A/N: Another one of those chapters that I honestly don't like; it's awful. Sorry, can't get my head 'round on it. Inspiration please come my way!

IX.

What goes up must come down.

I remembered mum telling me that Karma bites when I was five. Back then, I was busy mocking a cat that was left outside in the pouring rain. The poor little thing was meow-ing like crazy, perhaps pleading me to take it somewhere warm, but I was too occupied pondering on whether or not the bloody meowing machine had done something good to me to deserve my help. By the time I decided to disregard how the cat ever affected my happiness, the neighbours had it safe under their roof. I swore I saw it glare at me. Upset, I screamed for my mum, and there began her timeless lecture on Karma.

Sure, it was one of those basic principles I believed in, but I only ever depended on it when Sam dumped me. Then was the time when Karma really needed to bite, and bite hard. Now of course, stuck in a cramped, wet, pit, with an injured man eating up all the limited space and the rain thundering down like there was no tomorrow, Karma didn't seem to be a particularly good friend. Shouldn't pranks on cousins supposed to be like, exempted?

We were faced with two choices: either both of us stood up and endure a back pain in the freezing rain, or huddle together in each other's arms like drooling lovers. Our circumstance was that unpleasant. In addition, the stupid pit enclosed us like a well. Thankfully, I wasn't claustrophobic, because had it been Seth in my place, my brother would whimper, faint, and then die.

Embry spoke first. Taking his cast off and slinging it overhead, he motioned to hoist me up on his shoulder to hopefully climb out.

"Are you kidding me?" I gasped. "That is broken!"

"This will get us out," he reasoned.

"This will break your shoulder, smartass."

He tapped his shoulders to prove it well. I saw him wince and bite his lips; needless to say, I wasn't convinced. For someone Paul accused of theatrics, Embry sure didn't have the talent. "It's fine, see?" he tried to bail out. Embry even pretended to smile smugly, which didn't look right. "All good. I heal fast. We don't have time to care about broken shoulders."

"Fuck it, Embry. I care."

For one second, his lips seemed to stretch into a smile, but his face returned the display of seriousness. "I have to get you out," he said. Embry looked up and down, mentally calculating the distance to the opening, my height, and the overall possibility of me leaping from his shoulders, which will not be happening in any case. "You can't be trapped here. It's horrible. So please. Here, you can use my good shoulder."

I eyed his left shoulder, the one in a better state, and declined. I wasn't risking anything, considering the fact that I had wanted to curl into a ball when he was first hurt. "No."

"Come on, please? At least try. This pit is flooded. Not to mention that it looks like it's going to rain for quite some time, and it must be freezing. I need to get you out."

"Pfft."

He started stomping. "Will you look at yourself, Leah?"

"I am not injured."

"You're good as," he grunted impatiently. "Look. You're wearing that and you're drenched from head to toe. It's not right," he shook his head. Please?"

"If there's anyone who needs rescuing here, pouty-face, it's you. I can stand the rain."

"Don't, Leah," he paused, his feet tapping the water that pooled at our ankles. "It kills me."

My hands landed on my hips. "Are psychotic or what?"

Embry shook his head, wiped his face dry, and stretched his hand to gently dry my face too. Other than the fact that the action, done with wet hands, was extraordinarily futile, I was stunned by the sheer comfort the gesture caused. The only people able to do that without getting a swollen eye from me were my family and Sam. My eyes curiously followed Embry's reaction. He was content; almost happy. I could even delude myself into believing it was him, not Sam, who had countlessly done the very same thing to me.

He lowered his hand and resumed the argument. "Come on, Leah. Let's get you out." He left no room for further debate, but I couldn't care less.

"Who are you, my father?"

He flashed a dimpled smile. "Harry would be so heartbroken."

"You were never on first name terms with my father," I suspiciously noticed.

His sneer grew wider, and my suspicions returned. "Neither were you with my mother."

I pretended to have no clue about whatever he was mumbling about, although my mind remembered how sweet and jocund Sarah Call was. They were so much alike.

