All characters from Twilight belong to Stephanie Meyer. I own nothing except my version of events.

Chapter 8

A whole month passes by without any more drama.

It's a relief, to be honest. I've continued to see Julian casually. Really we're just having fun. I've let him know I'm not looking for a relationship and he'd readily agreed. I mean what guy wouldn't? Steady sex without asking for commitment, it's a real dream.

Since that sex-a-thon between Jacob and I, we really haven't had much sex. It's happened only once more but we've both been pretty busy with other people.

I've also been staying away from La Push, concentrating on my schoolwork and going out with my friends from college. Actually Quil and Leah have been over to visit instead, sometimes staying over for the weekend to join our partying lifestyle. Needless to say, they absolutely loved it. Since I last got attacked, not a single trace of another vampire has appeared since then and because of that Sam has been more open to allowing the wolves to leave town for a visit.

Though secretly I think whatever Paul has been going through while trying to reject the imprint, has changed the dynamics of the pack as well. Especially when it came to Sam's perspective on this whole wolf business… at least that's what Quil and Leah have said. I think it's the first time everyone in the pack has admitted to how much they really resent being wolves and how stressful it has been for them to carry the burden of responsibility over the tribe. Technically everyone was already aware of this but it was something that was never openly spoken of. Paul had merely been the catalyst. Allowing the other wolves to express their true feelings on the matter… which I guess was a good thing. I think it mentally helped them cope with what they were by openly expressing their thoughts and concerns to each other. Even the elders were being supportive.

Paul refusing the imprint, however, had not been encouraged by most. But what surprised me the most was the fact that Elder Ateara had been wholly on Paul's side, going as far as searching through records of past generations to find anything to help. So far he hadn't found anything but it didn't stop him from searching.

From the pack I've heard very little over Paul's actual state. They seemed hesitant to talk about it, almost fearful. Not that I've taken the time to ask either. It wasn't really my business and I didn't feel comfortable getting any more involved after what transpired between us. Jacob was the only one who every once in a while would mention it. Gauging from his expressions and short words, I deduced Paul wasn't doing good.

I'd once been tempted to go see him. I'd gotten this sudden pang of guilt, jolting me out of bed and going as far as packing a bag for a weekend visit. I felt bad that I hadn't even bothered to call him after I'd been the one person he'd viewed, out of everyone, to give him solace. But it wasn't my place to go and from the little Jacob has said, his temper has been dangerously out of control. Apparently he's been refusing to shift into wolf form, feeling that if he did he'd run straight to Rachel. There were downsides to a shapeshifter denying their animal spirit from being released. And so there has been a war raging inside of him that he hasn't been able to control. But he adamantly refused to give the wolf an opportunity to release and seek out the one who calls to his soul.

Concerning Rachel, I actually have asked Jacob how she was doing. Surprisingly she was doing fine. The elder's theory was that because of the distance, and because Rachel didn't really know Paul, she couldn't feel the pull of the imprint as much as he did. Which was good, I guessed, especially if she really didn't want the imprint.

"Can I see your research on Intercultural communication?"

I blink back to the present, turning my head to Julian who's sitting on the floor leaning his back against the side of my bed with his laptop on his thighs.

"I focused more on cultural biases and prejudices."

"Send it to me."

"One sec." I go into the right file and attach it to the email before sending.

"Got it."

"Can we eat now? You've been pestering me over my research all morning and I'm officially over it." I complain, letting the annoyance I'm feeling leak out in my voice.

"Sorry. I just want it to be perfect." He says apologetically, turning his head toward me to throw me a rueful smile.

I roll my eyes, adorable smile or not, it wasn't going to help him this time. "I know. You're such a perfectionist, but I don't see you bugging Tara or Malcolm the same way you do me."

"That's because they're not here."

"Oh right… Then get out of my house."

He laughs loudly then, closing his laptop and climbing onto my bed. "I'll make it up to you." He promises, crawling until he's hovering over me.

"How?" Arching a brow at him in interest.

"You pick." He says, but I know what he's discreetly offering when his fingers tuck themselves into my waistband, grazing the tips of his nails along my skin.

I gasp his name, putting my hand over my mouth pretending to be offended.

"Don't make me say it." He grumbles.

I laugh at that.

