Disclaimer: This also applies to chapter one. "Fallible" is mine. The Twilight Saga is not, and there is no copyright infringement intended. I'm only borrowing these characters, not adopting them.

13 – INCREDULOUS SPEECHLESS FLABBERGASTED – 13

"Are you finding everything okay, de - ?" The sales woman at the corner grocery store stops midsentence as I swing my face around towards her, bringing my angry, red and slow-healing scars into her view. I watch as she visibly recoils and gives me a quick uncertain look before remembering herself and plastering a polite smile onto her features.

Her voice is quieter as she speaks again, the cheeriness all gone.

"Are you all set?" She asks, trying and failing to make eye contact.

"Yes I'm ready," I respond, somewhat stiffly. It's been at least a week and I'm nowhere near comfortable yet with the scrutiny ... with people's reactions ... any of it. I've never been the type of person who revels in being the center of attention, so this definitely doesn't make it any easier.

Her nametag reads Daisy, but she has informed me jokingly that her name is actually Sarah and she is too lazy to make a new tag. Instead of making idle chitchat with me this time like she has done on numerous occasions, the woman quickly rings up my items and sends me on my way with a hurried "Have a nice day, Miss Clearwater!"

I don't bother to correct her about my name.

I leave the store with my head down and my eyes growing damp with the promise of tears. As if I've done something shameful - that's how people are treating me. As if I've done something to deserve this. With the exception of my family - Aunt Sue, Seth, and Harry who just look at me with pity - everyone looks at me now with judgment in their eyes.

Except Leah and Sam. They don't look at me at all.

"Emily," a deep voice interrupts my pity party, and I look up to see none other than Paul. He's standing few feet away, like he's afraid to get close. No, actually, like he's afraid that I'm afraid for him to be close. He looks at me, partly wary, partly annoyed.

Automatically I attempt to blink back the tears, but I know it's pointless.

"Hello Paul," I say, tiredly. There's no use in pretending I wasn't crying just now.

He holds his hand out, and after a few seconds, I realize that he's waiting for me to hand him my grocery bags.

"Come on," he says, impatiently. My eyebrows go up slightly, but I hand them over. He starts walking back towards Sam's and my house without another word, leaving me to follow behind him listlessly.

We make it back to the house, me with my head down the entire way. It's not a long journey but we do pass people along the way and I'm really not feeling up to the stares and stage whispers. In a way Paul is the perfect person to have with me because due to his bad boy reputation, people tend to naturally avoid him. I'm sure at the moment that we make quite a pair.

We reach the house unscathed and my mood brightens a bit.

"Would you like to come in?" I ask hesitantly. He raises an eyebrow.

"I have this new spaghetti recipe I was going to try," I clarify. To be honest I want to pay him back the kindness and it's nice to have someone around who isn't looking at me like I'm diseased and contagious.

"Wouldn't wanna eat up all your food," he says, a bit sarcastically. I don't take it personally, though. That's typical Paul, I'm beginning to understand.

"Oh, it's fine! With the way Sam eats, I always buy enough to feed an army now," I say, waving away whatever he was going to say next to decline my offer.

He shrugs. "Whatever."

I smile for half a second before it's swept away with a grimace. I can only imagine what I must look like with half of my face not working the way it should. Funny how I was never all that vain before and now my appearance is all I can seem to think about.

Instead of attempting to engage him in further conversation, I hand him the remote and busy myself in the kitchen. It's such stereotypical domestication, I know, but quite truthfully, it's much better than being alone -

- alone most of the time has given me more than enough time to get my act together and decide what I want to do. My parents have reminded me more than once that I am welcome back home any time. Aunt Sue has said the same and has even gone so far to suggest that I take a year or two off from school. I flinched when she said that but I know it was coming from a place of wanting to protect me.

I decide to compromise and take classes online for one semester, just until I'm more comfortable being out in the open.

I haven't seen Sam for about a week now, since I've been back home. I mean, I've seen him, but only in passing. I see Jared and Paul more often, and while it's comforting to know that Sam has probably set them on me to keep me from loneliness, it's him I want to see so it doesn't really help as much as I wish it did. I want to talk about all of this, to talk about what happened, why he lost control – not to hear him apologize anymore, but to talk about it and fix whatever went wrong, so that it never happens again.

More than anything, though, I want to make sure he's okay.

I sigh and push open the door to Harry's store. According to Aunt Sue, Harry said there's an extra shift today if I want it, and it's not so much the idea of the shift that gets me out of bed, so much as the opportunity to finally get some of my questions answered by someone close to me who knows what's going on.