With my every digression, Embry continually attempted to force me to jump out of the pit in his expense. I was already bitten by the stupid Karma for digging this pit, and there was no way I would offer my ass to be chewed on furthering his injuries. I told him that, but he simply laughed it off.

"Oh come on, it was probably my Karma. I was the one who covered the pits with leaves."

"You camouflaged it?"

"We can't leave it hanging open, can we? And you went missing for a couple of days, so..."

I shivered lightly as the rain poured down without mercy. "So you decided to take it in your own hands, am I right?"

"I had nothing to do," he added ruefully.

"Embry Call was bored, huh?"

He pursed his lips, and then gave me the same shy smile he gave me at the hospital. "Much more than that."

"Oh, really. Because the last time I checked, you were the one who wanted to pull yourself away, " I returned. The grudge seemed to pathetically dominate my voice.

Amidst the loud blaring music from the distant party, I heard Embry sigh faintly. "If it makes you happy."

I kept silent, feeling the awkwardness that reverberated within and between the pit wall, much like the rain water slowly trickling down. Only the rain drops made sounds, and the night seemed to be as still as I was, frozen in emotions. Embry played with his feet, his usual gesture when I suspected he was nervous.

"Thank you for helping me," I whispered, half hoping he wouldn't catch it.

Of course he did.

"My pleasure," he replied coyly. "I'm sorry I showed myself. I knew you--"

"--wished you were gone from my sight?" I finished for him. He lowered his head down and nodded, with his feet almost quivering beneath his legs. I sighed and breathed the word. "No."

He didn't get it.

He tried to get the word out, stuttering ruefully in the process. To save him the embarrassment, I placed my finger on his lips and slowly mouthed the words. "It doesn't make me happy, you staying away from me. Just don't be annoying the entire time and we're good."

I wished I didn't actually phrase it that way, let alone so intimately informed him of his mistaken perception. Embry's face suddenly lit up, his eyes sparkling like timeless diamonds, with lips curved into a euphoric smile, looking irrevocably enraptured. When my finger finally distanced itself from his lips, he seemed to almost kiss it. It felt nice.I could feel my own lips almost curving the same path, feeling the same entranced rhapsody, but I held it back. "I said not to be annoying, Embry. You're being awfully annoying right this instant."

His smile was subdued, but the exhiliration was still apparent in his eyes. "Sorry."

"What is it with sorry that you like so much?" I giggled, which continued to become a violent shiver. The night was deepening now, and the cold heightening with it. Embry noticed the minuscule change in my reaction. He stood up and hovered protectively over me. "You're cold."

I realised I have been giggling much more than necessary tonight. "Thank you for the kind words," I giggled again.

He frowned. "I didn't mean your personality, but the fact that you're shivering and looking as pale as a freaking vam--ghost. I have to get you out. You'll fall sick, Leah."

"Don't tell me you believe in vampires!" I bared inexistent fangs in amusement.

"You don't?"

"Duh?"

He shook his head and spoke gravely. "That's besides the point. I have to get you out."

I guessed Embry wasn't so easily swayed. I chose to remind him of his words, quoting them. I didn't know if he had planned to abide by it at all, but part of me never doubted his sincerity. "Anything you want, as long it makes you happy?"

"It excludes the desire to self-inflict illness, of course."

"You weren't very specific," I argued.

"Leah..."

"Don't Leah Leah me," I warned. "Don't you forget I am older. We will get out. One way or another, we will get out of this stupid hole--but not your way, Embry." I stopped, listening to the thunderous boom of William's party and frowned. "They might look for us after the party--when they notice our disappearance."

"How long will it exactly take? You're soaked."

"I reckon six."

"AM?" he gasped.

"Hours," I corrected. "Which means seven AM if we're lucky."

"Oh my God! You will have pneumonia! Take my coat!" Embry shrieked.

"I'm warm," I reassured him. "I'd rather have an injured person kept lightly dry than have him die from hypothermia beside me inside a hole in the middle of the fucking forest."