His shyness caught me off guard sometimes. There was a sense of innocence to Julian that I weirdly found attractive. I guess maybe because it made him different from all the other guys from college who were always straightforward when it came to engaging in sex. Julian was just more discreetly sincere in his attraction to me, but he had this thing where he couldn't express his wants when it came to sex. Like he found it too vulgar to say aloud. Meanwhile I was actively working on breaking that habit right out of him.

"You want to do it but you're unwilling to say it… You know that's ridiculous, right?"

"I know. It's stupid." He admits shamefully.

I playfully tug on a strand of his dark hair, the corner of my lip twitching, keeping my smile restrained. "Okay. Let's say one day you get an actual girlfriend," I start off slow "And let's say she's not as assertive about having sex as I am..."

He slowly nods, cautious to where I'm going with this.

"She doesn't initiate sex and she's just as hesitant to talk about sex as you are."

Another nod.

"Does that mean you won't have sex, like at all?"

He can't fight the laugh that finally bubbles up. "I don't know if that's accurate or not, talking about this hypothetical girlfriend I have yet to meet, but just because I can't talk about it doesn't mean I won't do it."

"Julian," I start ready to drop the bomb, "we're taking a communications class and giving a presentation on the subject and you can't communicate you want to eat my pussy?"

He falls to my side, bursting into a hard laugh.

I laugh with him, unable to keep it inside.

"You're such a bitch sometimes." He wheezes out.

"Oh, so you can call me a bitch but you can't say pussy." I accuse, though I'm smiling widely at him.

He snorts again. "Stop it, you keep hitting me with hard facts and I can't defend myself."

"Then say it."

He shakes his head, trying to get himself together. He shifts back over me, his face above mine. He adorably bites his lip before releasing it to speak. "I want to eat your pussy, Bella." He manages to say with a straight face.

I pretend to swoon. "Why yes, Julian. I would love for you to eat my pussy."

Laughter aside, he does make it up to me and does a pretty good job at it too.

After he leaves to head back to his dorm I casually stroll into the living room.

Jacob stands behind the island, playfully blinking his eyelashes and framing his face in his hands. "That was so romantic."

I laugh, pulling the stool out from under the breakfast bar to sit across from him. "I know, but he's too friggin' cute. I actually like it."

He pauses for a second, dropping his hands and tilting his head at me, now watching me curiously.

"You like him."

I'm not sure how to read that statement. If he's offended by the thought or merely just surprised over the fact.

"Kinda, but not in the way you're thinking. His innocence is endearing."

"That sounds very attractive."

"It's not. I mean, it is, but I think only because I actually do like him as a person. We're like friends with benefits… and I've never had that with anyone else besides you. So I guess that's weird to me."

He looks at me thoughtfully before he responds. "I think I understand what you're saying."

I switch the conversation onto him, talking about Julian while he wasn't here wasn't something I thrilled over. If he wasn't physically here with me he rarely crossed my mind. "So how was the girl last night? She was kind of loud." I complain slightly, wrinkling my nose in distaste.

"I mean, it's me." He proudly declares, puffing his chest like a gorilla.

I roll my eyes. "So humble"

He laughs heartily but nods along. "No, you're right, she was loud… I think she was trying to make you jealous."

Jealous of what?

"Why? I was with Julian at the party and he came home with me after. Besides, everyone knows you're a hit-it-and-quit-it kind of guy. If she expects anything more from you, she'll be sorely disappointed."

"True, and who knows? I don't really know how the minds of women work."

"Me neither." I agree.

He snorts, shaking his head at my absurdity. "So we're heading back home Saturday morning. Wanna come?"

For a second, I want to say no. If I went back to Forks I wouldn't be able to stay away from La Push, and therefore, Paul… I'm not exactly sure why I felt as though I wouldn't be able to resist the temptation.

I refuse to think on it too deeply. It's not like I was going to visit him while I was there or anything. I internally convince myself it's a good time as any to go. I couldn't stay out of La Push forever.

"Sure. I'm actually off early tomorrow if you wanna take off a day earlier. I only have an hour class in the morning and my other professor called in sick and canceled class. The other one said to turn in our papers online and decided he didn't want to show up at all."

"How do you luck out on professors?" He asks in bewilderment.

"Dunno."

