Harry's words stuck with Sam. He decided not to tell her more, not yet anyway. He could always explain everything later, but once the words were spoken, they could not be unsaid.

What did he want for himself? What did he want for her? He had everything planned out so well. They had already gotten engaged. In a month they were supposed to take the trip they'd been dreaming about for years. They were supposed to go to Seattle, study hard and play hard. They were supposed to make a life together. Have adventures together. Get married and get jobs and raise a family together. They deserved it, didn't they? He wasn't entitled to it, exactly, but he had been so careful, planned so well, worked so hard. So had she.

How was he going to make it happen now? He eyed Jared, Paul, Jacob, and Quil whenever he saw them, wondering when they would join him. Jared he liked, from what he knew of him. Paul he despised. Jacob and Quil were nice enough, but young. He didn't know them very well. And these were supposed to be his brothers? Obligations to these boys were going to keep him trapped here? Harry and Billy hadn't said it, exactly, but they made him understand that if he left, the terror that overwhelmed him would be visited upon them. He asked if they could simply be warned. Told about what would happen. He could talk them through as much of it before he left, couldn't he? He could even show them.

It was Old Quil who put a stop to that plan. They believed that the boys would phase eventually, but they really had no way to know. What if they told them everything only to scare them for no reason? What if they didn't phase at all? Then more people would know the secret and be able to spread it.

He didn't know what to do. The white lies and evasions put an incredible strain on his relationship with Leah. She was patient, but she had her limits. Grandma and his mother didn't really question his story that he was deliriously ill and lost for two weeks, although he wasn't sure they believed him either. Leah was certain he was holding something back. At first she didn't push, perhaps because she was scared he would disappear again if she said the wrong thing. But when she talked about their upcoming plans, about driving to California or moving to Seattle, he never knew how to answer her, and she knew something was wrong.

It didn't help that he kept leaving in the middle of the night or not showing up for dates. He slowly gained control over the tendency to phase involuntarily, but it was a slow process with many setbacks. Time after time they would start to argue, and he would storm off to phase. He wanted to tell her what was going on so badly. She thought she had done something wrong, because he had never been so angry with her before. He was horrified when she tearfully asked him if he wanted his grandmother's ring back. Did he still want to get married? Was it too soon? Had she been pressuring him without meaning to? All she wanted was for him to be happy, and for things to go back to normal. What she didn't understand was that normal was just a memory, and that he wasn't angry with her, not at all. He was angry with himself. Angry with the curse that was ruining his life. And he never wanted to walk away from her, but he feared the alternative. He would start to feel vibrations deep in his gut, and he knew that he had to get away before he phased in front of her. That made him even angrier, because the hurt and disappointed look in her eyes cut him to the quick, and that anger ate at his control. It was a vicious cycle of disappointment and frustration.

Every time he ran away from her or climbed out her window when he hoped she had fallen asleep but had not, when he had to release the wolf before it burst out of him in the middle of her room, she would call after him, "I love you, Sam Uley, and I'm not giving up on you!"

Upon his return, either minutes or hours later, he would kiss her desperately and reassure her that she had never done anything wrong, that he could never be mad at her, and that he was so sorry he couldn't tell her more. He would start to say he loved her, but the words would catch in his throat. How could he say those all-important words now, when he was treating her so terribly? They would sound like empty words meant to manipulate her into staying with him. So he closed his mouth and showed her how he felt with his body. If they were alone, he would take her frantically and roughly, desperate to communicate everything he couldn't say.

As September approached, and he still felt as if he'd never gain enough control over his wolf to leave La Push, he began to avoid her questions altogether. She would pull out a map and try to plan out the route for their trip, and he would make up an excuse to change the subject. He didn't think he could go with her, not even briefly. There was no way he could be with her around the clock and manage to keep his secret. Later, she'd ask about what they should bring with them to Seattle, and he would pretend he was too busy or bored to talk about it. Because he couldn't figure out a way that he could go with her, not now.