I permitted him act like an over-protective mother bear while I still endured it, laughing where appropriate and enjoying the feeling of being attended to. Funny enough, Embry didn't appear bothered by the cold that had slowly crept to my bones. If he felt any form of boredom in the hours that followed, he never showed any hint of it. His continuous bouts of cheerfulness contradicted any notion of him not being content--other than the fact that he was concerned about me, of course. He merely settled to my side, giving me tender prods to check that I didn't feel too bad.

I tried to control my shivers, but it couldn't be helped. The night had dropped the thermostrat, and the rain made the cold a lot worse. Embry jerked to his feet. "Damn it, take my coat!"

"Get a--away," I stuttered back.

It was no use. Embry gave a low growl and completely stripped himself of his outer clothing. He swung it on his right shoulders, to which he flinched, and ripped his drier shirt violently. The buttons shattered into the pool of water, but he ignored it and wrapped it around me. The rain pelted down on his shoulders, some of the raindrops ricocheting to somewhere else, while most pooled and trickled down slowly along his sculptured chest, tracing the ripples that lined his abdomen and disappearing completely into the waistband of his trousers. His hands ran the length of my arm to warm me up, while his own torso was left for my uncontrollable eyes to enjoy. Enjoy?

Surprisingly, his attempt at warming me up worked well. Embry had always felt warm; plus, the muscles that lined his bodies was a strong factor.

"You know this is useless, right?" I pointed out.

"I can hug you," he offered.

I gave him a hard punch. "Don't you freaking dare."

He stepped away, completely foregoing any physical contact between our bodies. Caught unwarned, I quivered at the sudden rush of cold air. He gave me a knowing look, looking as if his lungs had refused air unless I complied. "I told you so."

So Embry settled me neatly into his lap, augustly taking on board all my warnings and restrictions. I could feel his body pressing on mine--warm, delicate and so fucking sexy. "Are you comfortable?" he wanted to ensure.

Hell, yes. "The water is killing me. Other than that, I'm okay."

"Are you sure?"

"Why do you always ask twice? Don't you trust me?"

"With my life," I heard him whisper, obviously not meant for me to hear.

The most unfortunate matter was that his warm, raspy breath reached my ears, tickling it with its gentle warmth. A strong surge of fiery electricity pulsed within me, causing an abrupt contrast with my cold exterior. I shivered again. Embry tightened his embrace, and the same feeling surged again. I cleared my throat. Holy mother. If I was having some sort of yearning for this guy...

"Do you want to sleep?" he asked, hands holding the side of my head, as if willing it to lay on his shoulders. As I inclined, I regained senses and slapped his hands away. "Not until you sing me a lullaby."

He actually begun humming.

"Embry!"

He looked confused. "I thought you wanted to sleep?"

"With you in full consciousness?" I snorted.

"I will never touch you," he solemnly swore. His held me closer, pulling his sodden shirt tighter around my sodden body. As I said, useless. Still, considering our misfortune, it felt surprisingly good.

I prayed with all my might that this guy would not notice how I stole glances at his face when darkness waned. Embry looked tired. He had deep bags under his eyes and his face looked sullen. What on earth has this guy been doing? "You rest, Embry."

"With you in full consciousness?" he chuckled.

I poked his shoulders. "Broken bones right here."

He settled for a compromise. "I'll sleep if you will. If you don't, I won't."

That was clever for someone so suicidal. Well, whatever. If Embry died, it was his fault. Besides, the Chief of Police was my dad's best friend. I'm sure I could easily bail myself out with a fishing rod, a few worms, and a free Harry Clearwater. Charlie Swan was easy to please. "Your choice, stupid."

"Let's pull an all nighter then," he decreed. "What do you want to do?"

"See you dance," I laughed, which led me closer to Embry's surprisingly toned chest. Surprising because, out of the three of them--Jacob, Quil and Embry--only Quil was reputed to have an aspiration to be crowned as Mr. Universe. Now, Embry, as far as I was concerned, was the only one with a rippled abdomen and hickey-worthy chest. Oh my God, I need a distraction.

Embry gave an embarrassed squeak. Translation: he didn't want to dance.

