A/N: Wanted to get Chapter 2 up before the week begins; it's a little shorter than the first chapter but I hope you like it and leave me some feedback. Thank you for my 9 reviews so far; it means a lot to me and I love you guys. Glad you're enjoying so far!

JUNE 2006

Graduation seemed like such a mundane waste of time, when the threat of the Redhead had them on-edge all the time. The irony was that, less than two weeks after Graduation- a coming-of-age milestone that had most of his classmates eager to live it up- he might very well be dead.

The newborn leeches were coming in multitudes; they'd been training relentlessly for five days with the very real notion that their little alliance with the Cullens might end in a bloodbath.

Not that Paul was overly concerned. Compared to his brothers, in fact, Paul's attitude toward a potentially gorey demise was fairly lackadaisical.

His reasoning was simple.

One: out of everyone, he had no family to mourn him if something happened. His mom hadn't reached out in years. His dad spent most days actively avoiding him. When their paths did cross, Randy spent much of their limited interaction eyeing him with a mingled glare of fear, distrust and anger. The fucker's drinking was worse than ever, and he hadn't held down a job in eighteen months. He didn't come to Graduation. He suspected his dad would be relieved if he didn't come home.

Nah, Paul's only family was the Pack. And if he died doing his duty, then it all meant something.

Two: he knew he could take down a good handful of the parasites before he surrendered to death. Even if he was just a hulking mass of flesh and viscera, seconds away from death, Paul was confident that he'd use the last reservoirs of life left in him to annihilate. Paul had been raging for years; that, too, might as well have purpose in the end.

Three: He was a badass and wouldn't die because while Vamps were bad- they had nothin' on the Pack.

So what was there to be afraid of?

Paul left for battle that morning with calm ruthlessness settled over him like armor.

Then it all happened. Tunnel-vision of destruction, of channeling rage into a body count. The strong, body-builder Cullen even saved him from an almost-close-call...and Paul had to admit, seething with the thrill of the fight, that it was pretty incredible to watch their species in action. He'd always been too busy hunting them to appreciate it….but with a few as allies, he realized: their monstrosity was just as fine-tuned as his own.

The victory was assured.

Destruction was the order of the day.

All was to be well, after all. Paul's macabre musings of the past six days was were moot-

Then the irony- the shitty, fucking irony- was that it was Jacob who got hurt, who had the closest call. Right at the goddamn end, too, when the action was already over. An after-thought newborn, a straggler.

Paul wasn't particularly close with Jacob, due to his being an obnoxious perfect golden boy who had terrible taste in women, but Jacob was Pack. And he was a good kid, who meant something to the community, who- in another life- might've been the Alpha, and Chief. He had a family- a real family. A real father, and sisters.

Rachel Black's face flitted across his mind.

Jacob had so much going for him. It just wasn't right.

Sam, Quil, and Jared knocked the straggler lose, wrestling with it until finally Sam delivered the death blow with a crunch.

The Pack link urged Jacob to phase back; the Vamp Doc couldn't help if the body wasn't human. He did, in such a stutteringly painful transformation that even Sam flinched from the reverberating pain.

The Cullens bent over Jake as he gasped out silent screams. His right side was pulverized.

"Carlisle can help," Edward Cullen said, while Bella Swan blubbered uselessly at his side. Paul would've usually been pissed at the sight of her pointless display, but...watching Jacob writhe on the grass, Paul's own eyes felt wet and his throat tight. A bone-deep knowledge settled through him- one that whispered: brother.

This kind of pain just wasn't fair. Not even for Jacob Black.

Especially not for Jacob Black.

Paul, Sam, Embry and Quil carried him back to Billy's, broken and dazed from pain, while Leah, Jared and Seth ran guard in their wolf forms alongside. They made a chorus of howls; back on the Rez, Brady and Collin were surely already getting a clear view of what had transpired.

Paul found himself murmuring to Jacob throughout the seemingly endless trek home- encouragement, reassurances. He wasn't very good at them, admittedly, because he had so little experience with such things...but he felt compelled to try. "You'll be okay. We got you, man."

