𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬. sam uley

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧

Esme, in her sweet voice that has venom laced underneath, says, "Enough boys."

Sam laughs at Edward's assumption that Elis is going through something, and even Leah seems to snort at it. Emmett claps his brother on the back with a, "Tough luck, Cupid."

"Shut up, Emmett," Elis mutters, slapping the hand away. "Also stop laughing, Leah. Sam. It's not funny. Edward's a dick."

"He does have a point, though," Sam points out, leaning back against the warm window.

"Does not!"

"He really does, El," Leah says, pushing a hand through his hair. The quarrel that they had went through all those weeks ago has been pushed under the bridge, and now they seem more in love than ever. Sam pushes away the sting in his heart, swallows hard and stares at a rabbit running through the forest.

Sam's ears perk up once more as he hears, "He's not going to hurt you. Carlisle did say you were safest with the wolves, right?" It's Edwards voice, soft for comfort. Sam's entire body freezes with shame.

"Well, yes, but. . . He seemed to hate me more than the Leah girl. And He's huge," she says, but it's so low that Sam may have misheard it. "Like terrifyingly big. He's got arms bigger than my thigh, Edward!" Emmett snorts at this, laughing into his hand as Sam grimaces, pressing a hand to his arm. Surely, they aren't that big. "He wants to kill me."

Sam grunts at this, closing his eyes as his entire body fills with regret and shame. He thinks about what his mother said and wonders how to take back malice in his actions. It's not that he necessarily regrets them, but perhaps he could have made it to where she wasn't terrified of him to the point that she thinks he wants her dead.

(Which, okay, he hasn't ever wanted her dead. Maybe wanted the imprint gone and for her to be absent in his life, but never dead. Sam is not heartless.)

Edward laughs upstairs, and at his comment of, "Sorry, sorry. I'm not laughing at you, I swear. I am amused at the idea that you think Sam wants to kill you," everyone starts laughing. Sam rubs a hand over his face and prays that the floor opens up and swallows him into an abyss that he will never be able to escape from.

But then something clambers upstairs, and Edward says, "It would be so easy to kill you, you know. Elis wouldn't care. He doesn't even remember you. I'm sure Bella and Carlisle would be the most upset-well, and Seth-but they'd get over it. It'd be so easy. I could get it over with before Sam gets the chance."

For a moment, Sam imagines it. Edward, up there, snapping her neck in half. Lighting a match. Burning her until she is nothing. He should feel relief, but instead a steady cold invades his body, and everything turns dark. Bleak. Like it's dulled. His stomach heaves and there's a desire to throw up.

"Then do it," Sage challenges, and Sam can't take it anymore.

He leaves the house, slamming the door behind him, and as soon as he's out in the open, he shifts, clothes ripping from his body like they were made of nothing.

They say that losing an imprint is like losing a part of you, but Sam was never told what would happen at the thought of it. He can't stop imagining the vampire dying, over and over again, body burning as life is cruelly taken away from her. He doesn't know why, but he hates the thought of it, can't stand seeing the defeat in her eyes even if it is fake. Hates that Edward even teased killing her.

Hates that she thinks Sam is going to kill her.

Why?

He shakes his head, dismisses the thought from his head, heart racing in his chest. It feels like there's something wrapping around it, like the muscle is being pulled into some force that's making him feel like he can't breathe. He runs until his four legs can't keep up anymore, runs until the thought of the vampire dying fades from his mind. Only then can he breathe easier, his body lighter as he rests in a town some miles away from Forks.

To stop himself from doing something foolish, like running to the vampire's side to assure her that he will not kill her. Will never lay a hand on her precious-no, her cold­­-skin until she-

Until she what? Sam chides himself. Until she gives him permission? Until she's ready for him to welcome himself into her life?

No, Sam should be asking something else. Should be saying that he will not lay a hand on her unless she forces him to. Unless she becomes a danger to the people he loves. He shouldn't-he's not supposed to accept the imprint.

But he can't help but think, can't help but ponder about the fear she had. Surely, if she so desired, she could kill Sam without thinking about it. Her shadows are stronger than a normal vampire and could most certainly take him and everyone else out if she wished to kill them. But here she is, doting on Seth, trying to help Esme in the kitchen even though the woman never needs it. She talks softly to Emmett, laughs at his awful jokes, but never comes downstairs. Never takes a step out of her bedroom if Sam is there.

Was that because. . .? Has Sam terrified her so much that she felt like she couldn't come out and open herself up to the others? Has he been that resilient in meeting her, in getting to know her?

How much has he hurt her?

He shouldn't care about it, shouldn't be worried about a leech, but he thinks about how she is hunting right now. How she told Carlisle that she would try to live a life that she knew nothing about-all for her brother. She has hurt no one as promised, has kept to herself, so unlike the monster who attacked Irina at the hearing.

Sam compares the two. The vampire at the hearing stared at them with cold eyes, but this vampire-Sage-looked down shyly when she met Sam. And her eyes were blood red, but she was still the epitome of perfection with her smooth porcelain skin and long, brown hair that was caked with grime from her travels. So unlike the first vampire.

It was as though a switch had been turned. As though a torch had been lit. As though the façade finally melted into something else entirely. Something human.

He thinks about his mother's words, about her scathing her and anger at Sam. At her insistence that the vampire might not have been able to choose her life. How much of that is true?

How wrong has Sam been about Sage?

How does he apologize for it, for his harshness directed towards her?