Author's Note:

Hello, loves! I'm a little nervous but excited about this chapter.

For starters, I got my first review, and am completely ecstatic to be receiving feedback. I honestly love writing this story and if just one of you is enjoying this, that makes it worth it to me. I'm still developing these characters and am not really sure yet where this is headed. I'm trying to just let it happen and see where it leads me, so if I take a wrong turn or two, please feel free to let me know.

Secondly, this chapter dives into Alex's discomfort around people and starts to explore a very real part of life for some people. Trying to portray it accurately is difficult, especially as I don't have a lot of personal experience with it.

I'm just about to get to the story part so bare with me for a few more lines. MenacingPancake had a few questions that I'd like to answer for you all because I think it may be helpful in picturing the story. I haven't said it, but Alex is 24 years old, and Embry is around 27. The story begins about ten years after Breaking Dawn - I think that frame of reference is important as we go along, so I'm thankful it was asked.

Enjoy!

Chapter Eight - Panic

It had been one week since Alex had Embry over for movie night, and since then he'd found himself at her house three more times. The first time being just two days after their movie night when he returned the cheesecake container. It had been a brief visit, but she hadn't pushed him out the door. The second visit was Saturday, when Sam sent him over to set up her porch swing. He had taken his sweet time, and she'd even sat outside with him while he worked. The third time came two days later, when he went to retrieve a water bottle he had 'accidentally' forgotten there while working on the swing.

She still spoke infrequently, but he'd added several points to the list of things he knew about her. Her grandma, on her father's side, was the reason she loved to cook and never went to a gathering empty handed. She had an older brother named Eric, who she seemed to have adored when they were little, judging from her smiles. The dark look that quickly followed that smile, however, told him that may not still be the case. She loved dyed sunflowers, and her favorite color was blue. She'd moved to La Push to be near her grandma because, at 73, she was getting older and her health was declining. She was sweet, and when he asked her too many questions, her pulse speed up.

Now, he was out of excuses to visit her. He wondered briefly if they had reached a point where she'd be comfortable with him popping by to just hang out, but he doubted it. Any other girl probably wouldn't mind, any other imprint most likely would have been happy. But Alex was different. Dealing with a married woman meant he had to be carefully about how he went about becoming her friend. Dealing with Alex meant he had to go twice as slow.

Alex still hadn't mentioned her husband, and Embry hadn't found it in him to ask about the ring she wore. Hearing her finally say it, say she was married...he wasn't sure he could handle that. There was a difference between knowing there was a man out there she loved enough to marry, and hearing her talk about it. He wasn't sure he was prepared for it, but he'd have to soon either way, because he needed to know about him. Needed to know if he would take care of her, love her, provide for her. Needed to know if she was happy. If he knew she was happy with him, he thought it might make being just her friend easier. A small part of him wondered if the reason she didn't talk about her husband was because she wasn't happy with him, and then he wasn't sure what he would do.

To fulfill his need to be close to her, he often patrolled around her house. He found assuring himself she was safe lessened the uneasiness he felt when they were apart. On the days he didn't get to see her, he'd pick up extra shifts so he could be near here while giving the others more time with their own imprints. He tried to keep busy with the garage but he found the longer he was away from her, the harder it was to focus at work. He needed to see her, and the more he saw her, the more time he wanted to spend with her.

Finally, on Thursday, Mrs. Walks called Sam. She had talked her granddaughter into hosting a housewarming party because she thought she needed to meet new people and mingle. She was in charge of the guest list, and thought the boys and their partners would be perfect. Sam suspected that Mrs. Walks had an idea of the imprint, but he couldn't be sure. So when Sam asked Embry about what he thought they should do, Embry was unsure. That many people, especially that many people their size, could easily frighten her. He didn't want her overwhelmed and uncomfortable. They'd decided that just a few of them, with their imprints, would attend.

Sam had told Mrs. Walks that most of the boys were busy, but that he and Emily, Jared and Kim, plus Embry would be coming. Embry knew she'd still be nervous, but with only five of them plus her grandma, it shouldn't completely overwhelm her.

He was wrong. Dead wrong. He'd completely underestimated the level of discomfort she felt around others. When he'd arrived, almost an hour early under the pretense of offering her help preparing, her hands were shaking, her heartbeat was erratic, and she was sweating. Her eyes wouldn't focus on him, instead they were jetting around the room and a mile a minute

"Alex? Alex, what's wrong?" She was pacing and shaking in the kitchen.

"It - It'll be over soon, I'm fine."

He didn't know what she meant, he was starting to panic, "Alex, what will be over soon?"