Already the bones had started to heal, but all wrong- mangled and jutting into lung, causing Jake to gasp like he was being stabbed. His 6'9 frame began to jolt in short bursts that had each of them shifting their grasp, trying to keep steady in their course.

Emily was waiting for them outside of the Black residence, her eyebrows pitched; she likely felt Sam's unease through their shared Imprint bond. When she took in the sight of them, her hand went to her mouth in shock. Billy emerged next, his voice rising to a tone Paul had never heard before, as he called out Jake's name over and over.

"You're home, man. Your dad's here." Paul swallowed, trying to think of what he'd want to hear. "We're all home. You'll be okay."

It felt like hours until the Vamp Doc showed up, but it was only twenty-five minutes. They all stood aside as he approached, face a mask of serenity and clutching a briefcase. Inside, he spoke with Billy at Jake's bedside, before gently advising Billy to give him some distance.

Sam insisted on staying behind, and the rest of them held vigil in the yard as the screams began. Carlisle, breaking each bone anew, set them painfully but properly. He was muttering so quietly that even the Pack's superior instincts couldn't quite perceive the words- not over the screams.

Paul gritted his teeth. Billy looked sick, his gaze swimming with tears as he clutched Emily's hand. Paul couldn't look at him too long without his chest aching, so instead he stared hard at the shutters of the Black house, trying to distract himself.

The paint was chipping on the wood.

When Carlisle was done and gone, and Jake was silent thanks to the temporary relief of morphine, Sam wearily called the pack around. He leaned against the porch rail. Emily hovered near him, instinctive of the Imprint, as he expelled a heavy sigh. "I know you're all exhausted. You did well today. But Jake needs us. We can't leave him, or Billy, here alone."

Without much thought, Paul found himself saying, "I'll do the first shift." He couldn't get the image of Jake's tortured expression out of his mind.

"Good, thanks. You'll be on until tomorrow morning. Quil, can you get over here by ten?"

"Sure thing, Sam."

And so they all named and traded shifts, to ensure that Jacob wouldn't be alone in his suffering. When every block of time was covered for the next seventy-two hours, Sam put his arm around Emily and led her to her grey sedan, parked at the end of the drive. Collin and Brady took off in their phased forms, while Leah and Seth departed on foot. Seth tentatively hooked a comforting arm around her as they slipped around the corner. Leah didn't shake it off.

Embry and Quil lingered near the porch, watching Jacob's bedroom window with anxious faces.

"I'm surprised you volunteered so quickly," Jared said, putting a hand on Paul's shoulder.

He shrugged. "I don't know. Better than staying at my place, even if Jacob spends all night screaming. I'd take him screaming any day over Randy bitching at me."

The corner of Jared's mouth quirked, and Paul knew he wouldn't press the subject further. At some point, Jared had kind of become his best friend...and it was nice, knowing that someone understood him well enough to let well-enough alone.

He gave Jared a nod, then addressed Jake's best buddies. "Hey guys. You can head home. I got it from here."

"We'll stay, just a while." Embry had his forearms resting against his knees, back against the porch siding. "Wanna be sure...you know. That everything'll be alright. We don't mind keeping an eye on the outside for a bit."

Paul nodded. Jake's buddies were at their post.

Inside, Billy couldn't be deterred from his vigil. Paul, feeling useless, did return with a fresh glass of water for Jake's bedside table and a ziplock baggie full of beef jerky for Billy, just in case…..but then decided it was best to leave father with son.

Never in a million years could he picture Randy doing such a thing for him.

Paul closed the door to Jake's bedroom quietly, taking stock of his surroundings. The wood-paneled walls of the hallway were home to dozens of photographs. There weren't photos in Paul's house. He was pretty sure there was a baby picture somewhere in his manila folder full of important records, from his mom. Birth certificate, vaccination records, a picture of him as a toddler. But no pictures, proudly displayed on the wall like a shrine to familial joy. Curiosity got the better of him: he stepped close to examine them.

