I was elbow deep Mrs. Cameron's plumbing situation – which was pretty terrible – while I forced Jared to help by going to buy spare parts. I was pretty sure that some half-blind, thumbless, dementia patient had been the last one to repair the Cameron's water heater. I had asked Mrs. Cameron about it and she said it had been fading in and out for close to two weeks. For that, Jared earned a dope slap. Just because he and his brothers found the river suitable for hygiene purposes, didn't mean the rest of us humans did.

"When was the last time you were home, you moron?" I growled at him as his mother tended the yard outside.

Jared grimaced and rubbed the soft spot on the back of his head that I had managed to reach. "Ow, God… I don't know, maybe a week? I only stop in for clothes and food. Whoa! Don't hit me again!"

He deftly avoided another blow from me but only barely. "Jared, I get that you're all busy beyond belief, especially given… recent events," I glossed lightly over my brother's total disappearance and Paul's arrest. "But that doesn't mean you can just bail on your mom! Your dad's up north working; you are all she has left here!"

"I can't help it if she doesn't mention it," he hissed back at me.

"Jared," I sighed, rubbing my brow. "Work with me here? Your mom doesn't know about the Pack. She knows you're of age, doing sketchy things and are engaged to a younger woman across town. She's afraid to pry because it might push you away. Therefore, she's not going to nag you about the water heater!" Jared just gave me this sort of flat look. "Would it kill you to take a shower here every few days?" I whacked him in the arm with an adjustable wrench. "Pretend you still have family? You're hurting her."

"Sheesh… fine, woman," he flinched back. "Quit abusing me."

I shoved a post it note into his hand. "Go down to the hardware store and get this stuff. It shouldn't be more than twenty bucks."

"Yes, boss-lady." He saluted me once and was out the door before I was able to land another strike on him.

I had returned to undoing the previous roughshod repairs, when Mrs. Cameron came and knocked on the open closet door where her hot water heater was stored and I was crouched. "Rachel, honey? It's your Dad. He'd like a quick word."

I crawled out of the small space and stood upright. "Thank you, Mrs. Cameron."

She smiled sweetly, looking a bit tired. "Call me Maggie," she insisted as she handed me the phone.

"Dad?" I asked as I used the chance to stretch my cramping muscles. "What's up?"

"Hi, Rach. Just got the call from Charlie in Forks. He's agreed to let Paul go without any charges. Apparently Jesse was trying to sell to the high school kids again." I heard my Dad issue a long-suffering sigh. Tribes got enough of a bad wrap, especially in regards to certain stereotypes. My Dad and the rest of the Council had always tried - and mostly succeeded - in keeping La Push clean. They didn't want to give anyone a reason to view the res as charity case. I could tell Jesse's arrest both relieved and worried him. "Charlie says he could bring him up on a few misdemeanors, but he won't – given what Jesse was up to."

I sighed in relief. That little shit was so lucky. I didn't know whether I was more relieved or pissed off. "Thanks, Dad. I'm glad Charlie went easy on him. This is not happening again."

"I believe that. If there's anyone that can convince Paul Lahote to calm down, it's you Rach. You've done wonders for him so far."

"Everyone keeps telling me that, but I don't think I get it," I muttered as I leaned against an end table in the hall.

"That's because you didn't know the man before. I tell you Rach, you think he's a loose cannon now, you should have seen him before he met you. The Pack and the Council knew what was really happening – he was simply and angry kid who got compounded with phasing – but to everyone else, he was trouble. Real trouble. It's nice for him – for his family – that you came into his life. Not everyone's convinced he's pure riffraff now."

"Yeah," I scoffed. "Only half the reservation hates him, now. That's such an improvement."

"Time heals all wounds," Billy offered sagely.

"I wish I could be as optimistic as you, Dad."

"Ah, it comes with time and raising melodramatic teenage girls. I told Charlie you'd be around in an hour or two. Finish up with Margaret first; Charlie's at the station until six today."