The oven dings and Jacob turns, pulling out a pie out of the oven. He places it on the cooling rack while he pulls out an ice cream container and the scooper. He reaches into the top cabinet to take out a single plate.

I narrow my eyes at his back, watching him cut a large piece of pie, which from the smell of it, appears to be apple.

How did I not notice the smell earlier? Not the important part, Bella!

I cross my arms bracing myself for what's to come, watching him scoop a generous amount of ice cream and placing it neatly on top. When he turns and places the plate right in front of me I see the sheepish, yet hopeful expression on his face. I look at the warm delicious pastry in front of me, my mouth salivating instantly.

I refuse to eat it, wanting to know what it'll cost me first. I lift my eyes up to Jacob and pierce him with a glare.

"Ok, Ok. So I was hoping you could help me with something…" He starts tentatively.

I knew it! "Spit it out."

"Ok, it's technically a favor to the pack." He blurts out quickly, as if preparing me for what's to come.

I only arch a brown in expectation, no patience whatsoever.

"The pack was hoping you would be willing to visit Paul this weekend."

My body doesn't immediately relax at the answer, if anything it stiffens further, a concerned frown now taking place. "Why?" I cautiously ask.

He releases a heavy breath, and with it I can finally see the stress he's been carrying for what must be a while now. I'm not sure if I purposefully ignored it or if Jacob successfully hid it from me this whole time. Either way, I feel instantly guilty. I should have seen it sooner.

"He hasn't allowed anyone to come near his home for the past two weeks." He admits finally.

"What do you mean?" I ask in confusion.

He scratches his temple, his eyes looking repentant. "Well usually one of the wolves, an imprint, or an elder, will drop off food for the day and make sure his house is looked after since Paul can't exactly do it himself. But for the past two weeks, he hasn't allowed anyone in, not even within a twenty foot radius of his home. He thunders out a warning growl until they leave. We've been leaving food on his porch, sometimes he eats it but most days he goes without. No one has seen him in those two weeks and we've all grown concerned."

"Jesus, Jacob." I rush out, throwing my hands over my face. "You didn't have to convince me with fucking pie to do it!"

"It's a lot, Bella." He cautiously admits. "We haven't really told you the full extent of what Paul has been going through, but it's not good. And now he won't let anyone near. He came to you when he first imprinted which means he trusts you on some level, at least more than the rest of us. We think that if you went to visit him this time he might not chase you away like he does the rest of us."

I bite my lip in worry, wondering how the hell I'm supposed to make it any better. Sure I helped him out when he found me in the middle of the road that day when he felt the pack was against him, and then he sought me out when he found his imprint… but that didn't necessarily mean I was special. No one outside of the pack knew about them being werewolves and so he had little to no other options. Really, I was the only one not directly involved… well, other than my dad. But I don't think he really counts. I also wondered why no one seemed to want to talk to me about it before, at least not until they actually needed me to do something.

"Why didn't you tell me this sooner?"

"You've been busy with Julian, and you haven't exactly asked about Paul either. You guys barely know each other so I figured you didn't really care."

"Of course I care, Jacob!" I declare, offended. Sure I wanted to secretly stay away from the drama but that didn't mean I didn't care about his well-being. "I care about all of you guys. If any of you needed me I'd be there. The only reason why I didn't ask was because you guys all sounded so hesitant to talk about it in the first place. I figured you guys just didn't want to."

He bites his lip, looking on in worry. "It's not that we don't want to… It's just that it hurts us to talk about him. What he's going through, Bella, it's… Fuck! It's awful." He finally admits. "He's grown so weak from lack of feeding, he can't move on his own. We have to practically carry him into the tub and bathe him ourselves. He's groaning in pain most of the time, which is the only thing that comes out of him other than the growls because he doesn't even speak. When he looks at you it's like– it's like he's not even there."

There's a painful squeeze at the pit of my stomach, making me almost nauseous just to hear the condition Paul has been in since I last saw him. He shouldn't have had to go through that alone, and it scared me to think he might not survive after fighting this long and this hard. But it's the same fight in him that leaves me in awe the most. Because even though he's in pain, practically wasting himself away to nothing, he's still not willing to give up. He's still willing to sacrifice even his own life for the choice of picking who to love for himself. He's still willing to fight and give it his all for this hypothetical woman that doesn't even exist in his life yet.

