A/N: I'm humbled and amazed by the response to this story. I always wanted more of Leah in BD and I'm thrilled that so many fandom readers feel the same way. Thanks to everyone who has read SSW, decided to follow it on Twitter (see my profile) and reviewed. Every story is a conversation between the writer and the reader, and hopefully you feel this is a good one.

Once again, the two most wonderful betas in the world, Evelyn and MunkeeRajah, helped me smooth out the rough spots in this chapter.

Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. I'm just playing in her pool for a while.

Chapter 9 - Reality

Leah POV

I'd never liked Charlie Swan.

Yeah, I know it wasn't a nice way to feel about a guy who'd been my father's best friend for as long as I could remember. When Dad died, Charlie was there for my family during those dark days. And like it or not, I had to admit he'd brought the sparkle back to my mother's eyes. Good at his job, liked by the community he served, a devoted father, and friend to many on the rez, Charlie was just an all-around hell of a great guy.

For all those reasons, he rubbed me the wrong way. No one should be that great all the time. Now, I had another reason to dislike Charlie.

He had fucked up everything.

That poisonous thought chanted through my brain over and over as I crouched above Nahuel, my teeth still on his throat, watching Charlie watch us. The part of me that was afraid for Nahuel was wrestling with the part that was afraid of him, of what he might do to Charlie if I let go. Stalemate.

God-damned Charlie Swan.

For six years, all the vampires and werewolves in Charlie's life had done a cautious, frantic little dance around him. Can't let him know. Have to protect him from the truth. Charlie couldn't handle knowing what we all really are. He'll be safer if he doesn't know. And Charlie had been a willing partner in the dance, happily keeping his head buried firmly up his ass. Ignoring the blatant evidence that the people closest to him weren't exactly people at all.

"Trained investigator," my ass. He didn't ask questions. Not after Jake phased in front of him six years ago, giving him just a taste of the truth in hopes of winning Charlie's silence. Not after meeting his granddaughter, knowing it was impossible for Bella, who had clearly not been pregnant when she married Edward, to have given birth just a month later. Not even after watching that child grow up at a pace that was clearly unnatural. He could teach the Army a thing or two about "don't ask, don't tell."

Now, the big, old, splintery paddle of reality had just soundly smacked Charlie on his naked, self-deluding ass. Everything was totally screwed up now, thanks to Charlie. The only way things could have been worse was if I hadn't been able to stop Nahuel.

If I'd been in human form I would have gagged on my anger. The stench of Nahuel's fear was making my limbs shake and my head swim. I could feel his self-loathing radiating through our imprinting bond, leaving me a heartbeat away from total meltdown myself. Would this episode throw him into a tailspin? Would he lose whatever ground he'd gained in the past few weeks?

I had no idea what the hell I was going to do next. So I sat there on top of my imprint, my jaws still on his throat, and hated Charlie Swan almost as much as I'd once detested Sam.

When Seth walked into the kitchen, I'd never been happier to see the big blockhead in my life.

"Hey, Charlie! Didn't know you were stopping by," he said, stepping into the room with a welcoming grin on his face. He froze and took in the scene, shock warping his happy smile into a grimace. It must have been pretty mind-blowing: Nahuel prone on the floor with my jaws locked on his throat. Charlie, battered and bleeding, standing stupefied in the laundry room door. The debris of our kitchen table and chairs scattered on the floor around us.

Seth's jaw went slack and he gaped at us for several seconds. From behind his broad back, Mom's shocked gasp broke Seth's trance.

"Oh my God!" she cried, her eyes racing from me to Charlie. I never knew watching someone else's world crumble could be so painful, but my heart cracked when I saw the expression on my mother's face. I could see in her beautiful eyes the realization that nothing would ever be the same, or sane, again. She'd just stepped into her worst nightmare. At the sound of her voice, Charlie's eyes flashed to hers, but he said nothing. He didn't look like he would be capable of speech for a while yet.

Who would have thought Seth would be the one to take charge? His voice was quiet, calm and commanding.

"Mom, why don't you take Charlie into the bathroom and help him clean up?" he said, approaching Nahuel and me cautiously.

Maybe it was the tone of his voice, or just sheer amazement at Seth taking control, but my mother complied immediately. She went to Charlie silently, looped his arm over her shoulders and gently guided him down the hallway. Charlie was still so out of it he didn't utter a word of protest.