I agreed and hung up the phone. As I went to the kitchen to place the hand-held back in its spot, Mrs. Cameron surprised me with her presence. I could have sworn she had gone back outside. "Oh!" I said my hand flying to my chest. "Mrs. Cameron, you scared me…"

"Maggie, dear. I insist. Maggie. I've known you since you were a child and now – in your mid twenties – you are more than allowed to use my given name."

"Sorry, Maggie," I replied intentionally, handing her back her phone. "Old habits die hard."

"As long as they're not contagious," she countered as she peered at me over the top of her eyeglasses.

I watched her speculatively, knowing she was getting at something, but played dumb for now. I opened my mouth to make a joke at Jacob's expense – he had more than enough bad habits to irritate me – when I remembered… and snapped my jaws closed. I was willing enough to let Jake leave the toilet seat up and refuse to use the bread ties if he would just come home.

Before I could dwell too long on that train of thought, Maggie Cameron's voice interrupted. "That boy of yours, Paul Lahote?" she tapped the antenna of the phone against my shoulder. "He's a good boy gone astray, but don't let him take you with him, Rachel. You're a smart girl. And believe me, I know the wonders a good, smart girl can do for a wayward young man," she nodded towards Jared's rarely used bedroom.

"He's a good guy, Maggie," I insisted staring at Jared's bedroom door. "I know Jared's seemed a little rebellious lately—"

"Like your Paul."

"Just like my Paul," I smiled. "But you're absolutely right. They're both good guys. And I know the prognosis doesn't seem good, but I promise you they're not doing anything bad. Appearances can be deceiving. They're simply… preoccupied."

"Do you know something I don't, Rachel?" Again Maggie Cameron eyed me speculatively. She had never been a prying woman – which, fortunately for Jared – had played to his new found lifestyle. But she now appeared to be at the point in life where she was desperate – would do anything – to learn about the true well being of her son. For that she would pry.

Unfortunately, it wasn't my place to give her what she sought. I'd never before questioned Sam's injunction to the wolves. They were all ordered to keep their phasing and the Pack a secret – unless absolutely necessary. Only imprints and members of Council knew. And those where it was unavoidable. Sam had actually lifted the injunction in Embry's case, because his disappearances were causing him and his mother so much worry it was affecting Pack dynamics. He still hadn't told her. But Jared – like the others – had been given no such reprieve. All their parents, their former friends, their teachers were in the dark. Most thought the Pack boys had joined 'Sam Uley's Gang' as it had been titled.

"Maggie," I glanced up the older woman's worry-lined face. "Do you know why Paul got arrested a few days back?"

She started momentarily, not expecting my question. "Well, I've heard rumors, but I've never been one to take in gossip," she answered honestly. That's why I liked Maggie Cameron. Sure, she worried herself sick over Jared, but she never berated him, never thought less of him. She was just concerned. She wouldn't believe the lies they told about the Pack boys until she heard from her son herself; for the time being, she just held her maternal eye close.

"He got arrested for beating up Jesse Whitehorse. He was dealing in the parking lot of the food store, just over the line in Forks." She gave me a quizzical look, wondering whether his intentions were good or if a full-fledged drug war was about to start in our corner of the world. "He was dealing to kids – young high schoolers – and Paul lost it."

And with that, Maggie knew. She knew the boys weren't involved in drugs. Paul and Jared were newfound best friends. Had been now for about a year since first phasing; they did everything together. And having seen enough new addiction cases on the res, both Maggie and I knew that it was not a singular sort of activity; it was done in groups, and usually alienated the non-users.

I had sort of backed into her question. I couldn't answer her honestly – because there were things I knew that she didn't. But I didn't want to lie to her either. Instead, I hoped I could offer her some peace of mind. Jared and Paul weren't on drugs.

Jared had come home just in time to prevent his mother from divulging another embarrassing childhood story (though she did manage to tell me about the time he'd cried for days because Sam spoiled the concept of Santa for him). I finangled most of the new and spare parts into their proper places, but when it was quarter past five I instructed Jared – who had been watching me previously – on how to finish up the project. I had to go get his best friend from county jail.