To me, that is the most awe-inspiring thing I have ever heard. If he got past this, if he ever won against his most basic instincts, whoever he finally chose to love in the future would be the luckiest woman in the world.

Meanwhile, Jacob looked so disturbed by what he's seen. Like the images of his pack mate in such a horrid state has been carved into his mind permanently. I reach over and grasp onto his hand trying to give him comfort no matter how late I am in doing so.

He turns it upside down, intertwining our fingers together.

"I'm sorry."

He shakes his head, confused as to why I'm apologizing when none of this is my fault. "It's Paul, if any one of us is strong enough to do it, it would definitely be him." He says frankly, as though he's pictured himself going through the same process and knows he never would have gotten this far. His eyes shift from our intertwined hands to my plate, at the almost completely melted ice cream. "You didn't eat your pie."

I look down too, my stomach practically turning over at the sight. "You ruined it with such terrible news, you jackass. How the hell am I supposed to enjoy my favorite dessert now?"

The right side of his lip quirks up just slightly. "Awww, you really do care about us sad wolves."

I roll my eyes, "It's not funny, you prick."

"Ok, ok, and I didn't mean to ruin your pie eating experience."

I give him a dead stare.

"How about I cut you a fresh slice?" He offers instead.

I release a hard puff of air but don't argue with him. Pie did make me feel better whenever I was sad, stressed, or worried too.

So, I guess it would help me now.

I sit in Jacob's car, trying to talk myself into getting out.

I don't.

I find myself so overwhelmingly nervous.

Jacob and I had arrived in Forks about two hours ago. As soon as I arrived at my dad's place, I greeted him quickly and immediately got to cooking, hoping I could get Paul to eat something… if I ever got past the front door that is.

Or out of this truck.

I was still wary, still doubtful that I would fare any better than the rest previously have. Paul and I barely knew each other. So it was reasonable for me to still be very skeptical this plan would actually work. But after receiving the abundant amount of encouragement from my dad, the whole wolf pack, and the imprints, I finally got the courage to come and try my hand.

No pressure. It wasn't like everyone was counting on me to get Paul to respond.

Shit!

I open my door and jump out, walking to the other side to carry out the mountain of food and supplies I'd brought with me… just in case.

I cautiously walk towards his porch, taking slow punctured steps to announce my presence, expecting to hear the beginning vibrations of a warning growl. When I don't, I keep moving forward, stopping just in front of the steps to his porch.

Still no growling, I start taking the steps up until I reach his front door.

I'm relieved to find myself having come farther than anyone else has in two weeks. That was a good sign, right?

"Paul." I call tentatively, ready to hear the rejection that was surely to come next.

Silence.

When I don't get a response I push forward. "It's Bella. I'm coming in, okay? I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't try to eat me when I do."

Still no response. I know it's still daytime but I swear I can hear crickets.

"Okkkk…" I start again, grasping onto the doorknob and twisting the knob, thankful to find it unlocked. "Don't say I didn't warn you!"

It doesn't open when I lightly push it, so I press my shoulder onto the door and put my whole weight against it as I push. I stumble right inside, almost dropping everything in my arms. I'm instantly struck with an old stale smell, as if not a single window has been open in months to allow precious fresh air to flow through the house. I wrinkle my nose in distaste.

"So I guess you haven't showered, huh?" I playfully question instead.

This time I do hear a faint growling coming from upstairs, but it lasts only a second before it putters out.

A sign of life!

I can't help the chuckle that comes out, more in relief than anything else. "Fear not my stubborn little wolf, your knight in shining armor is here to save the day."

He doesn't respond this time.

I'm surprised to see the house is not a complete mess. Some of the furniture seems to have been destroyed. The coffee table is wrecked, so is the book shelf in the corner, the tv. The sofa has long gashes along the material, allowing for the cotton stuffing to escape from, and–

Okay! So it actually is totally destroyed… but at least dust hasn't had the chance to solidify into every available surface yet.

There's always a plus side to everything.

"Dude, what the fuck did you do?! You know I'm gonna have to clean this shit up, right?"

Crickets.

When I walk into the kitchen to place the bags of food I'd brought onto his table, I find much of the same destruction. I silently shake my head, backing out of the kitchen and hopping over the mess to get to the stairs.

