So...this is the last post. two chapters and the epilogue. I wrote the last chapter literally ages ago, but i had to work forward towards this point. Thanks for sticking with me, and enjoy. love, meggo.

The longest mile is the last mile home. Proverb.

But I'm unbearably close.

The last month crawled. I was due in the second week of April. By the time the first rolled around, I was chomping at the bit, my emotions in a tangled, high strung mess of anticipation. It was all Rose could do to stop me from checking myself into the hospital and having the baby out of sheer willpower. I couldn't even text Finn; he was white water rafting with some college friends for their spring break. Instead of actuallyfocusing on the latest diversion Rosalie had dredged up for me- some movie, a comedy, I think-I tore through my pregnancy book again and again. I figured some of the rules weren't quite the same, but the thick, much-abused manual to motherhood was a security blanket. One more week, I kept telling myself. One more week. Tomorrow, we were moving to the Cullen house until after the birth, and I'd be in unbearable bed rest for two hundred and sixteen hours, at least.

With that daunting prospect ahead of me, I fell asleep on the couch at probably 3 AM, still reading about breastfeeding and contractions, Rose curled next to me silently.

A loud thump woke me up. My book falling to the floor. Vague sunlight slanted through the front windows, which faced southwest. Afternoon. Funny, I hadn't slept this long in a while-

A slow, insistent, urgent pain rumbled inside me.

"Rosalie?" I called, panic coloring my voice. She was immediately at my side.

"Leah," she said in a calming voice, "I think your water just broke."

"I know," I choked out. "I think I'm having a contraction. A week early?" I said, my voice spiraling into shrillness.

"Nothing to be worried about," she called. She darted away from my side. By the time I'd struggled into a sitting position, she had gathered my packed bag, her purse, and the pillow from my bed. She held out a hand to me, gently hauling me up.

I don't really remember the drive to the Cullen house, save for the fact that everything flashed by in a whirl of excitement and strained fear.

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck," I hissed as Rose tried to help me out of the car.

"Another one?"

"Yeah," I grunted. "Really bad." Tears sprung to my eyes.

Alice grabbed my bag while Rose gripped my hand as I walked shakily towards the house.

Carlisle had a bed with stirrups set up, but I couldn't sit down, not yet. I felt the compulsive urge to walk back and forth slowly, as though that would ease the lightning pains that were radiating from my center. Alice practically had to order me to sit so that they could check how far I was dilated.

"Six centimeters," Carlisle mumbled, the faintest bit of shock coloring his voice.

"Already?" Rosalie choked, eyes widening.

"She's not even going to make it to when her brother gets here," Alice said sharply. "She needs the epidural now."

They jabbered in quick medical terms, most of which I understood. The one thing I understood most of all, though, was that, no matter what, my baby girl could wait until Seth and Mom got here.

She did, but just barely.

Amy Rosalie Clearwater. Born April 3rd, 6:28 PM, twenty-two perfect inches, seven and three-quarters pounds.

April showers bring May flowers. Proverb.

More like May hurricanes. But my flower came in April anyway.

Time for Amy to meet her house.

We'd stayed at the Cullen house in lieu of the hospital, but it was time to go home.

Sam's face as he looked at me, cradling my little girl. It was a twisted mix of love and sorrow and discomfort, a twinge of regret. I smiled at him, a queen granting her bumbling subject a pardon. He'd been apart from my life for long enough that I didn't need him anymore. This was the first time I'd seen him since before I ran away.

Cars flashed by occasionally. Rosalie was keeping the speed down, because of the precious cargo in the backseat.

Seth's face, so full of joy that it overflowed from his face and gave his arms an excuse to wave around ecstatically. Nat's, cradling Connor as she showed him Amy, saying, "Look, Con, look at your little twin!"

We climbed the porch stairs silently, both transfixed by the child in my arms. Rose held the door for us as we walked into the house. She started fussing, squirming in my arms, then gave an anxious wail.