"Hey, Emily," Uncle Harry says in his gravelly voice. I note pity in his eyes, a given, but also concern and wariness. I give him a brief smile.

"Uncle Harry," I greet.

"Sure missed you around here, kiddo. How're you holding up?" he asks, rubbing his neck.

"Honestly, I'm fine," I say, hoping that the easy tone of my voice will put him at ease. "Is… Sam here?"

"Reorganizing the stock room, but he's almost done. Bout to head out to… ah… head out," he trails off as a woman who was lurking in aisle four suddenly appears.

"Oh!" she says, upon catching a glimpse of me. I drop my eyes and look away, instantly embarrassed.

"All set, Bonnie?" Uncle Harry asks, a slight warning in his tone.

I look up again and turn slightly as footsteps approach from behind me. Sam.

"Are you done here or is there something I can help you find?" he asks, his tone positively venomous.

I can feel the tension in the room as everyone takes in what he says. Uncle Harry flushes red, as do I. The woman, Bonnie, practically turns purple.

"I j-just need to b-be checked out," she stutters, turning away from both Sam and me hastily.

Uncle Harry quickly rings her up and sends her on her way. None of us says a word until the bell rings signaling her departure.

"Sam – " Uncle Harry starts to say in a disapproving tone.

"I need to go," Sam interrupts, and heads for the door.

"Wait!" I say, hurrying after him. "Sam, wait!"

He stops when we get outside and turns to face me, a pained expression on his face.

"What was that?" I ask.

"What?" he says, everything about him guarded.

"You didn't have to treat her like that," I say, softly.

"I didn't like the way she was staring at you," he responds, defensively, unwilling to make eye contact.

"But… people are going to stare."

He shakes his head. "Emily – "

"I want you home," I blurt out, before he can make his excuses and run off again. "I've barely seen you since before I went into the hospital – " He winces. " – And I miss you."

"I – " he starts to say, but I cut him off and keep talking.

"No, whatever you're going to say, I don't want to hear it. No excuses. I want you home. Uncle Harry told me that you receive a stipend from the council for what you do. You don't need to work three jobs, Sam."

Now he looks confused. "I only work two."

"Here, the store, and that construction job, plus wolf makes three," I say, counting it out on my fingers. "Knowing you, you probably have some insane idea that if you keep yourself busy and away from me, you can't hurt me again, but you're wrong. Not being around you is hurting me. Knowing that you're out there doing whatever it is that you do, and that everyone gets to see you, except me… that hurts me. I miss you and I want to be around you and I want you to be around me."

He sighs heavily. "Emily – " he starts to say, softly, but I'm not having it.

"No, Sam," I say, firmly. "I would like you to be home tonight. Please."

It takes him a minute, but he finally meets my eyes and nods.

"I'll be there," he says, with a heavy sigh.

True to his word, a shift and several hours later, he's waiting for me on the couch when I walk through the door. It reminds of me wild summer nights out with Leah just a few years ago, and Aunt Sue waiting up with pursed lips. A rush of sadness hits me, but I quickly push it back. Those days are long gone, and I need to let them go.

"Hi," I say, approaching him slowly, cautiously, not because I'm nervous, but because I don't want him to bolt.

He looks up to meet my eyes, his gaze tortured. He doesn't say anything, and I don't know how to start.

I take a deep breath and sit down next to him. I see him visibly tense up, and my heart breaks a little as he inches away from me.

"Sam," I start to say, reproachfully, but at that one word, he jumps up startling me.

"I can't do this," he says, spinning around to face me. "I can't. What if something happens? How can you… how can you be okay with being in the same room as me? Aren't you afraid? Aren't you scared?"

"Sam – " I start to say, but it's his turn to interrupt me.

He lets out a short laugh, a bit hysterically. "I'm no better than them. I'm not. Protector? Some protector I am. Look at you, Emily! Look at your face!"

I reel back as if he's slapped me, as shock and hurt whip through me at his words.

"And the worst part of it is," he continues, as he stares at me in disgust for himself, "is that after all of it, I kept thinking, 'she has to believe me now.'"

I watch him as he hides his face in his hands and sinks to the ground. He mumbles something that I don't quite catch.

I probably say, "What?" out loud, but my heart is seemingly pounding too loudly for me to hear myself speak.

He looks up, at a point near my left shoulder and speaks in a monotone voice, much like when I first ran into him earlier this summer, and like earlier this summer, I can detect no emotion whatsoever in his voice.

"You need to leave," he says, and everything in me that was hanging on strings plummets to the ground.