When the sound of the bathroom door shutting echoed softly down the hall, Seth pulled out his cell phone and speed-dialed. "Hey, man. We got a situation. Can you get here on all fours? Leah can explain while you're running. Thanks." He ended the call and looked at me. "Jake's on his way. He's going to phase and run, so you can fill him in on the way."

Seth took another careful step toward us, as if he were unsure which one of us would freak out first. "Leah, you can let go of Nahuel now." His voice was amazingly gentle and reassuring. Part of me was astonished that this was my kid brother talking. Another part of me was thinking "Fuck no, I'm not letting go."

A low growl rumbled from my throat. Seth didn't need to be in wolf form to know what that meant.

"Lee-lee, it's okay," he said calmly. "You can let Nahuel up. I'm going to take him outside to wait until Jake gets here. He'll probably feel better if he's out of the house right now, away from the blood."

I rolled my eyes down to look at Nahuel, which was hard to do since my teeth were still locked around his throat. He did seem calmer. Was it because Charlie's blood wasn't oozing in front of him anymore? Or that someone was finally taking charge? Or maybe, I thought with a chill, he'd just given up. Still, the image of his feral, snarling face when he'd gone for Charlie's throat burned behind my eyes. Would Seth be safe with him right now?

"It's okay," Seth repeated. He looked down at Nahuel. Then, as if my brother knew what I was thinking: "He's not going to bite me. Right, man?"

Nahuel hadn't looked away from me since the moment my teeth had closed around his neck. He didn't now, either, and his reply was clearly meant as much for me as it was for Seth.

"I will not bite you, Seth," he confirmed, his voice still hoarse from the pressure of my grip on his throat.

I slowly unclamped my jaws and moved off Nahuel's body. Seth reached down, grabbed Nahuel's hand and hoisted him to his feet. Nahuel looked weak and powerless next to my towering brother, two things that the past hour had proven he most definitely was not. Without another word, Seth steered him out the kitchen door.

Suddenly exhausted, I flopped on the floor right there in the middle of our kitchen, amid the debris of the table and chairs my father had bought my mother as an anniversary gift the year Seth was born. Holiday meals, intense family discussions, huge Sunday breakfasts, funeral planning—so much life, good and bad, had happened around that table. Now it was a symbol of the still-smoldering ruins of my life.

SSW/SSW/SSW

Sharing a pack mind makes explanations fast and simple. While I lay on the floor trying to pull myself back together, Jake phased and got the full replay of the whole horrifying scene. By the time he was done tabbing through my recent memories, he was striding through my kitchen door, pulling a T-shirt over his head.

"Why did Charlie pull his gun on Nahuel?" he asked, putting into coherent thought the confusion I'd been struggling with since I opened my eyes to see Charlie standing in the laundry room door.

Jake ducked into the laundry room, did a quick search, and came out carrying the least-dirty items he could find. He tossed them to me and turned his back so that I could have a semblance of privacy.

I phased where I sat and reached for the clothes. My heart spasmed when I saw the shirt he'd chosen. It was one of Nahuel's hand-me-downs, an expensive, silky pullover in a rich brown that matched the color of his eyes. It smelled of him, cinnamon and spice, comfort and wanting. Swallowing hard, I yanked it over my head, stood and jerked on the shorts before answering.

"I don't know," I said. "He just showed up with his gun in his hand. Nahuel wasn't doing anything that would justify Charlie's actions."

Okay, maybe that wasn't completely true, at least from Charlie's perspective. Jake already knew, thanks to our pack link, exactly what Charlie had walked in on. But I just couldn't believe seeing me topless and clinging to a guy he didn't know would inspire Charlie to wave a gun. It's not like he was my father, trying to protect my virtue.

Jake was apparently thinking along the same lines. "You think maybe he was just over-reacting to seeing you and Nahuel … together … like that?" He began picking up pieces of the table and chairs, stacking the splintered parts in the corner near the back door. After a few moments, he answered his own question. "No, I just can't see that. There's something else going on and we need to know what it is before we tell Charlie anything."

Like Seth, Jake was calm and confident. Gratitude swelled in my chest, bringing sudden, shameful moisture to my eyes. If anyone could fix this whole mess, it was Jake.