"She's hungry," I murmured subconsciously. I settled into my rocking chair, unbuttoning my shirt and bra. Rosalie leaned against the doorframe, looking at me with a small touch of envy. I ignored it for now. Her time would come.

I left Finn a voicemail. He'd never responded.

"Go home, Rose," I breathed quietly, smiling at Amy on my breast. "I want to feel the house with her in it." She pressed her lips to Amy's forehead, then mine. Goosebumps raised gently on Amy where Rose kissed her, and I pressed my cheek to her so she would be warm again. Her golden eyes were soft as she backed away and looked at us, curled in the rocking chair. Then she left, skittering silently down the stairs. The door closed with a tiny bump.

The house was comfortably silent except for the muted drum of rain on the roof, the slight hum of the refrigerator, and Amy's soft, satisfied sucking. I drew in a shaky, surreal breath, gently switching her to my other breast. Her face crinkled unhappily for a second, and she whimpered, but her face smoothed out and relaxed as she continued to eat. When I felt her slow, I gently sat her up, closing my shirt again. I scooped her up, holding her tight to me, rocking and bouncing back and forth gently. She let out a tiny burp, and I wiped the spit from her mouth.

"Amy," I whispered, "Amy, look! This is my room! And here," I said, edging past the stairs to the even smaller bedroom that would be hers. "It's your room." The tiny changing table and crib all but overflowed into the stairwell. I turned away and rocked her a little slower. Her eyes were barely open, lolling up into her head. She was a few short minutes from unconsciousness-for a few hours. I walked into my room and tucked her gently into the bassinet. I sat on my bed, listening to her breathing. I knew I should be theoretically sleeping, to catch up for the points where I would be awake for long stretches of time, but I figured the patrol schedule had pretty much prepared me for motherhood.

I heard a car crunching up to the drive. I stayed on the bed, loathe to leave Amy even for a second. Until I heard the voice that swore as it climbed out of the car.

"Leah?"

I ghosted down the stairs, opening the door. Finn was staring at me bewilderedly through the screen, his fist about to knock on the frame.

"Uh..." he said, blinking. "Hi. You're..." his eyes went to my stomach, "Not pregnant."

"I know," I whispered, "She's sleeping. Would you like to see her?"

He opened the door and took my hand as I led him upstairs. His feet were loud on the treads. I turned mid-step on the stairs and placed a finger to my lips. He smirked ruefully at me from one step down and nodded. We tiptoed to my room.

Finn stared at Amy stirring in the bassinet, mouth agape. His eyes were a little shiny and his fingers twitched at his sides. After a few minutes, he straightened up and cleared his throat, shoving his hands into his pockets and avoiding my eyes.

"She's cute, isn't she?" I murmured, leading the way downstairs. I curled up on the couch as he sat, still dumbfounded, next to me.

"Yeah," he said, leaning against me. The quiet stretched on for several minutes.

"What's wrong? You look like you got hit by a truck."

"Uh...nah. It's just...you're not pregnant." I turned towards him slightly, raising my eyebrows. "Well no, like I know I sound retarded, but that's seriously like the weirdest thing. I've known you like...for seven or eight months or something, and your dominant personality trait has been 'pregnant'. And stuff that goes along with that. And..." He turned towards me. "I kind of wish I'd known pre-baby Leah. A less maternal, maybe less concerned Leah. I feel like...maybe like I'd have had a chance, if there wasn't something way more important in your life."

I didn't move, but I quietly closed my eyes. There was nothing I could say. He was completely and utterly right. This felt exactly like Jake's memory of Bella choosing Edward, which he'd had on repeat incessantly for months before Nessie was born.

"Leah," Finn breathed softly, eyes closed, lips parted, "I'm going to be perfectly honest. I think I'm falling in love with you." His breath came unevenly, and he leaned in. His kiss was cool, soft. I was breaking, bending, unsure. He tasted sweet. Sam had tasted like smoke. Carter tasted like silk.

Amy slept on.

He moved closer, a hand slowly stroking my face, pulling back my hair. His other hand was on my hip, softly. He was kind, and he was nice, and I was alone with my baby.