"You know if I fall and break something over the mess you've made, I can actually sue you?" I say, casually making conversation since he's not going to. "And just so you know, I told Charlie if he didn't hear from me in two hours to declare me dead and to write 'Death by giant lizard creature from the Lagoon' on my death certificate and possibly my headstone too. It might sound a bit too scooby doo-ish but it sounded more fun than 'Mauled by unknown creature.'"

By the time I'm done with my stupidity I'm at the doorway to his bedroom. It's so dark I can't see a thing. After being outside in the sunlight my eyes are unable to adjust to the darkness as easily, even when I squint my eyes I still can't identify the shadowy forms inside. I pull out my phone from my back pocket and turn on the flashlight.

It's there I find him, curled into a tight ball in the corner of his bedroom. I'm not even sure how physically possible it is, but Paul has managed to do it.

I blink away the tears that instantly well up in my eyes.

I push the emotion away with some always trusty dark humor. "Not at all creepy, wolf man." I squeeze out of my tight throat, desperately trying not to cry as I step into his bedroom slowly walking closer. "I feel like I'm in that movie, The Blair Witch Project, have you seen it?" Now reaching his side and squatting down to the floor.

He doesn't make a sound, not even a single stir. So I prepare myself for a long ride. Sitting next to him on the floor I cautiously place a hand to the top of his head, softly running my fingers through his greasy hair. It's longer than he had it before, like he literally hasn't cut it since I've last seen him.

"I'm sorry I didn't come sooner." I whisper softly, not able to stop a tear from slipping out. "I should have."

He groans in pain, slightly shifting and suddenly I feel his own hand wrapping around my wrist, so softly it's like I'm being touched by a ghost.

My hand stills and I think to pull away but Paul hadn't touched my hand to pull it away. If anything it felt as though he'd placed it there so he wouldn't lose the connection. Which meant he was fully aware of who was here.

I'm overwhelmed by the heavy meaning in the action. My heart swelling just a bit at being the one person Paul was willing to be around during his time of need. It solidifies my commitment to helping him through this as much as I can. Even if I have to visit him every weekend until he gets better again.

"I'm going to start letting some sunlight stream into the room, ok?" I ask while lightly caressing his head again, I move my free hand towards the curtain beside me. Gently tugging. A stream of light filters in and I turn off my flashlight.

For the next ten minutes that's how I spend my time, gently tugging on the curtain inch by inch to let more and more sunlight in while I run my mouth like I usually do.

When it's fully open. I relax a little more. "Ok. Now I'm going to let some fresh air in. It's a bit stuffy in here." I warn.

He whimpers and his hand slightly tightens around my wrist.

Sensing his unwillingness to let me go I'm quick to reassure him. "I'm not leaving. I'll stay here for as long as you need me." Gently tugging my wrist away.

He reluctantly lets go and I stand moving to unlatch the lock on the window to pry it open. I breathe in the fresh cool air, savoring it like I've forgotten how good it feels and smells.

I step back and move towards Paul again, kneeling in front of him. It's then I realize he's not wearing any clothes. Completely bare and probably not even aware of the fact.

"Do you realize the last two times I've seen you, you've been naked?" I tell him. "I'm starting to think it's all just a ploy to get into my panties."

A barely there scoff comes out of him and I giggle, bending forward and trying to lift his head up to see him.

He groans but he allows me to pick up his heavy head as if he weren't strong enough to do it himself. As soon as the sunlight hits his eyes, they instinctively squeeze shut.

While his eyes are closed I take the opportunity to take in more of his appearance. His face is gaunt like he hasn't eaten in months, his lips are dry and cracked, dehydration fully taking place, his once beautiful Quileute skin looking unnaturally pale. He has a face full of scruff, almost to a beard with how long he's gone without shaving. But what hurts the most is how utterly broken he looks.

I again have to blink away the tears before they fall, squaring my jaw and convincing myself I can totally do this.

By the time I get myself together, I realize he's already staring back at me. So many emotions chaotically filtering into his expression of which I have no idea how to interpret.

There's a flash of green but it's gone before I can even capture it. Doubting I even saw it to begin with. "So how about a shower? Does that sound nice?" I ask to prevent myself from being trapped under his gaze.