Billy Black, young and austere-looking, had his arms around a pretty woman in a faded but nicely-framed photo. Their mom, Sarah. She had the same mouth as Jacob, Rebecca and Rachel.

Paul's attention quickly shot across the wall, a new objective ripping to the front of his brain: Rachel Black. He didn't know why, but the need to see her face again gripped him.

A childhood photo of the twins, about six or seven, wearing floral dresses and large floppy hats. Taken in some mall photography studio, probably.

A family picture, most likely taken just before Sarah's death, on Christmas. Jacob wore a headband with felt reindeer ears that matched the one on his mom's head.

Sad. He looked away, past a few other photos of Jacob...

Paul's breath left him in a whoosh, though he wouldn't be able to say exactly why. He practically stumbled over his own feet to get closer.

A wedding photo.

His throat felt tight again, his eyes roaming over the faces in the picture.

The Bride was- oh, thank Christ. Rebecca.

Why do you care? His rational mind asked, but he ignored it.

Rachel, dressed in a light green bridesmaid dress, stood at her side in the picture. Palm trees were visible in the background. He could tell the difference between the twins, clear as day, after he focused on the details- Rachel's chin was wider than Rebecca's, and her ears stuck out more. He couldn't drag his eyes away. Her perfect skin... her athletic, straight figure- even the tease of cleavage that the dress gave her. Her mouth was glossed; he swallowed at the sight. She looked really pretty, with her hair swept up.

He heard that Rebecca got married within a few months of graduating, to some Hawaiian guy or something. He didn't pay much attention at the time. One sister went off to college, the other marched down the aisle.

Oh? Another photo, just above the wedding photo. More recent, with dates from last November printed in yellow at the bottom of the picture. His eyes focused on their faces. This one-

Shit. Paul felt his skin grow taut, his breath stuttering a bit in his chest.

Rebecca was in the middle, in this photo. She wore a t-shirt with KONA stamped across it. A guy- must be the husband- was on her right. But on her sister's left was Rachel...Rachel.

She'd gotten bangs. He'd never seen her with bangs before but it definitely suited her. A pair of sunglasses was on-top of her head, and she wore the same white KONA t-shirt as Rebecca with denim shorts. In her hand, she held a touristy coconut drink, and was grinning confidently as if saluting the camera.

He remembered when she'd smiled at him that one time- the full power of her smile was something he still thought about sometimes. It had taken him off-guard, then. It had been the only time she'd ever smiled at him. Paul found himself shifting uncomfortably. It was just as powerful in this photo as it was that day when he was fourteen.

She looked...perfect, somehow. Her eyes were so clear, like she was staring at him through the lens.

Was she involved with someone? She probably was. A pretty girl off at college on a mega scholarship would be snatched up in a second. Was the photo snapped by a boyfriend?

Not that Paul would be interested, of course. He wasn't interested in her in that way. He didn't date smart girls; they usually had higher expectations than he was comfortable living up to, so he avoided them. And Rachel was definitely one of those girls, ready to set her standards high and watch with a keen eye as those around her tried to jump high enough to meet them.

Who had time for that? There were so many women out there; easier, more fun and fleeting options. He'd been with a few dozen already, and...yeah, definitely, those were the types of girl he liked best.

But some lucky guy at WSU probably did like smart girls with high standards, and saw Rachel across campus one day, and asked her out for dinner…

And yeah, if the prick was lucky enough to be worthy of her...Rachel Black would certainly be dating some college guy who was also smart enough not to let the chance of a lifetime slip away from him.

With a clenched jaw, Paul resolutely turned away from the photo and made his way to the kitchen, determined to make a sandwich and install himself on a comfy couch for a few hours while Jake was resting.

Over the course of the next few days, however, Paul couldn't help but pass by the beach photo whenever he was on-shift, planting himself in front of it for a few minutes at a time; he'd stare at it thoughtfully, sometimes so enthralled by it that he realized he wasn't blinking.