"This," she motioned to herself. "I'll be fine in a little wh-while."

She didn't sound so sure. "Has this happened before?" She nodded. "We can cancel, Alex, if you want. They'll all understand." She shook her head. "Does your grandma know?" Another shake of the head. "What can I do?"

She didn't answer, just paced. Her heart continued to thump irregularly. She was nervous, anxious, but this was a level he hadn't seen before. The dinner was too much, he could tell. He thought if it were just the five of them she would be fine, but clearly that wasn't happening.

"Alex, I'm going to call Sam and your grandma and cancel. We can do it another time, ok? They'll understand, I can just tell them you're sick." When she didn't respond he continued, "I'm going to step outside and call them, ok? I'll be right back."

He called Mrs. Walks first, telling her he'd showed up early to help Alex and found that she was sick. He promised her that Sam would reschedule it with her, and assured she didn't have to take care of Alex, he had it under control. Then he called Sam.

"Hello?"

"Hey Sam, it's Embry. I'm at Alex's right now, and she's freaking out. Her heartbeat is all over the place and she's shaking. I really don't think this is a good idea right now, I called Mrs. Walks and told her Alex was sick."

"Is she ok? Do you need any help?"

"I don't know Sam, she's just pacing in there. I just, I think we should reschedule."

"Ok, whatever she needs. I'll tell Kim and Jared."

"Thank you, Sam. I'm going to stay and make sure she's ok."

"Of course, tell us if you need anything."

When they'd hung up, he felt better. Of course they would be ok with them cancelling, if it was what she needed. She was family now, even if she didn't know it. Even if it wasn't the way they'd all come to expect. If she needed something, they would do their best to help. They wouldn't be upset.

So he went back inside, trying to think of what to do to help her. Maybe once he told her they weren't coming, it would be ok. He went back into the kitchen and sat on one of the stools, giving her some distance. "I told them that you were sick and that tonight wasn't a good time. They said they hope you feel better. They're not upset, Alex, ok? No one's coming, it's ok."

He sat there, watching her continue to pace across the kitchen. She was still shaking, and sweating, but her pulse was calming down. He moved to the stove to stir something that was boiling, potatoes, and turned off the oven when the timer went off. Her pacing slowed. He pulled the pan of chicken out of the oven as well as a dish of green beans before turning of the stove. He wasn't sure how long the potatoes were suppose to cook, he didn't want to ruin them. As he continued to cook, she calmed down. She stopped pacing next to the island, watching him remove the chicken from the pan and place the pieces carefully into a large glass dish. When he had done all he could do, he turned back to her. She seemed better, her hands were barely shaking anymore.

"How are we doing?" He asked, carefully taking a couple steps towards her.

"Better, thank you. I'm sorry about that."

He shook his head, "Nothing to apologize for as long as you're ok."

"I am. That...well, it happens sometimes,' she shrugged.

"Can I ask why? Or what exactly 'that' was?" Her pulse sped up again. "Hey, hey, it's ok, Alex. It's just me, you don't have to be nervous. You don't even have to answer, ok?"

He waited for her to calm down again. "Sorry."

"It's ok, why don't you take a minute and then we can have dinner - I mean you already did all the cooking," he smiled at her and she nodded before leaving the room. He heard her go up the stairs and then the sink in the bathroom turn on.

He took plates and silverware out of the cupboards and drawers and set the table. He put the dish of chicken in the middle of the table and the green beans next to before going to drain the potatoes and putting them back in their pot - not sure if they were done. He poured them each a glass of soda. The water had shut off upstairs but she hadn't left the bathroom so he started on cleaning the pans before sitting at the table to wait for her. When she came back down, she looked better and mashed the potatoes without a word. They ate in silence for a while before she set her fork down on her plate and looked at him for a minute.

"It's called a panic attack, I have them sometimes." He looked up at her in surprise. "I don't have them a lot, but they started when I was in highschool."

She was talking, voluntarily, and he wasn't going to stop her. She looked...determined, though he couldn't figure out why.

"I...People make me nervous. I'm not really sure why," that was a lie, he could tell, her pulse gave it away. He didn't call her on it though, just happy to be getting some of the truth. "Not a lot of people know, I haven't told my grandma. I just, I don't want anyone to look at me differently."

"Who does know?"

"Just my friend Carrie and my husband."

There it was, out in the open now. She had said the words.

"Husband?" He tried to control his voice.

"Yeah, my husband, his name is Mark." She was smiling, actually smiling. And so he had his answer.

Disclaimer:

This is here at the bottom since my Author's note was long, but y'all already know I am not the lovely brunette making the millions off of Twilight because I don't own it. Sadly.