He despaired. What was he going to tell her? What could he say? Harry reassured him that plenty of other people had long distance relationships, and Seattle wasn't even that far away. It wasn't as if he had to stop seeing her altogether. They didn't need to break up. She could go to college now, and he might even be able to follow her in a year or two. Harry never mentioned the alternative that Sam wanted most: to tell her what was going on and ask her to stay with him until he could go with her. He wanted her to know why he was acting so strangely, so aggressive and angry, why he was avoiding her questions and running off at night. He was even confident she wouldn't dump him if she knew the bizarre and horrible truth. She had always supported him, and surely she would do so now. But that was the problem. She would probably insist on staying with him. She'd get a job and enroll in online classes, and he would have destroyed her dreams right along with his. And he could never do that. Even if the life he wanted was fading in front of his eyes, hers didn't have to disappear along with his. So he wouldn't tell her. He would protect her from himself at any cost.

He began to consider the worst option: breaking up with her for her own good. He knew it was probably the best thing to do, for her sake if not for his. She could live the life they wanted, the one they had worked so hard for. She would just have to do it without him. But he simply couldn't do it. It wasn't a possibility. He would sooner cut off his own arm rather than cut her out of his life. Because unless he could tell her what had happened to him, which he knew was not an option, he would have to tell her a terrible lie, that he had fallen out of love with her, or he didn't want her, or that he wanted a life without her. It was too absurd and awful to contemplate. So he would have to convince her to go to Seattle without him. But what was he supposed to tell her about why he was staying home? If only she didn't know about his scholarship. He might have simply said he didn't have enough money yet, and he had to stay home and work for a year or two before he could join her. She might have actually believed that.

At the end of August, a week before they were set to leave, the dreaded conversation finally happened. He had crept in her room the night before and made love to her tenderly and sweetly. It felt like it used to. He restrained his animal impulses and poured his heart into his actions. He was gentle and generous, patient but passionate, and it was beautiful. She was beautiful. And afterward, he had finally worked up the nerve to tell her he loved her when he realized she was deeply asleep on his chest. He hadn't wanted to move despite the fact that his wolf was itching to get out. He couldn't go more than a day or so without phasing, but he couldn't bear to tear himself away from her. So he shoved down the urge to let his wolf loose, and he stayed with her.

By the next morning he felt like his body was covered with fire ants. This was part of the reason he knew he wouldn't be ready to move to Seattle at the end of the month. It had been less than thirty six hours since his last phase, and he thought he might crawl right out of his skin. How could he move to a city in this state? It was difficult enough now, and he was only feet from the safety of the woods. He couldn't possibly trap himself in a high-rise or make do with city parks. It wasn't tenable. So what was he supposed to do?

He realized he was probably gripping Leah too hard in his frustration when she tried to roll over and got stuck in his arms. She giggled sleepily and lifted her head off his chest as soon as he loosened enough to allow it. "Are you trying to crush me?" she asked.

"Yeah." His voice was gravelly and rough with sleep. "Into tiny little Leah-pieces that I can put in my pocket and carry around."

Her smile was lopsided and adorable, just like the hair that was plastered against the side of her head where she had been resting on him. "You're crazy strong now. I don't think you need to break me into little pieces to carry me around."

He shrugged. "I guess doing manual labor for the past four years sort of paid off."

With a mischievous sparkle in her eye, she licked her lips and raked her eyes up and down his bare torso. "I'll say so. You look good, Sammy. I feel like a perv ogling you all the time. You should wear shirts less often." He actually agreed with the last point. His temperature never returned to normal, so he was uncomfortable in heavy clothing. "You're so hot." Then she frowned a little, touching his forehead with her fingertips. "Literally. You sure you're feeling okay? You still have a crazy fever."

His mood plummeted. Was there any way to get out of another worthless conversation about how he was doing? "I feel great. Better than great," he tried to reassure her.

She looked skeptical but took him at his word. "Good. When do you have to be at work?"

He glanced at the clock. "I have some time. Marty doesn't need me until ten today." He was lucky he was allowed back after going AWOL.

She grinned at him and jumped out of bed, tugging on a pair of panties and shorts. "Then maybe now's a good time to go over our route. I haven't been able to catch you long enough to ask, but I was looking up campsites, and I think I found a good place to stop when we're south of San Francisco."

Shit. He couldn't put this off any longer. She would start packing soon. "LeeLee, I don't think I can go."

She froze. "What, next week? Do we need to wait another week?"

"No." He shook his head. "Not at all. I can't... I don't think I can make it."

"Why?" She frowned at him as she fastened her bra. "What's going on?"

"I'm so sorry. I'm not going to be able to go on vacation. I really want to, but I can't. I'm so sorry."