My breath suddenly hissed in and I pushed my fingers through his hair, moaning. For a few brief seconds, I indulged myself. He eased his shirt off, then placed his hands back on my waist. My eyelashes dusted his cheek as my hands went to his chest.

His hands were icy.

Then I locked up. I drew my tongue out of his mouth, drew my fingers across his chest and folded them in my lap, gently broke the kiss. I stayed there, inches away, my eyes closed as I let the fragility of the moment resonate. My eyes opened a hair. His were still closed, and he panted, smiling, about to lean in and kiss me again.

"No," I said, standing up. "I have to be honest back. You're probably right. But Amy is what I've got. You know parts of my story, but this is brand new. Maybe I could have dated you when I was eighteen, even twenty, but I'm almost twenty six, and with a baby. I'm so different now. We could be friends, but I know that won't be enough for you. I'm sorry." I gently leaned in and moved his hair out of his eyes, kissed his shocked face on the cheek. "Goodnight. And goodbye." I turned and walked silently up the stairs, closing the door, curling into my rocking chair.

I heard him, his silence dumbfounded.

"I..." he said, sitting up on the couch. The springs shrieked, and I heard the scrape of skin over skin as he rubbed his face and hair. I listened, balled up in the chair as it rocked slightly. He stood, grabbing his shirt. The floor creaked.

The screen door crashed open and closed.

At least I was better at closure than Bella was.

I almost smiled, rocking the bassinet lightly.

Epilogue.

Lie down with dogs, get up with fleas. Proverb.

Fleas never sounded so exciting.

Amy was a month old. After all of my baby weight had metabolized itself, I was dying to go wolf. I hadn't phased in more than a year, and I felt the connection between my pack brothers and I itching, as if it were waiting for me. So I briefly kissed Amy goodbye.

I stood in front of the mirror, contemplating again. I was a bit rounder than before, my hips stretched by childbirth, my breasts heavier with milk, but my stomach was flat again (if not particularly muscular) and I looked essentially the same. My hair was shorter than ever before, even; a fluffy two-inch halo of hair around my head. I wasn't a brood mare anymore, but I was a mother, and my youthful vanities were washing away daily, but that still didn't mean I couldn't look like a badass with a great haircut.

The scars were still there, and always would be. It would be a never ending part of my life, the search for normalcy, the push and pull of human and magic and science and pain and love.

I walked out of the house, vibration building, bursting into flame.

Welcome home, Leah.

The rush of consciousness filled in all of the holes in my heart. I'd been somehow locked off from my brother, from Jacob, from Embry and Quil, and now it was all okay.

So...that's it, loyal readers. It's taken more than a year of shitty updates. I have a vague idea for a sequel, but it's going to be updated even more sporadically and crackheadedly than this was. But here's a little sample, if you're interested:

Vampire science time, I thought, trepidation building a little.

"After scans and samples, we've found that, though the male genetic material is viable, the eggs are more vulnerable to the initial venom in the transformation. They atrophied before the transformation was even complete."

Rosalie gripped my arm, not letting go even when she heard the cracks of small fissures open up where her fingers clenched. I gritted my teeth, arms shaking. Her breathing was hissing in and out, chest heaving, and a quiet, strangled scream worked its way through her lips.

"Rosalie," Emmett said, taking her hands.

"I'm not finished," Carlisle said quietly. "Esme and Leah and I did a little digging, through the Rochester surveys and censuses. Your younger brothers, Stephan and Gabriel, both went on to have families." Rosalie's eyes widened, reflecting inwards.

"Stephan was fifteen when I died," she said, eyes glassed over and thoughtful. Her use of the word 'died' chilled me, but she seemed not to realize it. "Gabe was only ten. He was going to be our ring bearer." She pursed her lips. I remembered Royce's chilled hands hard on her hips. My hands started vibrating, but I silenced them.

"Go on Carlisle," I said quietly.

Love you, reviews always welcomed and appreciated.