Chapter Thirteen – Purpose

Title: Through the Window Came the Wind

Author : lifelesslyndsey

Disclaimer: It might not mah sandbox, but I'm building castles. But I'm not profiting from them.

Pairing: SamxBella

Rating: NC-17

Warning: language, and adult concepts in probably graphic citrusy detail.

Summary: He fought to do what was expected of him and she did the opposite. If love was less about finding that perfect someone, and more about finding that someone who makes you perfect, you never know who you might find. Love might bring out the best in us, but first, it brings out the worst.

A/N Spanked this one out myself, so all mistakes are mine. PM me if you see an GLARING ERRORS. Please.

A/N Did you all know I've been spelling Quileute wrong for this entire story. I have. Why didn't you tell me! I looka lika foo'.

"To forget one's purpose is the commonest form of stupidity."
Friedrich Nietzsche

"So...what's my punishment? What are you going to do with me?"

There was the Red I knew and loved. I'd have been disappointed if all it took was a fire to burn the fight right out of her. I admired that fight, when it was put to good use. Red was a force to be reckoned with, but her own fire was mostly wasted in her childish fight against herself.

I also highly doubted she'd meant any innuendo by her question, but my mind was able to find it in full technicolor. She drove me up the fucking wall, and constantly pissed me off; that had no effect on me wanting her. We'd spent to much time a part and the wolf was making it known in the most bases of ways. My body was screaming, inside and out and head to toe, to show her who the fucking boss was.

My body had obviously not gotten the memo that on that if any one was the boss on that particular front, it was her.

"That depends," I said at last, using what could have been a dramatic pause to shake the growl out of my voice. Three days had passed since the trial before she caved and came; I'd been stalking the forest behind her house at night to keep her from spazing out again and setting fire to something else. "What are you good at? What can you do to me," I swallowed, clearing my throat. "For me? For the community?"

She blinked, open mouthed and flushing. The kitchen fell silent, and I could see the storm brewing beneath her eyes. "I can clean."

It was my turn to stare, I suppose. I couldn't really believe that was all she was good at. I could hardly believe that was what all she believed she was good at. "You could, or..." I began, a more fitting punishment at the tip of my tongue when she interrupted

"Fine!" She threw up her hands, glaring at me. "Fuck knows your house needs it."

I might have stopped her, but for her parting comment. Instead, I toed open the cabinet door beneath the sink, revealing my cleaning supplies and left her too it, dropping down onto the couch and kicking up my feet. There was a game on; there was always a game on and for once I was going to watch it.

She slaved at it, I'd give her that; shirt-cuffs rolled to the elbow, as she scrubbed my floor. I had to admit, the intense expression pulling at her face looked good on her, and she looked more... content then I'd ever seen. Game quickly abandoned, from the corner of my eye I watched her and realized that maybe she just didn't know what to do with herself. I knew she had graduated, but she hadn't bothered with college. There were still months unaccounted for by my knowledge, but I knew enough to know that since the departure of the Vampires, she'd...shut down. Ceased to live, that much was clear. And when at last she dug her head out of the sand, she was living to fast and free for any one's liking.

Red was restless, I'd known that from the start. Restless with herself, just like her mother had been. I feared for a moment that she'd leave too, before I ever took my chance. But no, no she'd always feel closest to home on the Rez; she'd proven that by returning every time she left. It was the one part of the bond she had already subconsciously accepted.

Part of herself was here with me, and even if she left, she'd know. It should have been a comfort to her, but I couldn't tell her yet. Not with the way she was, all it would do is make her feel trapped. Trapped and useless.

But here and now, as she slaughtered dust-bunnies with single-minded determination of men going to war, I realized that she just needed something to do . Cleaning my kitchen might have been bullshit, but it gave her a purpose. I couldn't remember a time in my life I had been without purpose. I had been son to a mother who had no one else, part of a two member team. I had been and still was a big brother; a care-giver and provider. I was a wolf, a protector and a leader. I was many things; what was Little Red?

She was a daughter, a friend, and a mate, though the last one went unknown. She certainly was more then what she thought of herself. In the reflection of the living room mirror, I watched her sigh, pushing a sweaty tendril of hair of her face. Her expression was one I hadn't seen, at least in a while, and never directed at me. She looked thoughtful, but not angry; the layer of stubborn rebellion that seemed to be her armor was gone, replaced by a mop and the scent of Pine-Sol.