"Fine," I revoked. "Some other thing that won't puncture your ego." Anything away from the consuming thoughts of your sexy half-naked self. Damn it.

"Talk?"

"If it makes you feel better."

"Then can I ask you something?"

"You will ask me anyhow. Why don't you just blurt it out?"

"You won't like it," he admitted.

I tried to face him, but if I but turn my head, I would lessen our faces' distance to about an inch. Cautious, my self-control may be impended if I hooked myself to the bait. I faced the boring, damp soil instead. "Then why ask it in the first place?"

"Do you still love Sam?"

Shit.

If there was a list of forbidden topics to talk to in my life, Sam Uley, being with Sam, Sam and Emily, or the past three years of my life in a relationship with the person who I thought was the one but was now my cousin's fiancé, would top that list. Embry should know that; everyone in La Push already did. I was the most controversial of all gossips in the reservation when the news broke out.

Embry kept silent beside me, allowing me to reminisce, miss and curse Sam, his promises and everything we shared which made my every waking moment worthwhile. It was nightmarish now, and I wasn't welcoming with open arms anything that reminded me of it. The pause let the rain trace the length of my face freely, some of which pooled in my eyes and dragged the tears out. Embry's hand rested on my back as I started to clench my fist to control the onslaught of agony.

"You never get over first love," I sighed.

Embry looked sad. I momentarily wondered if he too had his first love, who it had been, and how it turned out. I decided, against my inquisitiveness, not to ask. Soon after that, memories of Sam filled my mind once more.

"I thought he was the one," I suddenly blurted out. "Everything was so settled. Sam filled my day, made me smile, occassionally made me cry, did all sorts of romantic things a boyfriend should do and surprised me with little hugs and kisses," I continued. "Sometimes even expensive candlelight dinners and out of town trips which I suspect he had to rob someone for." Those were all the things I direly missed, and all the memories that kept haunting me. "I wish--"

"--he would come back?"

I knew Sam would never come back. "I don't know."

Still, a stubborn part of me was waiting. Waiting for Sam to come crawling back, realising his mistake, whence I would open my arms to him and tell him everything was alright, and that he was forgiven and was still very dearly loved. Part of me still firmly believed that he would come back to me someday. "Maybe."

"Is there any way I could make you feel better?"

Maybe. Maybe there was still a Leah that was too attached to Sam, yes. But this--this care, tenderness and devotion that had slowly and unforseeably seeped through her heart--this was exactly what was overcoming her. Someone genuine in his care, someone persistently breaking down her walls to let himself in and take the role of her protector, someone who makes her feel all sorts of things--laughter, annoyance, sadness, joy--in all sorts of ways. Embry Call was exactly the person weakening her maybe, all the while making her realise that in reality, it was a just serious case of I don't know.

I didn't even know if I wanted my Sam back, or if I could take it, or if I simply no longer welcomed the idea. My Sam may even no longer exist. It now seemed like a distant past. A past too distant it was almost unrecognisable, let alone bearable. "Maybe."

"Name it."

My attention was suddenly caught by a blatant fact that had been staring at me all this while. "You're a lot like your mother, you know?" my mouth said, before I could will it not to. Embry froze, looking stupefied, until I had to stick a finger under his rib to ensure he didn't suffer a stroke. "Embry?"

"Sorry," he shook his head. "I was taken aback. I'm a lot like mum?"

"Yes. She's very reserved too, but inquisitive. Coy, but thoughtful," I told him. Sarah was very cordial, a generous host and cooly supportive of my well, plans. "You have your mum's smile and her face, but not quite the eyes. You have her dimple too, but your nose and built must be after your father's."

His smile drastically faded, followed by the vanishment of the dimple I have taken a keen liking on. Subsequently, along with it, I felt his enthusiasm extinguish, as though I had exhumed something too horrid for him to recall. Perhaps sensing my quiet probing, he sighed. "I never had a father, Leah."

I was horrified. "Oh my God. Why are you telling me this??"