There was a decent amount of paperwork involved in having Paul released. Charlie also handed me the paper work about his court appearance.

"What!" I shrieked. "Charlie you can't," I begged. "If he has this on his record as an adult, he'll never get a job, it'll follow him around everywhere. Please? He'll be miserable."

"Calm it down there, Rachel," Charlie replied in his slow cadence, his mustache bristling. "This is just to appear as a witness against Jesse. Paul agreed to testify against him – along with a few other citizens – in order to get the local dealer off the street for a few years. In exchange, I will not charge him."

"You are a saint, Charlie Swan," I sighed in relief.

"I try," he nodded. "But just know that this is his last shot," he continued sternly. "I know you're not responsible for him, but I may as well read you his riot act since you're the voice of reason in his life. He's of age now, and I can no longer allow him to slip under the wire. It's not good form. He needs to get his anger under control or he'll find himself in a whole mess of trouble with folks stricter than myself."

I glanced at the floor, feeling the parental and official tone roll off him in waves. "Yes, sir."

"All right, I'll go and have him released. You kids stay out of trouble now, y'hear."

And with that, he proceeded out of the small office space and down to where I knew the only two holding cells in Forks were located. I found myself fidgeting in Charlie's absence. At first I couldn't stop jiggling my foot and then I decided pacing would smooth out the jitters. When I realized that made me seem completely manic I went outside.

It was like my emotions – which are normally neat, organized and easily to categorize, if not easy to deal with – had all been spun through a blender. Like I was living through the spin cycle in a washing machine.

I was happy that Paul hadn't been charged with anything; I was proud of him for agreeing to testify against Jesse. I was happy that Paul was coming home. But I was also relieved. It felt like I could breathe again. I didn't know what made me feel so on edge about Paul being gone. Jake's absence made me unbearably sad – even thinking about it still made my heart hurt. I instinctively wrapped my arm around my abdomen. Now I understood where the Swan girl was coming from with all those weird antics in the Cullens' absence. I flung my arm down immediately after the thought passed, refusing to be like that even in the absence of my closest friend.

I continued pacing in the parking lot in front of the truck Jake and I used to share. I thought that maybe it wasn't Paul's absence that made me edgy. It was that same feeling I had yesterday when I went for my run. It was my mother's absence years and years prior, and my brother's absence, and now Paul's absence. It was the series of absences that left me feeling alone – like I'd drown in the world without my family. My logical side told me that I shouldn't have been running from them all those years.

Buried under the relief and anxiety was anger. I was mad. I was mad at Paul. He screwed up big time. Charlie was right. He lost his temper and hurt Jesse. Not that the guy didn't deserve it, but Paul could have hurt him far beyond any normal man. He could've lost control, risked his safety and the security of the entire Pack. All for one idiot. So much damage was barely avoided that day. I couldn't believe how irresponsible…

I wasn't able to get any further in my volatile mental dialogue.

"Rachel," a familiar voice interrupted me. I stopped my pacing and looked up. Paul was standing just outside the Forks Police Department door, in the clothes he had put on the day I made him come grocery shopping. He watched me carefully trying to gauge my reaction. I took a few steps closer, my face flat. He closed the gap, shuffling towards me with his head down. To the outsider, having one Paul Lahote – at six foot four – walk sheepishly to his five foot nine girlfriend might have been comical.

His breathing was deep, but measured and when he looked at me, my heart almost broke. But I wouldn't crack under his puppy dog eyes. He scared the crap out of me and his actions had made me miserable. Not to mention, put the whole Pack on edge.

Without even thinking about it, I reached and slapped my hand across his face. I don't even know what possessed me to do it. As my hand finished its path of destruction, it snapped up to my mouth in shock. It wasn't the first time I'd hit Paul (and it wouldn't be the last) but I hadn't been planning on it and I hadn't expected it. It was as if my arm moved of its own accord.

