CATALINA, paul lahote

I CAN HELP

[ alteratively : fairytale ]

IT WAS TEN, FIFTEEN WHEN CATA got received the text; bella's hurt was all Rosalie could bring herself to type. Cata would kill her, would kill Jasper. Would kill Edward. When she arrived and saw the blood seep from Bella's arms.

Catalina could only grip onto Paul's forearm that circled around her waist as her eyes scanned the screen, her body tensing under his arms. "What is it?" He asked over the sound of the music, his mouth ducking to her ears so she could hear him. It was lucky really, because  Cata felt like her head was underwater - she could barely hear her friends talking, her friends laughing anymore  - her eyes just zeroed in on the text that still lit up her phone.

It went black.

"Cat, you okay baby?"

His arms felt too hot over her all of a sudden, the jumper that Genie had offered her doing nothing to help. She stood, her eyes too focussed on the blank phone screen to see the frown on Paul's face as their skin disconnected. "You alright?" Tyler asked next, his chin tilted up so he could see her where she'd broken the  circle.

"Cata?" Nell followed their lead, all eyes now on the girl. The laughter had fallen quiet.

"S- sorry." She stuttered, her voice breaking as she forced her way through the word, turning to Genie, and then Jared. And then Paul. "Erm, Bella - Bella's had an accident or something." She forced a laugh to show them it wasn't serious when in reality she just didn't fucking know, lilting it on the end as Paul and Jared tense. "Sorry, I'm going to have to go."

"But it's your birthday." Angela pouted, Genie offering her a slight shake of her head as she looked to the Swan who stood in the centre of the room. Her shoulder's tense.

Catalina had never felt more watched in her life - like they were at the theatre and she was the black Swan. She almost smiled despite herself Black Swan. Funny.

"Are you okay to drive?" Nell asked softly, her eyes lingering on the beer that rested against the coaster on the coffee table.

"I've only had one." Cata waved her off, a tight smile on her face as she shook her head. She moved to pull her jacket on, grabbing her bag at her feet.

She missed the way the group looked at one another, concern clouding their eyes.

"I'll drive you." Paul spoke finally, standing up besides her.

Please don't

"Okay." She forced out, nodding quickly as she swooped down to kiss Nell and Genie on the cheeks respectively, waving goodbye to everyone as she hurried out, trying to smile at their wishes that they hoped Bella was better.

"What's happened?" Paul asked as he climbed into the driver's seat, his voice strained as he glanced to her glazed eyes as she stared out the window.

"You can only drop me at the treaty line." Cata replied instead, the tap of her nails against her phone sounding. Paul's fingers flexed against the wheel at her words.

"Why? What happened?" He repeated, missing the bristle of her neck as his words met her ears, the white knuckles that gripped the phone in her hand. "Cata-."

"I don't know!" The brunette finally spoke, her words ricocheting around the car. "I don't know. Okay, Paul? Is that okay? I don't have a fucking clue and I can sit here and feed you some bullshit line about how I'm sure everything's fine. But I couldn't even tell you if I wanted to because the treaty's  might have been breached and I can't let you hurt the vamps." Her head smacked back against the cars head rest, tears threatening to spill from her eyes and she blinked furiously.

Paul Lahote, previously known to be Cata Swan's answer to everything, was of no use  this time.

The silence lay heavy in the car, and this wasn't the kind you could slice through. No, a crane would be needed to break through this.

"I'm sorry." Paul's words finally slid through the car, nestling through the crevices to reach Cata's ears.

"It's not your fault." Her voice came out small and meek, a crack clinging to her voice as her eyes finally caught the slight tremor that pulsed through Paul's body.

His fingers flexed against the wheel. Not now. Not with Cata here.

"Paul?"

He wasn't angry at her. Of course he wasn't. This was Catalina Fucking Swan and she could saw his arm clean off before he'd look at her without adoration in his eyes. It had been like that since preschool and it would be a long, long time (maybe ever!) until it was anything other than that.

No, he was pissed off because his girlfriend (the girl he would give the entire world, and all the stars (but she would only ask for is for him to hold her while she fell asleep and to brush her hair in the morning)) couldn't tell him why she was so close to crying that her breathing came out in soft gasps. All because of some treaty. Some treaty that he would rip to shreds if Catalina Swan was unhappy.

He was pissed off that the girl he loved couldn't look him in the eye and tell  him what upset her when she was sat right next to him. The was a door between them and someone had taken the key and chucked it away over 100 years ago.

"I'm okay." He choked out, the feel of her hand pressing down on his leg battling away the tremors that were shaking through his body.  "I'm sorry. I just- I just want to help."

And he was back to being seven years old, big doe eyes looking up to his mother, the woman  he cherished more than anything in the world.

The woman who stood by the back door, suitcase in hand at 4 am, the purple of her black eye visible in the porch light that ran on a sensor that flickered on even at the rustle of a tree.  He stood, clutching the blanket around his arms, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he looked up to her. The light seemed to surround her hair like a halo.

Take me with you.

I can't. I can't look after you anymore.

I can help.

You can't.

She wasn't to know his father would start to hit him a few months after.

"You're helping me." Cata assured him, eyes flicking to his head before returning to his eyes and Paul could've sworn for a second there that she could read his mind. "I wish this wasn't how our story goes." She frowned lightly."We deserve a fairytale Pickett fence."

Paul shrugged, "We do. But I wouldn't change this for the world."

And they both felt his words, tasting them on their tongue before knowing it was true. Despite the secrecy and the lies and the arguments and the late nights and the tired kisses and cautious glances. They had each other, and it would become apparent (in time) that that was all they really needed.

[ authors note!
sad one ahahha sorry
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