching out for her. "It's why I can't even think of going back to Leah. Not just because breaking up with her is the right thing to have happened, for both of us, but because I just can't. I can't look at anyone else and see them as anything more than people and friends and family. But when I look at you...." A slight wondering entered his voice, amazement and awe rolled into one. "You're everything. You're my everything, Emily.

"At first...." he stood up and began pacing again. "At first, I resented the draw, the pull, the need. I didn't want to be drawn to you, I didn't want to be... to feel like this. But I couldn't resist it. And the more time I spent with you, the more... it didn't bother me. The more I wanted to be around you.

"I understand if this is weird," he said quickly. "I get it, I totally understand if you don't feel any of it or want to, especially after what happened. But I just want to be there for you. Even if it can't be anything more than friends.... I just want to be there for you. I have to be there for you."

Emily blinked several times as he spoke, and finally interrupted him before he could say anything more. "Sam... are you saying you're... in... love with me?"

He blushed. Blushed. It was rather adorable.

Clearing his throat and looking down at the floor, he mumbled, "...Basically...."

She felt her lips tug up into a grin and no matter how much she tried, she couldn't force them down for more than a few seconds. "Really," she murmured.

Fast thoughts of Leah ran through her mind. This would kill Leah. But.... Emily realized she... wanted this.

"I can't say I feel the same," she told him seriously.

He winced slightly, but then quickly nodded. "I get it, it's cool. But... god, Emily, if there's anything you ever need, I'll do it. After what I did, after-"

She put her fingers over his lips, smiling slightly. "You don't owe me for what happened, Sam. Okay? Tell me that you understand that."

He hesitated, eyes asking if she was sure. When she raised her brows pointedly, he nodded. "I understand," he murmured against her fingers.

She smiled some more, then leaned closer. "And Sam?"

"Hmm?"

"I never said I didn't feel anything."

His eyes shot to hers and she smiled slightly, a little embarrassed.

"I... like you. A lot. I can't say I love you," she said seriously. "But..."

He pulled her hand up to his mouth and lightly, cautiously, kissed the palm of her hand. "I understand. I do...." He shook his head slightly. "You're not afraid? After what I did?"

Emily realized he'd probably never forgive himself for what had happened. That it would take a long while to convince him she didn't blame him for the incident.

She grinned, twisting her hand and linking her fingers in his. She wasn't sure where this would go... but... she didn't want to give it up when it might be something big.

"No Sam. I'm not afraid of you."

"Told you so!" Jared yelled from outside, laughing. Sam shot to his feet, growling in annoyance, but Emily could see the lightness in his eyes.

"I'm going to kick your ass, pup!" he yelled. Shaking his head, he looked back down at Emily, went to his knees, and grabbed her hands in his. His forehead pressed gently into her stomach, his breath warm even through his jacket and shirt. "Thank you."

Emily shook her head, rubbed his hair gently. "I didn't do anything worth a thank you, Sam," she said gently.

He snorted and lifted his head, looking at her. "Yes you did."

She opened her mouth, ready to argue with him on that point, when suddenly Jared came barreling into the house, grinning slightly. "Uh... hate to break up the love fest here... but the Elders are coming." He turned his gaze to Emily and his grin grew, taking on a sly twist. "So, Emily.... If you ever get tired of boring solemn Sam, I-"

Sam threw a pillow at him. "Shut up Jared."