Of course it hadn't hurt him, but he seemed to be expecting it more than I was. He just nodded once and then bent down and picked me up off the ground, his arms wrapped around my waist as he pulled me towards himself. He exhaled, hot breath against my shoulder. "God I missed you…"

I extricated my arms from Paul's embrace and pressed against his shoulders, forcing him away from me – despite how much better, calmer the contact made me feel.

I stared at him, my mouth tight and my expression stony. "You can't do this anymore, Paul. You can't ever do that to me again."

"I'm sorry Rachel. I'm so fucking sorry. You must've been worried sick."

I glanced down, unable to bravely reconcile the way I'd been feeling, and nodded. Paul recognized the uncharacteristic submissiveness immediately. "Rach…" he reached tentatively for my hand and when I didn't make any move away from him he held onto it lightly. "Rachel, honey? Talk to me."

"You disappeared on me," I sighed, watching our feet. "First my mom, and then years later now Jake is gone and I feel like a child all over again and just when I think I'm starting to be able to cope with it like a normal freaking person, I come outside and find out that you're getting arrested and my dad totally knows and I still feel all alone and panicky like I'm lost and nothing but hyperconcentration on Margaret Cameron's hot water heater has helped me at all."

My eyes pricked at the edges but no tears fell. Paul, still an arm's distance away processed all my pent up psychobabble. He swallowed and then, in a stilted voice asked, "Can I hug you?"

I only nodded and he pulled me towards himself almost instantly. Pressed against his torso, it was warm and firm and comfortable and I finally couldn't help but give in. There weren't any theatrical sobs and tears. But I was more upset and relieved than I'd ever been in my entire life.

"You're never alone, Rach," Paul muttered against the top of my head. "You have your Dad and your sister. And Jake's out there and would come back in a moment if you needed him. You have the whole Pack: Sam, Emily, Jared, Kim, Embry, Brady, Collin, Leah, Quil, heck even little Claire. They love you like family. That's what Pack is. You'll never be alone."

"It's not the same," I mumbled like a child. Of course I knew the Pack was my family. They were the only things that had gotten me through Jake's and now Paul's absence, but I couldn't live my life only barely held together by my loved ones.

"I know," he agreed. "But you don't have to worry. I'm not going anywhere ever again. I promise."

Things changed from that point. I didn't really notice or trace it back until much later, but Paul tells me his wolf knew that at that point – when we were standing in the Forks PD parking lot, with him unshowered for two days and me an emotional mess – is when we were mated. He promised never to abandon me again and on a subconscious level I gave into the imprint.

I hadn't been actively resisting it before, but how you can you so easily cave to a lifelong commitment to a guy who's inner wolf decides you're the one? So I gave it time. And several months after that awkward and fate-filled New Year's party on first beach I submitted to the imprint. And I don't view it as a bad thing. I hardly jumped headlong into this like Kim did and I definitely didn't fight it and submit nearly as quick as Emily. Paul is maybe the only one that gets anything close to a decent look at how the other relationships progressed – and the wolves are very fond of keeping their imprinted lives personal. But I suppose we developed as naturally and normally as possible given the circumstances.

From my first days back in La Push I had a new found and built-in support system. One that I was skeptical of, but intrigued by. I don't regret pursuing a relationship with Paul and I'm glad we moved slowly. And although I'm sure he would have been game for almost anything, he always went along with my wacky ideas. For months we were chaste and friendly and I cried on his lap and argued with him and smacked him around. For months he worried incessantly about my being attacked again and detoured around my property during his patrols.

But all the ragged bumps evened out as we trod them down. They're still there: he still worries and I still argue with him a lot, but it's a pattern and one we've become used to. Or almost, dare I say, happy?

I don't know what I was expecting when I came January after I finished school. It sure as heck wasn't a lifelong romantic commitment or vampires or my brother's sordid love life. But despite it's ridiculousness, I'm glad I know.

I'm glad I came home.

The End.