He doesn't answer, he just keeps staring.

"No protesting means, yes." And then I shake my head. "The women's rights organization at college would totally lynch me for that."

He still doesn't respond or take his eyes away from me.

"Ok. I'm gonna go fill your bathtub and then I'll be right back." When I get up this time he doesn't stop me, but I feel his stare following me the entire way.

I spot the slightly ajar door to the left of his bedroom and I head straight for it, finding his bathroom. I head straight for the tub and turn the handle to set the right temperature, water gushes out, and then I remember I was supposed to put the stopper.

"Oops." Very successful, Bella.

I get up and enter his bedroom again.

His eyes are on the wall behind me but it's like he's lost in his own mind again. Not realizing I'm there.

So I quickly run down the stairs to get the bath products I'd purchased from the store before coming here, along with a water bottle to try to get him to take at least a sip. I jog back up and slip into the restroom again, throwing a bath bomb that slowly starts turning the water pink. I bought this specific color for the comedic factor, but at the state he's in I wonder if Paul will even notice.

Pushing that thought away I turn off the tap once its filled half way, not wanting it to spill over when Paul's large body settles in.

Once done I take the water bottle I'd placed on the sink and move back into his bedroom watching him staring out the window now. But it's like he senses my presence this time and he turns in my direction, watching me get closer.

"Ok, before we even attempt to get you moved I was hoping you would take a few sips for me." I inform him, playfully shaking the water bottle in my hand from side to side.

He only looks at the bottle but doesn't make a single indication as to whether he wants to try or not. So I make the decision for him, dropping to my knees in front of him and unscrewing the bottle top. I place my hand underneath his jaw and lightly lift up.

He groans slightly but remains compliant, and when I tip the bottle to his lips he parts them slightly. Letting the water slide into his mouth. I try to go slow but it's hard to gauge how much I'm supposed to pour into his mouth before it's too much so of course I fail, lifting the bottle slightly when the water drips out of his mouth down to his chin and throat, running down his chest toward his–

Nope, not looking at that.

I perform the same process a few more times until half the contents are gone.

"That's enough for now." I tell him, moving to the next step before the water in the tub gets cold. "Alright, big guy. I'm gonna need you to help me get you up now."

I see the barely there nod he gives me and I move forward and to the side, lifting his long heavy arm and slinging it over my shoulders, wrapping my other arm around his torso to lift him up. I finally notice the smell. It's bad. A mix of sweat, dust, dirt, and body odor. He really hadn't showered at all these past two weeks.

He groans at the movement and his body slightly trembles but his other hand instinctively shoots out to use the end of the bed to help haul himself up.

I'm incredibly thankful, I doubt I would have been able to do it on my own. Finally he's up, on two shaky legs but up nonetheless.

"Now the walking part."

We take baby steps the entire way, taking much longer than it would to the average person. I can tell he's trying not to put his full weight on me, trying to gain purchase anywhere he can find as we move through his bedroom. I know for certain he wouldn't have been able to do this without me.

And it makes me so incredibly sad.

We finally reach the tub after some time and he holds onto the walls of the bathroom to climb over the side of the tub. He then proceeds to clumsily slide down against the wall until the lower half of his body is submerged underwater.

I snort as I watch him, "That works too."

He gives me a dead stare. It's a new expression, so I'm happy with it.

"Okay. I'm gonna let you soak in that for a few minutes while I try to find some clean towels and bedsheets to change your bed and I'll be back to help you."

His eyes shift to mine but he remains silent when I leave. Thankfully I find his linen closet full of clean towels and bedsheets. I bet either Emily or Kim thought to wash them before he stopped letting them in.

I grab the bed sheets first and carry them to his bedroom, placing them on his night table and removing the old ones to replace them with the clean ones. I ball them up and carry them downstairs hunting down his washer and dryer. I find them easily and stuff them in before I climb back up the stairs, as I do I hear the trickling of water.

Peeking over the doorway to the bathroom I watch him barely managing to shakily throw handfuls of water over his head.

"Look at that ladies and gentlemen. He's not as useless as we thought." I tease.

He turns in my direction again and stares me down, his left eye slightly twitching.