She stared at him, waiting for him to say more. When he offered no other explanation and began to reach for his own shorts, she put her hand on his. "What's going on, Sammy?"

"I can't... I just can't go." He looked out the window, wanting to escape this conversation. His wolf wanted to run.

She was incredulous. "Like, at all?"

He nodded. "At all."

"Why?"

"I just can't." He had to keep himself from growling.

"That's not an explanation," she accused as she yanked on her own shirt.

He didn't look at her. "I know." He put on his own clothes.

"Tell me what's going on, Sammy. We've been planning this for years. Literally years. You started working when you were just a kid just so you could buy us a truck to take the trip in. I know you did. It's not just me. You wanted this too. Two months ago you were finding new places you wanted to explore, and now you can't go, and you won't say why."

"I'm sorry." He meant it with everything he was, but he didn't have anything else to tell her. "I have to go."

"No!" She grabbed his arm as he turned to the window. "Talk to me! This is killing me. What's going on? Are you coming with me to Seattle, even?"

He looked at the forest, the place where his wolf wanted to flee, unable to tell her the truth or a suitable lie. The silence stretched on.

She held her breath until she realized he wasn't going to say anything. "You're not, are you? You're not coming with me."

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, still unable to face her. He smelled salt in the air, and he realized she was crying. He didn't think he could stand to look at her, because he was the cause of her grief. Again. And he had promised himself he would never hurt her. Never again.

"You're sorry? I don't accept that. Not until you tell me why! You got a scholarship, you've been working so hard for your whole life for this. You wanted to move to a big city, live in a dorm, go to parties. It's going to be so much fun. We're doing this together! We'll be together!"

"No, not now. I can't go with you."

He still couldn't look at her, but didn't need to do so to know that her face was turned down in a grimace as she tried to stifle a sob. "Sammy?"

"I have to stay here. I'm so sorry."

"Then are you..." She choked a little, and he wanted to tug her into his arms. But his wolf was agitated and frustrated, and he was afraid that if he moved, he'd do something stupid. He still didn't know his own strength. He could break one of her bones trying to hug her. But it didn't escape her notice that he wasn't touching her or even looking at her. "Are you breaking up with me?"

His head snapped around. He was absolutely horrified. "No. No! No! Never! I'd never... I don't want to break up, I want to get married! I gave you my grandma's ring because I want to marry you! That's never going to change."

"But that doesn't make sense. Is there... Is there... Is there someone else?" she whispered.

"Never! There's no one. Never has been and never will be. No one but you. I promise. I can't believe you would even think that." But he had to admit that it would have been a much more reasonable explanation than the truth. "I just can't come. I promise that it's not to stay here with someone else."

She folded her arms together and shrank into herself, trying to stem the flow of years down her cheeks. "Then why won't you talk to me? Why are you telling me you can't come with me? You're not acting like you want to be with me, not at all!"

"Don't you think I want to?" he pleaded. "You're everything to me, LeeLee. Everything!"

"Then why won't you tell me what's going on?" she cried. "What's going on, Sammy?"

"Don't you think I want to tell you everything? You're not just my girlfriend, my fiancée, you're my best friend. Don't you know I wish I could tell you everything?"

She dropped to her knees in front of him, placing her hands on his thighs as he sat on the edge of her bed. Her eyes were wide and terrified. "Are you in trouble? Is it your dad? Is someone threatening you?"

He dropped his face into his hands. "No, no. Nothing like that." As if someone could hurt him now. As if his father would be a threat to him in this body. It was absurd. Although he would give anything to have a conventional problem, like drugs or gambling, an angry bookie or a dealer he owed money to. Anything but his reality.

"Then I don't believe you!" She pushed herself up abruptly and backed away from him, accusation in her eyes. "You're lying to me."

His temper flared. His wolf reacted defensively to her bitter tone. "I've never lied to you. Never!"

"Withholding the truth is still a lie. You have to tell me what's going on! There has to be some kind of explanation! Don't you understand? I love you! I want to help you! Since you disappeared, everything's been all wrong. I'm so glad you're back, so relieved, but it's all still off! You're off, you're not you. You're huge and angry and scary, you're not acting like yourself, and you're cancelling every plan we ever made."

"I don't want to! I don't want any of this!" He yelled back. He vaguely heard Harry and Sue murmuring about them from down the hall. They were debating whether to intervene. He had to get out of there before he said something he wasn't supposed to. "I have to get out." He shoved open the window. He felt himself shaking. He was barely hanging on by a thread. "I have to go."