The fuck is your problem? He berated himself, tried to reason with himself...but there was no logic.

It was a compulsion, and nothing more.

No logic whatsoever. No deeper meaning whatsoever. Just his wolf, growling in admonishment everytime he huffed a cuss word and stormed away from the stupid photo.

JULY 7, 2006

"I'm not gonna make it home," Rebecca said, her voice rushed and nervous on the other end of the line.

Dangerously, Rachel asked, "What do you mean?"

"I'm not gonna make it back home," Rebecca stated, a little firmer this time. "I just don't have the money to fly right now. We literally just got back from the surf competition in South Carolina and unless I want to move into a box on the beach, I need to save money."

Rachel let her eyes close, pushing her suitcase closed. Its latches snapped into place. "I'm so irked."

"I know," Rebecca snapped back, irritable. "If you wanna pay for me, then-"

"I don't have any money. Obviously. I graduated two months ago and my internship doesn't pay well." Rachel took a deep breath. It was no use losing her temper- as always, she was good at tamping down any irritation with several long drags of oxygen through her nostrils. Calmly, she implored, "I need you. CJ and I are on a break, and I'm kinda dreading going home."

"Then stay in Pullman a bit longer."

"It'd be a waste. I'd have to extend my lease here after the 10th and then get a sub-leaser, which is just a can of worms I don't want to open. Six months of hoping some rando doesn't run out on my lease and leave me liable? No, thank you. Just have to bite the bullet and go home. Luckily my internship isn't up until end of August, and they don't care if I work from home, so at least I'll have a little money coming in for awhile."

"No luck on real jobs?"

"Not so far." Rachel was working in software development, and getting some decent real-time experience in UI/UX design. Admittedly, the fact that she graduated top of her class, and still hadn't gotten a real offer from any employer, was a hurtful blow. Not that she was used to things just happening for her, but….well, she was. She was used to working fucking hard, and getting the results back as was her due. To have worked hard, to have even graduated ahead of schedule, only to have some paltry offers that paid less than her internship with no benefits...hell no. Rachel cleared her throat, trying not to get upset. "I cast the net pretty far. Hoping to work from home, but sure would be great if the Universe could just tell me where home is going to be."

"Sounds like it's gonna be La Push."

Rachel groaned. "Yeah, for a month maybe. Til something pops. I got a pretty good deal on a storage unit out in Forks so I'll just cram everything in there for a few weeks while I stay with Dad."

"If you're paying for something already, why not just get an apartment instead of cramming in with Jake and Dad? Or give Seattle a shot?" Rebecca asked.

"Um, if you can find me an apartment out there that costs as much as my storage unit, sure. Otherwise I'm not getting into another lease when Dad's offer is free." She found a storage unit for only $85 monthly. "At most I'll burn a couple hundred bucks for storage, then…"

"Off to Boston, or Charleston?"

"Nashville, Atlanta, Tucson, San Diego...hell, I'd take Milwaukee at this point. It doesn't matter. I just want to make some good money for all my effort."

"You will. Oh, dang. Someone's ringing the doorbell. I'll call you back? I want to hear about the latest with CJ."

Rachel expelled a sigh. "No, not tonight. I'll call you tomorrow as I drive."

"Love you!"

Rachel set her phone on the kitchen counter and turned around, giving her now-empty apartment a long, sad look. Everything that could be driven in her Honda Odyssey was crammed in tight, except for the suitcase at her feet, and the couch that some guy from Craig's List was coming to take in the morning for $75. She'd sold her mattress and bedframe, her computer desk, her dinette set...a few pieces of art and lamps that wouldn't make the journey home.

And just like that. Time to move on. College was over.

It was all over, and she wondered now why she rushed through.

Maybe to impress employers? But even then- it hadn't been worth it, clearly, because she had to move home anyway, empty-handed.

She thought of Lisa and Carly, her best friends at WSU. They were both coming back in the Fall, ready for senior year. Whereas Rachel...Rachel had put her nose to the grindstone and had bulldozed her way through.