I giggle again. I move towards the tub and kneel beside it, reaching for his shampoo or not just shampoo. It's that all body and hair wash men use so they won't have to think about purchasing more products. I inwardly roll my eyes.

"Close your eyes." I warn.

He immediately listens and closes his eyes.

I squirt product onto the top of his head and begin a lather. At first he relaxes at my touch, his head tilting back with a serene expression on his face. Slowly I start to notice a slow tremble taking over his form, a tightening of his lips, his eyes squeezing shut even tighter. I rinse the suds out and he opens his eyes again.

He stares at me silently, the once almost pained look in his expression completely gone.

Weird.

I grab the loofa with the long handle I brought with me and soap that up next. Then run it across his back, his chest, under his armpits. As I get to his lower abdomen I stop, my eyes shifting back to his.

"You got the rest?" I finally ask after a long silent pause.

He nods solemnly.

Sensing the shift to a darker atmosphere I change directions. "So I was thinking I could feed you in the bathtub but you seem to be doing better than I expected. So, would you prefer to eat on your now clean bed?" I ask, then push further. "Blink once for bathtub. Twice for bedroom."

His eye twitches more and before I can get on my feet a gravelly voice whispers out, "Bed."

I almost fall back onto my ass, surprised to have heard his voice. I'm pretty sure my face is also showing my surprise because I swear there's a hint of humor in his eyes. But it's the first word he's said to me since I got here so of course I'm taken aback by the sound of it. It didn't sound like him at all. It sounded thick and withered from misuse, like it grated against his throat as it came out.

I inwardly shake my head. "Good choice. I'll put your food in a dog bowl so it's easier to eat."

This time he growls, his chest visibly vibrating with the effort.

And my face breaks out into a giant smile as I disappear from sight making my escape. Climbing down the stairs I feel a sudden vibration in my pants pocket now. By the time I pull my phone out it vibrates two more times in my hand.

Jacob: Signs of life?

Embry: From either one of you.

Jared: Hopefully both.

Me: We're both alive. And Paul is already regretting not scaring me away.

The group thread fills with incoming messages. Annoyed by the unending message alerts I leave the screen on while I get the food out.

I'm not quite sure how much he'll eat so I serve out a normal portion of food and start from there. When I hear a commotion coming from upstairs, I'm tempted to check on him but decide not to. If he can move on his own then I should encourage that. The more he's able to take care of himself, the better.

I grab the plate and move toward the stairs. I startle when I see him standing just at the top of the stairs, or more like sagging into the wall to help keep himself upright. I'm glad there's a towel wrapped around his waist so as not to inadvertently have a stare-down with his dick. I really did not want to have any more glimpses of that giant shlong. I tried not to look at it earlier when I helped him get off the floor, or when he'd slid down into the tub, but it'd been kinda hard to miss.

I look up at him, tilting my head in thought. "I'm not quite sure it's a smart idea to try to come down the stairs. If you stumble and tumble down and find a way to break something you'll be shit out of luck 'cause I won't be able to lift your heavy ass up. We'll have to call the guys and I'm pretty sure you don't want them here yet."

Just as I finish, more texts come in.

His brow very delicately arches in question, barely moving a centimeter higher, seeming to have a hard time coming back to himself.

"It's the wolf pack. They're worried about us."

His brow arches slightly higher signaling me to continue.

"Well you, because they weren't sure if you were alive. And me, because if you were alive and didn't want me here you would have eaten me and I'd never be heard from again. Though if you want my honest opinion I think they were more worried about me than you."

He scoffs and wobbly turns away from me, holding onto the walls to get into his bedroom.

By the time I get to the top of the stairs I see him, reaching his drawers.

"Oh yeah. I forgot to get you clothes. My bad." I say, placing the food and bottle of juice on his nightstand.

I move to his side and help him grab his clothes. "Do I need to change you?"

With a shaky hand he lifts his basketball shorts up to my face.

I narrow my eyes in suspicion, "I swear if I find out you're faking this shit. I will personally cut your dick off." But yank the shorts out of his hand anyway, squatting down in front of him.

He lifts one foot at a time holding most of his weight onto the dresser and I dutifully do the rest, sliding it up his thighs and under the towel. Ignoring my secret admiration over his muscled thighs, even with the weightloss they haven't lost their firmness. When I reach dick level I pull the elastic waistband further away from his body so as not to touch anything. But it only works to pry his towel open, his dick springing forward and too uncomfortably close to my face.