From the bathroom, I could hear the sound of running water, but no voices. Charlie and Mom weren't talking. I wasn't sure if that was a good sign or a bad one. Jake turned and walked quietly down the hall, pausing outside the bathroom door. He knocked softly and called my mother's name.

"Sue, can you and Charlie come into the living room?" Without waiting for her reply, he motioned for me to follow him. Like everything else in our house, our living room furniture was old but functional. The sleeper sofa was hard as a board, but my dad's old leather armchair was plush and comfy, if you ignored the torn spots Seth had patched with duct tape. I took a corner of the couch and left the armchair for Charlie.

Mom and Charlie entered the room. The blood smear was gone from Charlie's face and his torn uniform shirt had been replaced by one of Seth's few button-down shirts. It was way too big for Charlie, giving him a little-boy look that did nothing for his dignity.

Jake gestured to the armchair. At first, it looked like Charlie would refuse to sit. Then, he glanced at me, aftershocks of fear flitting through his eyes. He sat. Mom dropped down on the couch, but wedged herself into the corner as far from me as she could get. Her body language stung; it screamed blame and anger. The acrid aftertaste of bitterness burned the back of my tongue.

"Charlie, how are you?" Jake's tone was even and calm, as if he weren't addressing a man who'd just had his perception of reality radically, violently obliterated.

"That's a hell of a question for you to ask me," Charlie snapped. I guessed his shock and fear were finally morphing into anger. "I have a few questions of my own. Just how many other werewolves are there besides you and Leah? And who the hell is that psycho that Leah was swapping spit with?"

Mom's eyes flashed to me accusingly. My face felt like it was on fire, but I held my ground and glared at Charlie. "Who I 'swap spit' with is none of your damned business, Charlie," I growled. Part of me wanted to believe that Charlie was just being an intrusive asshole. But deep down, my inner wolf was screaming that there had to be more to it than that. That Charlie was leaving something out.

Jake crossed his arms over his chest and studied Charlie for a moment, considering his next words. "Charlie, obviously there's a lot more going on here than you were aware of," he began. "A lot of it is stuff you'd be better off not knowing. Before I can answer any of your questions—and I'm telling you right now I can't promise to answer all of them—I need to know why you pulled your gun on Sue's house guest."

Charlie chewed his mustache nervously, a habit that irritated the hell out of me. He glared at Jake for a long moment, apparently weighing whether he could get anything out of my Alpha by going into cop mode. The boy he'd been able to cow with police authority was long gone, however, grown into a man who was more than capable of standing up to Charlie's badge-bullying.

"Fine," he said, blowing out an exasperated sigh. "There was a murder in Port Angeles last night. Pretty gruesome. Victim had her throat ripped out. Body drained of blood. A witness gave a description that fit your boy."

"That's not possible," I gasped, my mind whirling. "Nahuel was here last night, with us."

Jake's heavy brows drew down over his dark eyes and he shot me a warning look that clearly said "shut up." His gaze returned to Charlie.

"So you came here looking for him? How did you know he was here?"

"I didn't," Charlie replied. "Didn't come here looking for him, either. Got an anonymous tip at the station that a stranger fitting the suspect's description was seen on the rez. I came here to warn Sue, Seth and Leah to keep their eyes open and their doors locked. When I got here, the kitchen door was wide open, but I didn't see any cars in the driveway. Made me think someone had broken in and was still here. So I drew my weapon and came in."

My mind raced. None of this made sense. The murder sounded like it could be the work of a vampire. But if that were true, how could there be a witness? What vampire would allow such a thing to be witnessed, let alone leave the witness alive? And who could have reported seeing Nahuel on the rez? We'd been careful to keep him out of sight.

Charlie's gaze turned to me. "Guess you know the rest," he said, his tone dripping with accusation. My emotional kettle had been on slow simmer since Charlie parked his rump in my dad's favorite chair. His blame-filled tone stoked the fire under that kettle, until I was one pissy word away from boiling over.

"So what, you just walk into our home waving a gun? This isn't the Wild West and you're not Wyatt Earp, Charlie," I growled, struggling to get the words out around the rage steaming up through my throat. "You threated to shoot Nahuel!"

