Title: Delinquent
Genre: Angst
Rating: T
Pairing: Paul and Charlie
Words: 500 even
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Prompt: "I don't need to be saved."

AN: Again, this is going to be expanded. I'm torn between which one I'll do first- this or Home, but at the moment I'm leaning toward this one. We'll see what happens ;)

~oOo~oOo~oOo~oOo~oOo~oOo~

Delinquent

I couldn't hold back a sigh as he was escorted through the station and straight to lock-up. It was a familiar sight, but one I'd tried my best to stop more times than I could count. Sometimes I thought I was the only person on earth who hadn't completely given up on that boy.

Hearing him make his one phone call, I knew my statement was wrong. There was at least one other person who cared about him—Sam Uley. He'd been the one to pick Paul up the past few months, though I really had no idea the two were even friends.

Knowing I had only a half hour at most, I made the trek down the hallway to try my luck one more time. Paul must have been expecting me, because he looked up with a cheerful grin on his bloody face. It took all my years of training not to wince at the sight of the deep gash on his cheek and his swollen lip.

"Hey, Chief. How's it hanging?" My eyes closed in pain at his customary greeting, seeing the face of a much younger boy in this jaded young man's place.

I met Paul when he was only eight, when I got a call about a domestic dispute in La Push. I knew it had to be serious because they normally liked to handle things on their own down there. It turned out there wasn't much I could do.

Paul's parents were screaming at each other while he sat huddled in his bedroom closet, completely forgotten by the two people who were supposed to care for him the most. I tried to befriend the boy, taking him fishing with me and Billy every chance we got. Billy wouldn't let me get CPS involved, and things settled down a bit when his mother took off a year later.

I hadn't seen his dad around in recent months either, but Paul was a regular in our holding cells from the time he hit puberty. Underage drinking, vandalism, assault, drugs—you name it, and he had done it. The boy just seemed pre-wired for violence, and his charm and good looks did little to endear him to those in authority.

"Don't look sad, Chief." Paul waited for me to look at him before winking and leaning back against the cold concrete wall. "You should see the other guy."

I had seen the other guy—he was down at Forks General with Dr. Cullen. I didn't even question how Carlisle knew exactly who put the man there, but I had to try and reason with the boy one more time.

"Paul, why do you keep doing this? Let me help you out, son." I watched his eyes closely, not missing the hint of longing that flared when I called him son.

As soon as it sparked, he fought it back with a dismissive wave and a hateful sneer. "Just give it up, Charlie. I don't need to be saved."