I stare at him, incredulous, speechless, flabbergasted.

He repeats himself.

"You. Need. To. Leave." He continues in a harsh tone. "I got some boxes while you were at the store. Your stuff is packed. I'm sorry I put you through all of this. I told Harry earlier. I told him the truth. He's coming to get you. It's not safe for you to be around me."

"Ex-cuse me?" I say, finding my voice.

"You're leaving. Back to Seattle. You don't have to worry about me anymore. About any of this freaky shit."

On shaky legs, I stand, blink, and then wobble down the hall to our (his?) room. A few boxes sit in the middle of the room, sealed and labeled. I rub my eyes as if that will rub what I'm seeing away.

I turn and jump as I realize he's followed me down the hall.

"You don't have to carry anything," he continues, in that same cold voice. "If you want, you can even drive your car over to the Clearwater's right now. Harry and I can take care of this."

"You're kicking me out," I say, and it's not a question. "Are you breaking up with me, too?" As cliché as it is, my voice wobbles.

He doesn't even hesitate. "What do you think, Emily?" he says, in a tired voice.

There are no words for how I feel at that moment. No words at all. I want to reassure him that we'll be okay, but at the same time, I want to break his face. I want to yell and scream and call him a coward. I want to cry and I want to ask him what it was all for, if he wasn't going to try in the end. What did I betray my family for, if he was going to just give up?

"I slapped Leah," I say instead, calmly.

His jaw drops. "You… what?"

"She told me what happened between you two. So I slapped her. Not physically, but verbally. I gave her what I thought she deserved. I told her off. In defense of you," I continue, in the same calm tone. "I stood up to Aunt Sue, who has never been anything but hospitable and kind to me. I've done things that Seth will never understand in a million years. I convinced my parents that you were the one. My brother, whose advice I've always taken, I just ignored. I turned on Leah. Leah, who was my best friend in the world, who I swore I would never fight with over something as stupid as a boy. I lost her. For you. I've become the town harlot. Everyone knows that I 'stole my cousin's boyfriend,' and I know everyone thinks I got what I deserved."

He looks away, but doesn't say anything.

"I've been fighting this thing between us almost all summer, trying to call it hormones, lust, obsession… anything but love. So when you said what you said about being a wolf, and the legends being true, I thought, 'Finally. I finally have a reason to walk away from all of this,' because I knew that what I felt didn't make any sense. I knew that loving you, being in love with you, didn't make any sense."

"You – " He starts to speak, but I don't let him.

"Yes, Sam. I'm in love with you. I love you," I say, my chest tight. "And I know it makes no sense, especially that I'm telling you right now, but if you're going to kick me out, and you're going to break up with me, I think I deserve to know why. Why everything happened the way it did. I want to know the real reason you left Leah for me and the real reason why you pursued me like you did. I'm not an idiot, I know all of this has to be connected. And I want to know how. Right now."

He blinks at me. Then, to my complete surprise, a tiny smile forms on his lips. "You… love me?" he asks, wonderingly.

I feel my face get hot and my eyes simultaneously fill with tears. "Yes," I whisper, refusing to make eye-contact with him. "But what does it matter if you're breaking up with me?"

"I'm…" he starts to say something, but trails off.

"Please explain it to me," I say, brushing fallen tears away.

He just looks at me, really uncertain now.

"Sam – "

"It's called imprinting."

"It's related."

"It is. It's when… we see our mates, our other halves, the one our wolf chooses to be the center of the universe. I can't describe it to you any better than that. You're the one I'm supposed to be with. But… I fucked it up. I… we're not supposed to be able to hurt our imprints at all, especially not physically. I messed up really bad, Emily. Every time I look at you and I see the evidence of what happened, as a man and as a wolf, I want to hunt down the person who did it and make them pay. But, the person who did it was me, so how am I supposed to protect you from myself other than staying away from you? And I hate that. I hate being away from you just as much, if not more than you hate me being away from you, but I have to protect you."

"No matter what the cost?" I ask.

"As leader of my pack, I have to make the decisions. All of them. Not everyone is going to like every decision I make, but you have to understand, I'm doing this to – "

"I'm not in your pack," I say, eyebrows raised.

"Yes you are. As my imprint, you're the most important member of my pack. I have to make sure you're okay, first and foremost," he responds, all seriousness.

"Well, I'm not okay," I say, simply. "And I'm not talking about the scars. This whole thing is ridiculous. How can you believe that I'm your other half and your soul-mate and then tell me you're breaking up with me? How can you tell me that I'm the most important person in your world and then tell me to get out of our – oh, excuse me – your house? How are you supposed to protect me if you're telling me to go back to Seattle without you and you won't be around?

