"A punishment to some, to some a gift, and to many a favor."

Lucius Annaeus Seneca

The dark sky was bright with stars as the pack shoved itself into an empty clearing half a mile behind my cabin. Jacob stood at my side, looking unhappy but determined. "Dad said we've put it off long enough," he explained for the pack's benefit, tugging off his shirt. Turning back, Jacob's eyes were grave. "I know you said it would help, but I don't understand it. I don't think any of us do."

"I let our bond strain." My words were muffled by the cotton of my shirt as I peeled it away. "Before the fire, I let us go too long without contact. The Ateara journal explains in detail how contact was crucial, if only in proximity. Touch isn't necessary until the bond has been...accepted by the Imprint. It means she hasn't denied the imprint, that she's open, if only subconsciously, to the idea." That fact was all that was keeping me together, most days. "But she also hasn't labeled what she wants from me; friend, brother, lover." I nearly choked on my own words, sour as they were in my mouth. "When I let us go too long apart, it affected her." It affected us both, and they knew that. No point in bringing it up again. "Whatever was going on in her head when she decided to break into the Hallow house, she wasn't thinking right and it was partially my fault. I let her down, and on more then that occasion. I've let her hurt, in hopes to help her heal. No matter my intentions, I've been cruel, petty and vindictive."

"But she is better," Quil offered, in support obvious. "We've all seen it. She seems...calm now, at peace. Maybe just...less angry. So...why punish you?"

"Because I'm asking," I replied quietly.

Grim, Jacob nodded, barking out orders for the others to fall into formation. I could have no say in this; it was up to my second. It was a power he did not want and it was written in every tight line of his body. It would only make it harder, on both of us, but I wouldn't say as much. This was difficult for my pack as it was.

"We're doing this as humans," he bit out, shaking his fists. "It's still the pack, but as wolves we could do too much damage and with a possible vampire lurking about, we can't afford it."

"Don't go easy on me," I ordered, feeling the tenor of my voice shiver in the air. It earned me a glare from Jacob, from the entire pack, but I deserved it. Seeing Red hurt, that last lingering look she'd given me before bolting, it haunted me. I needed this, deserved it, and the antsy feeling dancing across my skin wouldn't settle until it was done.

As was his right as my Second, Jacob threw the first punch. I could taste the vindication in his fist just as much as I could taste the blood in my mouth. He had the most right to be angry; he loved Red before I even knew her name. The punch jolted me, washing the world in electric red the way only fury could. It was instinctual; I wanted to fight back. A sharp jab to my left kidney sent me to my knees, and I whipped my head around to see Paul's grim face. He licked his lips, steeling himself for the possibility of rebutting attack, but it didn't come.

Embry stepped forward, and I couldn't look him in the eye. He understood my desire for this in a clinical way, closer than anyone else would come. He was just so goddamn sympathetic, and sympathy wasn't what I wanted. An upper cut to my jaw sent me sprawling back, but I sprang back into a crouch on reflex.

It began.

Fists and feet flew. I was bitten, I was clawed; we were animals in the skin of men, no different than any other day. Blood flowed where skin split, painting my limbs and middle. I was wet with it, feet slipping in the blood and mud beneath them. My body ached, but my mind was on fire. This was feral. This was exactly what I had needed.

Red; what had I done? All of it was a mess. But she'd been so needy, kissing me with all that vengeful passion. I needed too, but I just needed her. I couldn't say no when she was there, pushing me as hard as I had ever pushed her. I needed her. I needed so much but most my needs went unmet, so when introduced to the most primal, I couldn't turn away. Ask me not to love her like I wanted and I wouldn't, not until she wanted it. I fought against telling her, fought to keep from comforting her, fought the urge to crush her to me and just hold her when she was screaming to keep from tears. But ask me not to kiss her, with her mouth crushed onto mine, and you were asking to much. She'd punished me as surely as any blow by walking out of my kitchen, alone with nothing but her panties on my floor. God. Taha Aki. What the hell was I going to do?

Blood pounded in my ears, leaving them ringing. I was wrenched back to reality by a swift kick to the stomach, knocking all the wind from my chest. I was gasping, panting, choking on blood. My throat was raw from growling, raw from crying out. This wasn't over yet, not when I could still think.

I was held down by the combined muscle of both Jared and Quil. I fought, kicking and twisting but I was one man against five and I'd never cry uncle. I felt two ribs break as I was kicked, pain searing up through my chest. It hurt like a bitch, but the pain bled away the deeper ache of self-betrayal. Arching forward for escape, I was caught short by Quil, as he twisted my arm back, tearing tendons and muscles in my shoulder. It hurt, and I cried out, snarling growls rolling out of me. We were all snarling and snapping, the inhuman growls filling the little field. Bones were broken and blood was shed; fingers, arms, ribs, not even all my own. Embry cracked my jaw, Paul broke my arm, Jared smashed my knee cap, and Jacob hit me so hard I puked blood; beneath the pain, I could feel the absolution. This was old world meeting new, a heady combination of animal and man; this was the savage justice of wolves I'd asked for.