A mottled purple hue crept up Charlie's face from the neckline of his borrowed shirt. "Yeah, well it looks like I was right to be suspicious. There's a hell of a lot more going on here than I ever imagined," he shot back.

I could feel my temper teetering, the thin thread of my self-control stretching. Charlie turned on my mother.

"I always knew you were keeping something from me." He was shouting now, the fear and shock of the past hour finally finding an outlet and a target. Mom cringed and shrank further back into the couch cushions. Normally, she was more than capable of standing up for herself. Instead, she wilted under the heat of Charlie's anger.

He pelted her with questions so quickly it was clear he wasn't really interested in answers, only in venting. "Leah is like Jake? Is that it? A … a werewolf? Is Seth one, too? Are you? Did Harry know, or did you lie to him for years, too?" Charlie pushed to his feet, fury and stress etched in every line of his lanky frame. "And what the hell are you doing, letting that psycho stay in Harry's house?"

It was the second time he'd used that word to refer to my imprint. My temper wasn't going to let me sit by and listen to him say it again. Without knowing how I got there, I was suddenly on my feet and nose to nose with Charles Swan, top cop of Forks' finest.

"Yeah, Charlie, I'm like Jake," I hissed. Charlie didn't know anything about fury. I'd cornered the market on pissed off years ago, and I was an expert at riding a wave of rage straight down into total disaster. "I'm just like Jake. So is Seth. And if you want to know what Nahuel is, why don't you go talk to your daughter and son-in-law? Because Nahuel is just like Renesmee."

"Leah!" My mother gasped, her hands flying to cover her mouth as if she could somehow snatch back the words I'd just said.

The purple color drained from Charlie's face, leaving his skin chalky white. A fine sheen of sweat erupted on his forehead. His eyes opened impossibly wide. I held my breath and counted my heartbeats, wondering how many would pass before Charlie would crash to the floor in cardiac arrest. His mouth opened and closed, as if he were trying to mimic one of the thousands of fish he'd pulled from the water over the years. His breathing became arrhythmic, intermittent, and then stopped for more seconds than I thought a human could go without oxygen.

For the briefest second, guilt flared in my gut. Just as quickly, it evaporated. There was no way I was going to let Charlie's desire to stay in the dark where he thought it was safe threaten Nahuel in any way. Time to get our head out of your ass, Charlie.

The fact that Charlie could pull himself together enough to speak at all said volumes about his character. I had to give him grudging respect for that.

"Jacob," he rasped, "is there something you want to tell me?"

When Jake didn't immediately respond, Charlie finally tore his eyes from mine and zeroed in on my Alpha. Hard to imagine he could look more appalled than he already did, but somehow he managed it. "Jake?" His voice actually cracked.

Jake was smart. He was cautious, diplomatic, patient … basically everything I could never hope to be. He knew exactly what was riding on his response to Charlie's question. For sure he was furious at me for giving up Renesmee's secret, but he wasn't going to show it and let Charlie see a fissure in our united front. And he wasn't going to take it on himself to decide what to tell Charlie, not without consulting with the leech in-laws first.

"Charlie," he said carefully, using a tone doctors usually reserved for the most emotionally fragile patients, "I think you need to talk to Bella and Edward."

Charlie didn't say another word. He marched past Jake and out the front door, leaving it open behind him. The police cruiser's engine turned over, and we heard the sound of tires tossing gravel into the air. Silent tears streaked down my mother's cheeks. The atmosphere in the room had the same heavy, oppressive feeling it gets just before a thunderstorm rolls in.

Finally, Jake broke the silence, pulling out his cell phone and hitting the speed dial for Bella. "Well, hell. That didn't go like I hoped it would."

SSW/SSW/SSW

I found Seth and Nahuel behind the woodshed. Still shirtless, Nahuel was sitting with his back pressed to the wall, as if he needed the support to stay upright. His knees were bent slightly and his forearms rested on his thighs, hands loosely clasped in his lap. He looked almost as bad as he had the first time I saw him in the Cullen house.

Seth stood beside Nahuel, one shoulder pressed to the shed wall. Neither said a word as I approached. When I reached them and stopped, Seth gave me an encouraging smile and headed back to the house. I tried not to think about the cell phone conversation Jake was having right now with Bella and Edward. I'd never been high on their list of favorite werewolves, and I'm sure my name was rotating even further down that roster right now.