"I can accept the wolf shape-shifting abilities, and I can accept the fact that there are actual vampires in the world. I can accept the fact that you imprinted on me, and I can accept the fact that if you didn't, you would probably still be with Leah because you're a good enough person that you wouldn't have given me a second glance. But I cannot accept the fact that you think that by sending me to Seattle, all of our problems are just going to go away. Do you think that we'll just forget about each other? Because I'm not going to get over you. If we really have this amazing bond, then why are you not trying harder? I don't understand that. I want to be with you, and if I'm not with you, then I will never be okay."

I'm openly crying now, but I don't care. He just stares at me, helplessly.

"I'm just trying to do the right thing," he finally whispers.

"And you think sending me away - ?"

"I don't know!" he says, a desperate note to his voice causing me to look up. "If it would help, I guess. I just… I'm the leader. Everyone just expects me to know how to deal with this, and I… I'm alone. I was alone. And I couldn't tell anyone."

And in a move very uncharacteristic of anything Sam's ever done, he sinks to the ground right there in the hallway, bows his head, and starts to cry silently.

My heart breaks all over again as I watch him. We're silent for a few minutes as I contemplate what he's just said. He was completely alone. He was running around as a wolf without anyone to help him. I shudder as I think about how frightening that must've been, especially because he had no one to explain to him what was going on once he managed to finally phase back. And then I strengthen my resolve. It was wrong that he had to be alone. All of this is wrong, but most importantly…

"I am so sorry that happened to you, but you are not alone anymore, Sam. And you never have to be alone again. I'm here with you. And even if you kick me out of this house, I'm not going anywhere. I'm not leaving this reservation," I say, determinedly. "I love you."

I lean down and wrap my arms around him, ignoring the way his entire body tenses up as a response to my proximity. I can be just as stubborn as him and he needs to know that I mean what I say; I'm not going anywhere.

He mumbles something after a moment or so, but I don't understand until he straightens up underneath me, and extracts his arms from between our bodies to return my embrace.

"I love you, too," he repeats, more clearly, causing me to smile and simultaneously tighten my hold on him.

I want to give him the world, but I know that realistically, I can't. I can do this, though. I can give him me. I can give him all of me, my support, my love, my everything – everything I have to give, he can have it. And no matter what happens, we'll get through it together because we are Emily and Sam. Sam and Emily, and we can do this –

- this. It shouldn't be too hard. I take a deep breath. I just have to walk up to the house, knock on the door, keep walking… make it to Leah's room, look her in the eye –

I wince. That should be easier said than done.

Before I'm ready, I force myself to knock on the door.

Before I'm ready, the door is opened, and I'm face to face with Leah, instead of Aunt Sue like I expected.

She takes one look at me, and shuts the door in my face before I can say a word.

"Leah!" I choke out, knocking on the door again. Of course there is no answer. I don't know what I expected.

I try for the knob, and to my surprise, the door opens easily. In her haste to put distance between us, Leah must've forgotten to lock it. Sure enough, I step inside and she's nowhere to be seen. Must be in her room.

I head up the stairs, noting the absence of everyone else. Good. This will be easier if there's no one else around to be a witness. Leah and I need to have this talk alone.

I feel a sense of relief when I see she hasn't bothered to close her door.

"Leah," I say, softly, lingering in her doorway.

She's standing by her window, facing away from the door, so she jumps when I say her name. She whirls around, surprise and anger written all over her face.

"So you just walk right up into the house now? Get out!" she exclaims.

"Leah, we have to talk," I say, holding my ground.

"If you don't get out right now, I'm calling the authorities," she says, practically growling at me.

"To do what?" I say, tiredly. "We're related, and once your parents are notified, no one is going to make me leave. So let's just… skip all of this and talk it over like civilized people."

"Nothing about you is civilized," she hisses.

I take a deep breath. "I know you're mad at me," I start.

"You don't know shit," she interrupts. "I'm not mad at you. I fucking hate you."

"Lee – "

"No, Emily," she interrupts again, eyes flashing. "I'm tired and done with your self-righteous 'Sam and I needed each other and we're the perfect balance' crap! I don't know what spell you've got my dad under either, but when it comes down to it, you stole my boyfriend, so whatever you came over here to say, I don't want to hear it, and nothing you say is going to make me change my mind. I've never felt more betrayed by anyone or anything in my life. You chose Sam over me. You chose a boy over me. You chose my boyfriend over me. You came to my house this summer to spend time with me, your supposed best friend, before I was supposed to embark on the best journey of my life – getting married to my high school sweetheart – and he fell for you, and instead of doing the appropriate thing like telling him where he could shove it, you instead turned around and accepted his invitation.