She needed to know she was needed, needed to know she had reason. Letting her continue, scrubbing away her worries, I sat back against the couch and considered all the things I'd learned from her expression alone.

I was half asleep when something wet slapped me in the chest. I snapped to awareness, every muscle in my body tensed to strike.

"I'm done," she said, indifferent to my tense posture. A damp washcloth was strewn across my chest, decidedly dirty and dripping down my front. "I'm going home now."

Blinking, I pushed myself up right, arching my back to hear each vertebrae pop and crack. "That's fine. Be back here on Friday at nine a.m."

"What?" She asked, turning on her heel to cock her head at me and glare. She looked tired, hair tied back in a frizzy bun and the scent of stale water clinging to her skin. "Uh, how about no?"

"Friday at nine, for the first of your punishments," I replied, holding back a grin at her impending anger. Her face flushed and her mouth fell open, as if on cue. For all that it usually annoyed me, she could be adorable when flustered.

"First? I cleaned your house! That's a personal reparation," she said, throwing her hands up. I chanced a glance around the kitchen and had to admit, she did good work. I wondered if she'd cleaned my room too. At least I was to old for a porno stash. "What more do you want from me! You said this was my punishment."

"No," I said, holding up a hand to silence her. "You suggested it, and I said you could. I had intended to tell you it wouldn't be necessary, but you cut me off. That's pretty rude, you know," I added, grinning. "Maybe instead of insulting me, you should have shut up and listened. For once."

For the first time since I had really met her, I watched the armor fall. Her shoulders fell, face taking on an expression I could only describe as betrayal. It hurt to see and I wanted to comfort her. Apologize. Tell her the truth.

It was torture.

"Why are you doing this to me?" She asked, eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks as she held her eyes closed. "Why are you always doing this to me?"

"I told the tribe I wouldn't go easy-"

"No," she said, cutting me off again. "I don't want you to go easy on my punishments. But...I mean...why are you always there, Sam? Every time I fucking turn around, you're there. I'm not being self-centered this time. You really are always there. You're there to help me, to hurt me, to save me, to fucking punish me. Why? Why are you always fucking there?"

I blinked at her, heart hammering in my chest. I was always there. Always. I'd always be there. "Are you forgetting where you are?" I dissembled, pulling myself up to proper height. "I'm exactly where I should be; here on the Rez. Maybe you should be asking yourself why you're always here."

I really wanted her to ask herself as much. Couldn't she feel it?

Her eyes opened, impossibly deep, but she looked away, gaze lingering on the door and her escape. "Friday at nine," she said at last, squaring her shoulders once more. "What are you going to make me do?"

"I'm not making you do anything," I replied, more sharply then intended. I never made her do anything; I gave her options and she only had to accept them. I asked her questions; the most I made her do was think. "You made your choices, and these are the consequences. Do you know the actual penalty for starting a forest fire, the arson not included if you would have been tried within an actual court? It's way worse then what I'm asking for."

"What are you asking for?" She replied, rephrasing her words to fit mine.

"Nothing I wouldn't ask from any other Quileute ; you should be honored to be treated as such." I grabbed her hoodie off the coat rack and tossed it to her. "The Reservation is based entirely on community. We rely on community support and unity. You're actions effected the community; it might have only been land you destroyed, but we have so little of it to spare that every inch of it counts. This land is our history. Therefore, your punishment will fit the crime. You took from our history, and in return you'll give back to the history in the making. The now."

"That's it?" She said, tugging her hoodie over her head. I stared greedily at the strip of stomach revealed as she held her hands over her head. I was a patient man yes, but I wasn't made of steel. "That's all your going to tell me?"

"That's all I'm going to tell you," I verified, pulling open the door. "And Red?" This next part would hurt me worse then it would hurt her, but there was a lesson to be learned here.

"What?" She glowered, key's already in hand.

"I don't think you should come back to the Rez until Friday," I said, staring past her, over her shoulder at the tree line. I couldn't meet her eyes, not for this. This hurt me too; I knew I'd be sleeping in the woods again, curled up in myself and listening to her whimper in her sleep. Was that really the only comfort we had?

In my peripherals, I watched her swallow. "But it's Sunday."

"Maybe it's time you thought about why you come here."