Paul sat on Leah's couch, his head in his hands. He spoke in a whisper. "How the fuck do I handle this, Leah? It's not about me - I know that. But I don't think I can do this." He looked up at her, his face streaked with tears. "I'm a failure - as a father, as a husband. What do I tell my kids?

Leah sat next to him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "You just have to remember you're not alone, Paul. You're never alone. We're all here for you - and for Rachel and the kids. We need a plan. A schedule. Just keep your eyes on the goal - getting her well."

It was hard to look at the pain in his eyes. "But what if…" He couldn't finish the thought.

"NO. We're not thinking like that, Paul. We put one foot in front of the other."

"She's gonna fight, Leah. As hard as she can. God, she's only 38 years old!"

The twins came banging into the kitchen, the screen door slapping against the doorframe as they tumbled into the house. Josh went tearing down the hall, but Jason peered into the living room, his eyes wide. "Uncle Paul?" He hesitated in the doorway. "Are you okay?"

Leah patted the couch beside her. Jason sat down, and she slipped her arm around him. "Aunt Rachel is sick, honey. Really sick. Uncle Paul is worried about her. We all are."

His eyes flickered from Paul to his mother. "She's not gonna die, is she Mom?"

Leah pulled him close. "You know I never lie to you and your brother. The truth is - we are going to do everything we possibly can to help Aunt Rach and Uncle Paul to make sure she gets better. That's the best I can do, honey. And you can help too, when you say your prayers every night."

"Okay, Mom." He was avoiding Paul's eyes. "Can I go talk to Josh now?"

"Sure, honey. Go ahead." She kissed his cheek and he escaped.

The treatments were brutal. Rachel would be admitted to the hospital for a day or two and come home exhausted. The children were becoming accustomed to tiptoeing and whispering around the house, and their mother had a hungry, haunted look with dark circles under her eyes. She tried valiantly to eat, but nothing much would stay down and she lost weight. Sarah, Sue, and Leah kept the family fed and tried to come up with meals that would tempt Rachel. Her dark wavy hair was thin and lifeless. Time dragged on.

Paul walked quietly into the darkened bedroom and slipped under the sheets, staying on the edge of his side. The nearness of his imprint still comforted him, but she looked so fragile he was afraid to touch her. She had just endured the last of her chemo, and she was completely drained. They all were.

"Paul? Do you think you could hold me?" She tried to smile in the gloom. "I won't break. Honest."

He couldn't answer past the lump in his throat. He felt her slipping away, day by day, and had never been so frustrated in his life. There seemed to be nothing he could do, though he would gladly have given his life if it would help. He cradled her small form in his arms, and Rachel sighed as she nestled into him. "Better," she said simply.

He woke with a start. "Rach?" he whispered, panic stricken. She was so silent - so cool to his fevered touch.

Her eyes opened slowly, and she smiled. A ghost of the Rachel smile he loved so well. "Is that the sun? I must have really slept. It's been a while."

The change was not dramatic, but he began to see a subtle reversal of the downward spiral. First she started to pick at her food - and to keep it down. The next doctor visit loomed at the beginning of December, and when the date finally arrived Paul took her as always. After the CT scan, he sat next to her, holding her hand, waiting for the doctor as they both held their breath. To their surprise, it was Carlisle Cullen who walked in and seated himself behind the desk with a wide smile. They barely had time to wonder why.

"I asked Dr. Brody to let me give you the good news. I hope you don't mind, but I've been following your progress along with him. There's no sign of tumor, Rachel. We can't call you 'cured' for five years, but it looks like you beat it. Congratulations."

Rachel got shakily to her feet and settled on Paul's lap, wrapping her skinny arms around his neck. She leaned her face against his warm chest as his arms closed around her and his tears dripped, unhindered, onto her hair. Carlisle slipped quietly from the room, leaving them to absorb the news in private.

Rebecca and Solomon arrived on the 23rd in the midst of a snow storm. They shivered on the front porch as they waited for Rachel to open the door. The twins threw their arms around each other; no words were necessary. Paulie and Jaci insisted on dragging the suitcases inside, and Paul opened the vertical blinds to reveal the marshmallow world - so foreign but fascinating to the Hawaiians.

Christmas morning dawned cold and clear. Jaci opened her parents' bedroom door and climbed onto the bed, wiggling her little body between them. Paul grinned. "Is the sun up?"

"Yes, Daddy. I remembered what you said," Jaci assured him.

Rachel kissed her cheek and smiled, stretching. "Okay. I smell coffee, so Aunt Becca must be up already."

Across town, Leah and Jake were enjoying a leisure cup of coffee on the couch, the large tree glowing softly in the corner. "First time we've been up before the boys on Christmas," Jacob commented. "They're growing up, I guess."

Sue Clearwater opened her eyes slowly and looked around the unfamiliar room. Charlie was already awake, and he was gazing at her with a satisfied smile. "Merry Christmas, my love."

She smiled back at him. "Mmmm...same to you." She kissed him softly, then settled back onto her pillow. "I love a man with a mustache," she grinned.

Sarah was putting the finishing touches on her Christmas ham. She popped it in the oven and looked out the window over the sink. Right on cue, Billy emerged from the forest. He strode purposefully toward the house, stepping quickly through the deep snow in the blinding sunshine. He looked every inch the chief of his tribe as he stomped his bare feet on the porch before striding into the kitchen. "I know you're not cold, Billy, but go get some clothes on to make ME feel better!"

He gathered his wife into his arms and kissed her thoroughly. "It's gonna be a great day." He patted her butt affectionately before loping up the stairs to find some clothes.

It was the best Christmas ever.