"Enough!" Jacob barked, as I slipped in my own blood, crashing to my knees. "Jesus Christ, it's enough. It's enough. Sam?"

I nodded, eyes clenched shut in sheer and utter pain. I hadn't hurt this bad since before I'd phased, and even that didn't compare. Prying my eye's open, I caught sight of a torn-looking Jacob, pulling Embry back from me. "We..." Jacob swallowed around his own bruised throat; they hadn't gone without some injury. "We can't help him."

"Jake!" Quil sounded horrified. "We...we have to help him. We can't leave him here."

Shuddering, Jake's eyes slid to me. "We can't. If we help him now, we'll have to do it again. Sam?"

Nodding again, slowly, I replied. "Go on, I'm okay. I'll be okay." I would be okay, but already I knew I wasn't healing as fast as usual. This kind of punishment was as ancient and magical imprinting was: it would have its own rules. I was meant to suffer but they didn't need to know that, yet. "Seriously, I'll be okay. Just go, please."

"Dude," Paul said slowly, leaning over me. Jared was at his side, holding him back from actually touching me. "You puked up a molar."

"I'm pretty sure I swallowed it when Embry upper-cutted me," I replied without thinking. Pain seemed to have short-circuited the path between my brain and mouth. Embry made a choking noise, gagging on his own bile. "Just...go. Please...you shouldn't have to see me like this."

"We did this to you," Embry protested tightly. "Jesus Christ, what did we do?"

Swallowing hard again, Jake answered, eyes glued to mine. "He did it to himself. Sam..."

"You did the right thing Jake," I said between my bloody teeth. I wasn't in the best of minds to be placating the baby-alpha. "Now...go."

They did, slow and steady, every single one of them lingering in the tree lines as I forced myself up. My left leg wobbled, refusing my weight, and my right wasn't happy to compensate. Combined with the pain was the strangest urge to phase and lick my wounds. Denying both the urge and the pain, I sucked in a tight breath, agony tearing through my breath. My broken arm was hanging in the socket, and I used the other to force it back in, dog-like whines curling up out of my mouth. This was for her, and I would endure it without complaint.

The half a mile from the clearing to my little cabin never felt so long. Every step stretched a mile as they trailed behind me dutifully. Rain fell, painting clean lines through the half dried blood flaking on my skin. My leg ached, dragging half limp as I fought to keep pressure off it, using branches and trees to lean on. The walk home felt as much a punishment as any of the punches.

I slipped through the front door of the cabin, careful and quiet. Momma wasn't home, nor were the girls. My bed was calling me, but not nearly as strong as the little patch of earth I'd called my own in the woods behind Reds house. My mind screamed to carry on, but my body wouldn't. I let myself shatter, tumbling headlong into my cold bed. Relief and agony mixed like oil and water; separate and swirling.

"Sam," Embry said, his tone broken and hushed. "Come on Sam, you gotta get cleaned up. You gotta get up-"

"Embry don't," Jacob pleaded. "You can't touch him, okay? I'm not being cruel...it's hard to explain. Dad had the Elders explain it all to me; if you help him...it'll take away the...the..."

"Absolution," I mumbled into my pillow, spraying blood across the white cotton. I really was very bad off. "Embry, it's okay."

"It's not okay," Embry hissed back, and it took both Paul and Jacob to pull him back. "You can't keep doing this, Sam. I know that you're doing it for her, that your giving her a choice but you need...you need too. This is tearing you apart."

"Don't tell her," I growled, but it was wet and hacking. "Won't ever...can't make her..." I couldn't form the words I needed to say. I wouldn't put that on her; that mind-eating guilt. If she didn't want me, I'd accept that. If that was all I could ever give her, I would give it to her with my whole being. They didn't understand why she and I fought. Red was passion personified, she needed the fight, she thrived on it. But so much of her passion was wasted in her hate. Her fire was ...it was beauty and she burned. She could do so much, I knew it...her fire was beauty...beauty burning...

Not even my thoughts made sense anymore. The pain, it painted the edges of my vision black, cracking the picture between my slitted eyelids into tiny pieces.

"I'm not leaving him," I heard Embry growl through an audible haze of red. It always came back to red. My Red.

Jacob huffed; I'd know that huff even with my eyes closed. "Fine, just...don't touch him Embry. Don't make us do this again."

"...never again."

~000~

"Embry?" I couldn't see him but I could smell him. "What..."