It made her depressed. She'd rushed through with such fervor that she wondered sometimes if she'd actually savored it properly, the way she should've.

Still. No use for regret now.

Rachel cuddled up on the couch, pushing her bangs back with her forearm and staring morosely at the ceiling. Usually this time of night was when CJ would call...or come over.

Instead, they were taking a break. And why?

Because she'd rushed things. Because she was leaving, and CJ was staying, and he didn't know what to do with an eight-hour distance. And she didn't know how they'd mediate two different schedules...his, as a student, and hers, as a working professional.

"Oh, goddamnit." She expelled a long breath. Once again, she pushed too hard and made an issue out of nothing. She wasn't even a "working professional" yet and CJ was off for the summer, but did that stop Rachel Anne Black? Nope.

She didn't blame CJ. The week before, as they cuddled after sex, he'd ventured, "It's gonna be weird, not being together."

She nodded, mutely, and ran her fingers down his arm. His skin was so pale next to hers. Even if he sat in the sun, his skin would skip the tan phase and go right to blister-red. When they'd play tennis together, he'd have to wear SPF 90. He called it his "sun cream baptism."

She'd miss playing tennis with him. She'd miss a lot of things about him.

"I think we should reconsider the Breakup."

Her brows scrunched together, heart pattering. "What?"

"Not- like, I know I suck at long-distance. But maybe just a Break, for a month or so. Just to make things...easier."

"Easier? How? Changing the term of our status isn't going to change the distance."

"No, but we can still talk. Maybe even...I don't know, visit. If it works out."

"Feels messy already."

"I know but, I miss you already and you're still here."

After a long, thoughtful pause, Rachel said, "We already talked about it and you were the one who didn't want long-distance. So I don't really get what you're trying to say."

"I stand by the long-distance thing. It didn't work with my high school girlfriend, and I don't think it'll work with you, or anyone. But I don't want to end things, just out of the blue." His voice sounded a bit parched as he clarified, "It'll make the heartbreak worse."

She considered for awhile, then agreed, "Okay."

"We can consider it...phasing."

She chuckled, but it didn't feel funny, somehow. "Phasing?"

"Switching from….us, to friends. One phase to the next."

"Ah." She blinked back tears, and they made out for a bit after that.

And here she was, six days later, alone on her couch and letting herself cry. Because CJ's nightly phone calls were no longer reliable. He'd only called three times since their last evening together, and only one had been a "goodnight" call.

Rachel pushed her palms against her eyes. "Get it together," she instructed herself. She had to stop checking her phone, and had to get some sleep. CJ and her were definitely on a Break, and that just meant one step away from being broken-up. She was bound for La Push in the morning, and she'd have to move all of her stuff into the Forks Storage Solution unit by 2 PM, so staying up late having a pity-party wasn't going to do her any good.

Just as she breathed through the reality of her current situation, and a numb kind of comfort was starting to diffuse over her limbs...her phone buzzed.

Embarrassingly, Rachel shot up quick as lightning, hand scrambling for the phone on the floor. She hoped to see Christopher John Baker across her Nokia's screen-

DAD: See you tomorrow! Love you and drive safe, Rach!

Rachel swallowed back a wave of disappointment, feeling small and ungrateful. For all the complaining she did...ugh, why was she so ungrateful? Why did she treat La Push with such reluctance, even after all this time? Her dad didn't deserve this kind of avoidance...not after all he'd been through, and after all he'd done for her.

With a stomach in knots, she relaxed against the couch cushions again, staring at the text. Her cheeks felt tight from the drying tears.

Outgoing Text: Love you too Dad. Cya tomorrow!

Maybe going back home was just what she needed, after all.

Time to move on.

A/N: What are your thoughts? I apologize for any errors; it's super late and I'm mega tired- tried to proof it a bit but am so sleepy so hoping it suffices. Please let me know your thoughts or any ideas you'd like to see with this story!