How my hands ended up on top of Embry's remain undiscussed as he dwelled on his melancholy origins. "I'm a love child. Sometimes I wonder why my father left me. Did he just stop and realise he had fathered the most insignificant asshole of the twenty-first cenury? Am I that unloved?"

I begged to differ--with a strong, angry conviction. "For flipping God's sake, you're not unloved, Embry. If your stupid father was irresponsible, you do not take the blame."

He sniffed. "It's more than that. I am a bastard, Leah. Literally. Other than the fact that my life was only an accident, my father, whoever he is, was married. I was abandoned, unloved, left without someone to call dad to spare another family the same fate. I had to lose a father for another boy to have his. It haunts me."

It did not escape my attention how twice now he had used 'unloved'. I knew for a fact it wasn't true. I thought he might want to hear my wisdom. "You may be a moron, yes, but you are not unloved, you hear me? Your life may have begun as an illegitimate child, but it does not define it. It never will."

He leaned his head on the soft soil and closed his eyes. On the outside, Embry looked reflective. But I saw past the mask. I knew he was undergoing a bitter recount of suppressed emotions. "I learnt the hard way. It's one thing uncovering your forgotten roots, but another thing altogether realising that somewhere around the corner, one of the people closest to you might actually be your long lost half-brother."

It just keeps getting worse and worse for this guy, right? "Do you know which devoted family man screwed around?"

I was surprised he hadn't strangle me for my words. It sounded pretty offensive, which I only realised after I heard myself say it. Embry sighed instead.

"No. Selfishly, Leah, I do want to feel being able to learn my first drive with the man who have brainwashed me to revere him as the world's best driver, to greet someone on Father's Day, and to sit and watch baseball with a dad. If I am to find out who he is now, I know I might cry and grovel for a father. Then, Leah, he can either leave me, like he once did, to which my heart will shatter; or leave behind his other son, which I can never wish of anyone. Whichever my father chooses, I will end up being an asshole."

"There are ways to gain these memories. You can choose to find out."

He shook his head sadly, sighing as he did. "I don't have the courage to. I can't ask my mother--I can't ruin a family, Leah. I know the feeling of being lied to, of treachery, and the utter and complete breakdown of trust it causes. I cannot inflict this pain to anyone else. I refuse to be a burden."

It was this speech that made me realise how noble Embry was, more than I have already discovered. He was pure. Chivalry wasn't dead afterall; not in this sense. There were many forms of chivalry and bravery in this world; Embry's sacrifice for someone who, arguably, had robbed him of a loving family, should entail more than his share of these values. I could scarcely believe Embry was just sixteen. He was selfless.

I clicked my fingers to snap him out of his misery and pulled his head down to force him to peer into my eyes, hoping in that way I could convey my sincerity fully. I ignored the incessant rampage that my heart was busy doing in my chest. Jesus, is my stupid heart on weed?

My voice was maintained in a serene flow of criss-crossing words. "I want you to listen very carefully, Embry. You're not an insignificant asshole, you're not unloved, and you're most definitely not a burden. You are a blessing."

"I am a bastard."

"Does it matter? You have friends who stand by you, ready to lose an eye if you need it. You have many people around you who cares; open your eyes and see. You have your mother, who I know loves you the world over. Hell, even if she doesn't, does it matter? You are Embry. Who your parents are, how you were conceived or God knows what sin they have accumulated in their life does not make you any less than who you are."

"Once a bastard, always a bastard," Embry grumbled.

"Come on, you have Mr. Clarke." And you have me. I--whatever, you have me.

The inquisitive part of me wanted to know which La Push asshole screwed around only to leave behind a son who he would never be able to watch grow out of boyhood into a pure, selfless man because he was such a fucking coward. I might actually interrogate each of the fathers of Embry's close friends and threaten to tie them in a wheelchair and push them out into the middle of the road on it unless they admit fathering Embry. I held my mouth shut before it would be stuffed with Embry's fists.

His lips etched into a smile, but it faded quickly, like he failed to appreciate the humour. "I know Harry is a wonderful father," he commented. No wonder dad is so pro-Embry.