Leah raced forward, tugging at his shoulders. "Sammy? Where are you going? Don't do this again!" She was terrified he would disappear forever.

He shook her off. "I'm sorry, Leah. I have to get out of here." He pushed himself onto the roof.

"Sammy? Sam! Don't! Come back!"

He dropped to the ground. He was so angry. Furious at the vampires who had chosen this place, of all the places in the world, furious at his father who had left him nothing but this curse, furious at himself for not being able to control himself better, for running away when she was begging him to stay. For breaking his LeeLee's heart.

"I can't stay here, Leah!" He meant to tell her he would be back, and then sprint into the woods where he could phase. But she was right on his heels.

"Sam! Sammy! Don't do this! Stay! Talk to me, please!" He heard a thud behind him. She had followed him off the roof and landed on the ground. She grabbed his arm.

"Let go!" He yanked his arm free and began to stalk away.

But she wouldn't let him go, not like this. Not knowing if he would walk into the woods and never again emerge. "No! I'm not letting you go! I love you, and I know you're scared of something. Whatever it is, we can get through it. But we have to do it together! I can help you!"

He paused at the edge of the wood. "There's nothing you can do for me, Leah. You can't fix this."

She was in tears again. She was begging him. "You have to let me try! Please, Sammy, please! Tell me what's going on! I love you and I'm here for you. Nothing could ever make me stop loving you. No matter what it is, I love you. Please!"

His voice broke. "I do too, LeeLee. You have no idea how much. But I have to go."

Then her terror shifted into rage. "Then you're a liar! You don't love me, you never have, and you definitely don't now!"

He turned to her, trembling where he stood. "Don't say that!"

"I don't believe you!" she yelled as she wiped tears from her cheeks. "I don't believe anything you're saying, because nothing you've said in weeks makes any sense!" She stalked toward him. "You don't love me! You've never said you love me, Sammy. Not once, not even when you asked me to marry you. I thought you did anyway, because of the things you did and the way you acted, but now you're not saying it, and you're damn well not acting like you love me. So don't say you do, or you're a liar!"

Sam was overwhelmed. His grief, his guilt, his terror, and his rage were threatening to overwhelm him. He was at the end of his rope. "Don't say that," he growled. He took a step back.

She followed. She stuck a finger out, jabbing at his chest. "I'll say anything I want!" She was furious. He had never seen her nearly as angry as she was now. "If you loved me, you would tell me what was going on! But instead you're just running away again!"

"Get back, Leah," he warned. He could feel sweat beading on his forehead. A fire was raging in his sinews. He took another step back.

She kept following. "No! I want an explanation! You haven't told me anything! Don't you get it? I love you, and whatever it is, I'll still love you! You know that, because you've known me forever. You know how I feel about you, don't you?"

He was becoming frantic. "Of course, and you have to believe me when I say I do too!"

Now her voice was a true scream. "No, you don't! You're a liar! Because if you really loved me, you'd say so, you'd actually say so, and you'd tell me what the fuck is going on!" She grabbed his arms, and his defensive, crazed wolf exploded out of his body.

It only took a split second for Sam to destroy his own world. His love, his life, his sweetest girl. He heard her screaming and his own howling, and he felt terror vibrating in the air. And then he smelled iron.

He looked down at her, collapsed on the ground and scrambling away from him. Three deep gashes marred her lovely cheek, and her skin was streaked with blood. Oh god. Oh no. He pushed himself away from her, and in so doing, his own paws came into his field of vision. The left was wet and dripping with crimson drops. Oh fuck. What did he do? What was he supposed to do now?

She was screaming in pain, sobbing her grief and fear, shoving herself back and out of his reach. He had to help her. He had to get her to a hospital. He couldn't turn back time like he so desperately wanted to, but he could carry her to Harry's car and drive her to get help, and then he could leave and end his miserable life. He stepped forward, causing her to cringe in fright, before he realized he was still in his wolf form. He struggled to shrink his body back down, to pull himself together again, to change his deadly claws into gentle fingers, to shift his fierce fangs back into a human mouth with which to beg her forgiveness.