I stood in front of Nahuel, unsure of what to say. How did you comfort someone who nearly killed your wanna-be stepfather? Were you even supposed to try?

He didn't look up at me, but his voice was clear and surprisingly steady when he spoke. "I am sorrier than I can say, Leah. Of course, Sue had told me about Charlie, but I did not realize who he was …." He trailed off and looked up at me. I groaned at the remorse and guilt I saw swimming in his teak-toned eyes.

"When I saw the gun, when I smelled his blood, I lost control."

Captain Obvious, I thought. Instead, I said: "Yeah, I kind of got that."

"If you hadn't stopped me, I would have lost what little humanity I have. I would have murdered someone Sue loves and destroyed everything the Cullens have built here." I hated the lost, resigned tone in his voice.

He looked down at his hands, those magnificent hands that such a short time ago had transported me to a very happy place. Like a little boy trying to occupy his mind while sitting in time out, he picked at a thumbnail, digging at his cuticle with a viciousness that was in direct contrast to his quiet, contrite tone.

"Of course, you will want me to leave now," he said. "Sue will not want me in her home any longer. Perhaps the Cullens would be able to accept me. Or perhaps it would be better for me to leave Forks altogether. "

Acute, searing pain stabbed through my chest, radiating outward from the latch-point of that damned psychic cable. "No!" I didn't mean to shout. My voice, my breathing, the whole situation—everything seemed like it was slipping from my control.

He looked up from his self-abuse, his almond eyes wide, first with surprise and then with what looked like might be the stirrings of hope. I was desperate to fan that spark.

I dropped to my knees in front of him, pushed his arms out of my way and climbed into his lap, right there in the dirt behind my father's woodshed. Straddling his legs, I grabbed him by the ears.

"Stop. It. Right. Now." I commanded, punctuating each word with a rough shake. I hated the taint of hysteria that I could hear edging into my voice. "You are not fucking going anywhere. I won't allow it. Do you understand?"

Relief dawned on his beautiful face, and I thought he might kiss me again. I wanted him to kiss me again. Instead he crushed me to his chest and buried his face against my neck. He gripped me so tightly his arms shook, so tightly he'd have cracked my ribs if I'd been a human woman.

Then again, if I'd been human, I'd be running in the opposite direction right now, wouldn't I? I'd have split the first time he admitted—in a roundabout way—that he'd once fed on humans. I'd have screamed bloody murder when he tried to kill my mother's boyfriend.

But I was a werewolf, and he was my imprint. So instead of all the things a human woman would do, I simply wrapped my arms around him and returned his embrace.

"Thank you. Thank you." He crooned the words over and over again into my shoulder, his voice a raw, ragged whisper. "Ñi piuque, thank you." Was he thanking me for not sending him away? Or for stopping him from killing Charlie? Maybe both.

Jake's shout and the thudding of two sets of footsteps broke us apart. I climbed off Nahuel's lap and was on my feet by the time Jake rounded the corner of the woodshed with Seth two steps behind him.

"Alice had a vision," he barked, in full Alpha mode. "Charlie's on his way to confront Edward and Bella. An intruder is going to attack his car on the way. She thinks it's one of Joham's newborns."

Nahuel rose and stood beside me, seemingly unaffected by his father's name. Maybe I'd actually been able to head off his back-sliding.

"We're closer to the attack scene than the Cullens. We'll get there first, but we have to go now," Jake said, tossing his cell phone to Nahuel. "You too. We need someone who can stay on the phone with Alice while we run. "When we get there, you stay back, out of the fighting. Let us handle this."

We phased on the run. Beside me, Nahuel moved with fluid grace and speed, effortlessly keeping pace. After the emotional turmoil of the past few hours, running was a release. I felt the tension melt away from my muscles, replaced by that powerful readiness that I always felt before a fight.

I couldn't take back the words that I'd shouted at Charlie, words that had changed everything for everyone. All I could do was run, and hope we got there in time to save the man my mother loved.

End Note: Okay, so hopefully Leah and I aren't the only ones who had trouble swallowing Charlie's acceptance of the whole "need to know" thing in BD. As a parent and a professional investigator, he should have been a wee bit more inquisitive, don't you think? Thanks for reading and keep those reviews coming. I promise the next update will be very soon!