"Shhh. Take it easy, Sam. It's been a day, if you were wondering," he said softly, and even though he spoke quietly, it grated. "I spoke with your mom, explained the best I could. She won't come, but...well, she wants to, but she won't. You're still pretty banged up."

"I feel better," I said through a breath. I felt like shit, but on a lesser level. My knee cap had already began fusing back from where it had shattered, and my broken arm was mostly healed, though the tendons still burned where they'd been torn. It wouldn't be a short recovery, but things were progressing none the less.

"Most the bruising is gone, except around your jaw," he explained further, the wince evident in his voice. "You're still covered in blood though."

"Red's not here," I groaned, lifting my head up off the pillow to look at Embry's worried face. He was propped up against the closet door, legs outstretched before him.

"Was she suppose to be?" He asked, with a wrinkled brow. "She didn't say-"

"No I mean on the Rez," I explained. "She's not on the Rez. Usually I can feel her. She didn't come today, did she?"

He swallowed, transferring his gaze to the glass of water on my night stand. "No, she didn't." He sighed, shaking his head. "What happened," Embry asked eventually. "Between the two of you, I mean? It isn't like we haven't noticed."

I turned my head to look at him, but made no effort to really see him. I didn't really want to see the expression on his face; the accusation, the curiosity. "You think I should tell her."

Embry snorted. "Yeah, sometimes I do," he said simply. "But that's a cop out to whatever fight you two are in, now. Before? Who can say. The easy path is never really as easy as they say; if it was, the boring, slow path would be pointless. You might not have been right in not telling her sooner, but now? You tell her now, after she's finally seemed to...come to terms with whatever she was fighting? She'll rebel even more I think. I don't get it, you two were...better. She seemed better. I thought it was the time apart."

"It did something alright," I replied, with a tired snort.

He rolled his head on his shoulders, working out the obvious kinks. "Did something happen? We've all noticed you haven't been phasing with us lately."

"Yes, but I don't care to elaborate," I replied, eyes narrowing at him. He knew something. "It doesn't matter; she said so herself."

"You're forgetting that this is destiny," Embry said, cutting into my brooding. "Yeah, yeah, who asked to get hit by destiny? None of us. Doesn't make it any less true. You want to give her a choice, I get that, and it's awesome of you. But in the end, you're still made for her. All this? It's just...a matter of time. You've always been a patient man Sam, don't stop now."

"How can you be sure? What if all this is just a waste of time?" What if imprinting was just bullshit? What if it was all just one big mindfuck? What if the Earth was really flat? What if Vampires were really just misunderstood creatures who wanted to cuddle? I couldn't kid myself, not when it came to Red.

"Look," Embry said with a huff, nudging me with a shoulder. "I'm not gonna fuck around here; not gonna start lying to you now. I was kind of waiting for you to come to me though. She did, you know. Bella came to me the day after you two had sex."

I felt my stomach lodge itself into my throat, and couldn't speak. She'd seemed so damn horrified I was sure she'd be taking our poorly planned moment of what-the-fuckery to the grave. I had kept it a secret for her sake, because she seemed to want it that way.

"She asked me to take her to the clinic up in Port Angeles. Didn't think her truck would make it, and she didn't have anyone else to ask. Fuck Sam, you bang her on the kitchen counter and you couldn't even wrap it first? You're lucky she's a smart girl. Most the girls on the Rez wouldn't have even thought of Plan B, or whatever shit it was. You could have knocked her up."

"We weren't thinking," I murmured in reply. I could have knocked her up and I had thought there weren't anymore ways to make her hate me. "We've been...I think it's the imprint, you know? I mean, I take some responsibility, of course. I'm not looking for a scapegoat. I normally have more control, but it was like...once we started, when she kissed me, we couldn't stop."

"Don't you think that's a good sign that you should stop fighting? It's been nearly two months." It sounded reasonable, when put like that, but in truth, we'd spend half those to months apart.

"I'm not fighting! And it's not that easy," I argued, scowling.

"Why the hell not?" Embry asked, pushing up from his spot on the floor. "You know what you do when you're wrong Sam? You apologize."

"How?" I asked, pushing myself up. I sat at the edge of the bed, testing my limbs. Everything still ached, and I still had the urge to throw up. The worst of it was my shoulder, where the muscle had ripped. I'd live though, to endeavor on without a clue, apparently.

Apologize. And here I was worried about atonement. Embry was right; what was atonement without apology? What was the point in forgiving yourself if the person who really mattered hadn't even been given the chance?

"You're sounding like the biggest douche-bag ever, right now. Sam, you're a good guy, you're a great guy. I don't know what it is about Red, but for all the good she done you, sometimes she brings out the asshole in you, I swear. Apologizing is easy, you open your mouth and say I'm sorry," Pushing himself to a stand, Embry nodded sharply. "Go get washed up and dressed. I'll drive you."