She tried to say his name, but the movement caused a rictus of pain to shoot through her, and out came a strangled wail instead. He couldn't do it. He was too horrified, frightened, and angry with himself to calm enough to find his human form. He hung his head and tucked his tail between his legs and nudged at her belly with his nose. She gasped in fear and wriggled back until she realized he was trying to comfort her, and she went still.

Then Sam saw a metallic flash out of the corner of his eye. He looked up into the barrel of Harry's rifle. It was trembling, and Sue was glaring at him from the other end with righteous wrath. He froze. "Get the fuck away from my daughter!" she hissed. She cocked the rifle.

Harry came tearing out of the house. "Don't! Sue! Stop!"

"What are you talking about? This monstrous thing is about to kill Leah!"

Leah was struggling to speak. "No, no, no."

"Sam!" Harry held his hands out, whether at Sue or at him, he wasn't sure. "Back away! Back away from Leah! Move, Sam!"

"What the hell are you talking about, Harry? Sam's gone! I don't see him anywhere!"

"Put the gun down, Sue! Put it down!"

"You're out of your mind!" She lifted the gun so that it pointed right between his eyes.

"Sam!" Harry yelled. "Back up! Back away! Get away from Leah! Sue, put the damn gun down now! Someone's going to get killed!"

"You're not making any sense! If I don't shoot, this thing's gonna get Leah, or me, or all of us! Sam's probably lying out there hurt. Sam? Sam!"

Harry bellowed, "But that thing is Sam! The wolf is Sam! It was an accident!"

Something about Harry's tone unlocked Sam's limbs. He retreated several yards back, and Sue lowered the barrel a few inches. "What are you talking about?" Sue glanced at Harry, who rushed forward to pick up his daughter.

"You heard me. The wolf is Sam, and this was an accident! Who cares, anyway? He's backing up, see? Who cares about Sam, we have to take care of Leah!"

"Oh my god, Leah, baby, it's going to be okay." Sue dropped the gun and swiped up a torn piece of Sam's shirt that was lying on the ground. She pressed it to the side of her daughter's face and neck. "Honey, your father is going to carry you to the car. Can you hold pressure on this while I get more gauze?" Leah nodded weakly and did as she was told, so Harry raced her around to the front of the house while Sue ran in for her first aid kit. She nearly collided with Seth, who was gaping at the scene.

The Clearwater family was gone within a minute, and Sam was left in the backyard directly beneath the tree house where he and Leah had made so many memories. He looked up at it and wondered if he could strangle himself with the rope ladder somehow.

But before he did anything of the sort, he had to make sure Leah was going to be okay. He had to see what he had done with his own eyes, and then he would decide what his punishment would be. He set off after the car.

Keeping pace was easy; his top speed exceeded the motor's even though Harry was speeding like a maniac. But his agility was hampered by his panic as he heard the overlapping voices of Sue and Harry shouting at each other while Leah whimpered in pain. Sue was demanding an explanation as she cradled her daughter, while Harry's only concern was getting Leah to the hospital. Their argument was halted by a coughing fit from Leah. Sam glanced through the trees only to see the gruesome sight of a spray of Leah's blood across the window. She was choking on the blood running into her mouth from her mangled cheek.

Sam wanted to die. What had he done? She was alive for now, yes, but how much blood was she losing? Had he slashed her throat as well as his face? He didn't know. All he remembered was the sight of her blood, but he couldn't tell where it was all coming from. There was so much. How much could she lose before she died? She couldn't die. She just couldn't. She would take all the light in the world with her if she left it. If she left him behind.

After what felt like an eternity, they finally reached the parking lot of Forks Hospital. Sam didn't hesitate; he ran toward them. He had forgotten that he wasn't in his human body. Sue screamed when she saw him, Seth went pale, and Harry yelled at him to get back into the woods and calm down as he pulled in front of the ER.

Sam backed away slightly and watched Harry gather up his daughter. Shit. Leah wasn't moving. She had stopped coughing. She had stopped crying. She had stopped whimpering. Sam made the mistake of looking in the back seat of the car. It was covered in blood. He thought he might faint. Then a door opened and closed, and he realized he was in plain sight. He would get himself shot by animal control at this rate.

He bounded back into the cover of the forest while Harry hefted his now-limp daughter in his arms and sprinted through the ER doors screaming for help.

There was no way for Sam to follow. The doors closed.

X-x-x-x-X

A/N: Thanks again to Babs81410, who is not responsible for the nasty cliffhanger.