"So whatever you're going to say, it doesn't matter. You are scum. Don't tell me I'm overreacting and don't patronize me. You can't make it up to me, unless you break up with him, but clearly that's not going to happen, so don't come over here pretending we can still fix things. It's never going to be the same. It's over, Emily. It's probably unrealistic to say I never want to see your face again, because I'm sure you're still planning on living with him, so unfortunately I'll have to be subject to that, but just for your own knowledge, I never want to see your face again."

I go pale at her words, and have to literally hold on to the door frame so that I don't stumble backwards from the sudden weakness in my knees.

My mouth gapes like a fish as I struggle to find words, but in the face of all her hostility, I find nothing, and instead, turn and retreat down the stairs as fast as my wobbly legs will allow me. I keep going until I'm out of the house and on the front porch.

And then, in much the same way Sam did the day before, I sink down to the ground and I let myself cry, because no matter what I say, or no matter what else she says, she's absolutely right. I did exactly that. After a while I stopped rejecting Sam's advances and I let him in, and since I can't rightly tell her about the imprinting or the werewolf deal, she will never be able to understand.

I came over here hoping that if she saw it from my point of view she might be able to forgive me, but realistically… if our roles were switched, I don't think I'd be able to forgive her. And yet, even with all of that knowledge… even knowing that I've probably lost Leah Clearwater as my best friend, occasional sister, and cousin, I still don't even entertain the idea of walking away from Sam Uley. I don't know if imprinting works both ways – from the way Sam described how he felt about me to me, I doubt that it does – but I know that I'm in love and selfishly so. And despite of the horrible person it probably makes me, I wouldn't give this up for anything –

- anything else you need, just let me know," my brother, Matt says on the other end of the phone.

"Thanks, Matty," I say, sincerely.

"No problem. Like I said I had a few friends who went to that school, so I've got connections. Sort of." He laughs.

I smile. "So, I know Mom probably calls and asks you all the time, but how's Meghan?"

"Good! Really good. She's healthy, and we're just excited, you know? Waiting for Claire to get here," he says, the excitement in his voice contagious.

I grin. "That sounds amazing."

"It is! Speaking of Claire, Meghan and I had an idea we wanted to share with you. I told her about… well, your situation and Leah and everything, and I know it's a sensitive topic, but what if we made it a little bit easier for you?"

"How so?" I ask, curiously.

"Well… as you know, Meghan's family is of Makah heritage and they live not too far from you guys… they're thinking about renting out their old house because it's too big for them now that Meghan's younger twin brothers have left for the university, and they're going to move a few houses down. But… now that the two of us have our own little family, we're thinking of moving down there… plus, we get to be closer to you – "

"Yes!" I interrupt, now as excited as he is. "When? When would you come?"

He laughs. "We would have to wait until after Claire is born, of course. Meghan can't fly so close to the due date."

"Of course, of course," I say, still barely able to contain myself. "And if you ever needed a babysitter – "

"I have a little sister who would be perfect for the job," Matt finishes, still laughing.

"So you're really coming?" I ask.

"We're really coming," he confirms. "I talked it over with Dad and he thinks it's a great idea. You know Mom loves the idea of having you and I live nearby. Not that she doesn't trust Sam, or anything, but… well I mean, I know it's none of my business, but you're still my little sister, Emily. And it's easy to see that Sam has your best interests at heart, but… it's hard to understand how he could just switch from Leah to you so quickly. Not that you aren't better, or worse, or anything like that, but... It's always worse if it's someone you know. I don't know what you guys went through, but I know you and Leah were really close, so I can't even imagine how that went down. I just want you to know, though, that I'm your brother and if the time comes when I have to choose, I'll always be on your side."

I feel the tears welling up behind my eyes, but I blink them away, although no one is around to see me cry. It means the world to me that he would say that, especially when he doesn't know the whole story.

"Thanks, Matty," I say, quietly.

Our talk turns quickly to other things, because although there have been a few occasions where Matt knows the perfect thing to say, I wouldn't really categorize him as the "sensitive" type. But long after the conversation, I have a happy glow in my stomach, because although I still feel horrible about everything concerning Leah, and no clue how to resolve it, or even if it's possible to be resolved, it's still really good to know that I do have people I will always be able to count on.

- FadingSlowly