"For fuck's sake." I grumble, quickly tugging his shorts higher until it hides his junk from my sight. "I'm not touching your dick, asshole. So if you don't want it to get squished under the waistband you better rearrange it yourself before I let go."

A barely there smirk slowly appears on his face but he does as he's told, tucking his dick under the waistband before I release it making a smacking sound on his skin. He slightly flinches at what could have been his dick.

I smirk back. Two of us could play at this game.

"And just for that. You're feeding yourself while I watch my show on my phone."

He groans in pain again when I have to physically help him get into bed, tucking a pillow behind his back to add some comfort while he leans against the cold wall. I place another pillow on top of his lap and set his plate of food there. I also place the bottle of orange juice next to him and settle myself on his other side without our bodies touching.

"Ok, so I have a confession to make." I start, watching him slowly start to eat, his hand trembling every time he has to lift it up to his mouth. "I've been into this series of reality T.V. shows. Now don't make fun of me, because technically you owe me for becoming your nurse today… and probably for the rest of the weekend, and it would be really fucking rude for you to after such a sacrifice on my part."

Dead stare.

"But I've been really into these reality shows. All interconnected from different variations of the same show and series. Anyway, right now they're putting 90 Day Fiance: Happily Ever After. And goddammit it's fucking good. It's about these couples who find love in foreign countries. They apply for a K1 visas to bring their lovers abroad and then have to marry them within 90 days or they get basically deported. Well that's the original show, but this one is their life after they've gotten married. And all these couples are so damned dramatic. It's absolutely riveting."

Still no reply, but every time I start to speak he stops eating, gazing at me as though he's following my every word.

So I enter the app on my phone and click to the episode where I left off. "Ok, so this one married a guy from Egypt who's Muslim. She actually tried to live in Egypt permanently but she couldn't handle their supremely conservative lifestyle. So she came back to the U.S and now the husband is in the U.S. trying to see if he can live here. But she's so damned annoying, she makes things a lot harder than they need to be. For being forty years old, she's so immature in her way of thinking. I mean, she knew she married a Muslim who wanted her to wear a hijab and clothing that covered her whole body. She initially agreed, even converted to his religion, but when she realized she couldn't do it she now expects him to be happy she's wearing the complete opposite. Now how does that make any fucking sense?"

He listens to me as I ramble on about each couple on screen, never commenting or making a single sound, but every time I turn my head to make sure he's listening. He always is. Without fail.

And so that's how we pass the afternoon to evening. Him eating while I'm watching the show and make a comment here and there.

When I catch him dozing off I gently push him to his side and help him get settled. Appearing so thoroughly exhausted he doesn't even open his eyes or seem to acknowledge himself moving or my presence. Once he's tucked into bed, a light bed sheet covering him up to his chin, I quietly stare down at him wondering how the hell we both got here.

Without meaning to, my hand reaches down to his face. I stop myself before I make contact with his skin, but brush a strand of hair away from his face. His head almost seems to involuntarily tilt into my hand as he sleeps, resting the side of his face against my hand. As soon as our skin touches he emits a low whining sound, similar to a cry of a young pup. It immediately stops when I retract my hand and pull away.

I puff out a long drawn out breath, feeling so overwhelmed by everything that's happened today. Before I can dwell on it more, I move downstairs hoping to get rid of some of the mess he's made in the living room and kitchen before it's time for me to go to bed, all while hoping tomorrow will turn out a lot better than today.

A/N: No lie though, I really am obsessed with the whole 90 day universe. That show cracks me up! I'm currently watching 90 day: Happily ever after and so of course it's been on my mind and had to make an appearance in this story. Ha ha. Also, anyone else watch it? And am I the only one who thinks most of these couple are ALL complete disasters?

Also, I wanted to let you guys know I've only been posting once a week because life's been busy and I'm also trying to catch up on writing this story because I'm kind of behind on chapters and that gives me anxiety lol Also, I like to edit the crap out of these chapters and I hate to have errors. Even though I know I still have many I still don't catch. But can you imagine if I didn't? They'd all be a mess.

Anyway, I'll let you guys go. Hope you enjoyed and see you next week!