"Except when he takes me fishing. It's sooo boring."

Embry sighed, his breath warming the stale air.

"It doesn't matter to me," I consoled him. "Whoever you are, wherever you come from, it doesn't matter to me."

This time, his smile showed that cute dimple. "Thank you. You have no idea how much that means to me."

"Yaddah, yaddah, Embry. We're both drenched, helpless and stuck in a fucking flooded pit and what do we do? We make ourselves more miserable. How about we try something else for a change? Some other damn thing that will not drag tears out or makes us resent our fate?"

"Good idea," he agreed, shifting me ever so carefully.

I realised something perculiar. "Aren't you cold?" I mean, it was in the middle of the night, with the rain thundering down mercilessly, not to mention that his legs were submerged in ankle-deep flood water. He was shirtless, craddling an equally soaked, shivering me in his arms, but not once did I feel him shiver. He even felt warm.

"Nah, I'm good. Are you?"

"Getting better," I mused. "They better look for us soon, because if I find out William forgot about me, I'm going to bury him."

"I'll be the look-out," he chuckled.

It was absurd how I could feel so comfortable being wet and stuck in a pit with a guy. After the demise of the Uley-Clearwater relationship, I could barely stand being within two feet of any human male species. As far as La Push was concerned, Leah Clearwater repelled the boys, not least because Harry Clearwater was rumoured to be guarding their front door with a loaded harpoon gun.

Hence explained why I was gobsmacked when dad was significantly friendly with Embry, not to mention that the harpoon gun was safely tucked away in the storage cupboard while they both enjoyed tea. At least Seth was trying, and miserably failing, to be hostile.

Sure, Embry could be an asshole sometimes, when he was being more protective than my father and Seth combined, or when he barges into my daily life like I was a freaking door; but Embry was cordial, gentle, amusing, patient, and takes things slowly, waiting for them to get use to him. The pathetic complement list could go on endlessly.

I appreciated his slow pace, the tenderness he showered me with, like a knight slowly striding into your heart, letting its every part feel his presence, until it could not longer remember a past without the striding knight.

As I pondered in silence, with everything leaning on to Embry's stride, the long-awaited sleep finally started to beckon me to dreamland. "I think I want to sleep now," I yawned. He nodded.

The slumber was surprisingly uneventful, though the rain never appeared to have left me in my dreams. I awoke to the frantic call of Dad and Seth close-by. Embry, who looked like he had never slept, greeted me with a cheery good morning. He looked too happy for someone who hadn't had their beauty sleep.

"I think it's okay to answer them," he murmured. "Are you fully awake now?"

"You didn't call back? They are calling us!"

"Calling you," he cleared. "I didn't want to wake you up," was his excuse.

I was supposed to open my mouth and reprimand him, but at that moment the rare sun blazing overhead was blocked by an imposing frame and everything darkened. In one second, no less than a heartbeat perhaps, I heard a sharp intake of panted breath. It took me some time to realise who had so suddenly peered into our little pit--wholly aided by the fact that I heard my brother's voice shoot an octave higher and break.

"Leah! Oh my God--EMBRY?"

I had been so sure it was Seth. It sounded like Seth. Hell, I even caught a glimpse of Seth's enraged face--that familiar seething glare, pursed lips and flaring nose--trying to bury holes through Embry. It was Seth. Even if it wasn't, I was at least sure it was human. Except when I looked up again, it was no longer my baby brother looking livid at our huddling frames--there was someone else. No, there was something else. To my horror, Seth vanished. In his place, in the exact same place where I had been so sure it was my brother, now crouched an angry, gigantic, sand-coloured wolf baring all of its sharp teeth at Embry.

It wasn't Seth. I was so sure.

A/N: Originally, I planned a kiss ending this chapter, but it never seemed to fit. Maybe next time? I am in dire need of inspiration for this story, so reviews will help. Gracias.

Edit: Thank you tdfireproof for reminding me, there was a quote from the movie WANTED I used (...he had fathered the most insignificant asshole of the twenty-first cenury?). I love this quote :D