𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬. sam uley

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲-𝐨𝐧𝐞

Sam returns to the forest the next day as a human. His sneakers crunch through the forest, his growing hair pulled half-up behind him. It's hot, sweat perspiring on his forehead and down his back, but he doesn't stop until he finds the spot where Ez was.

Seth isn't present, mostly because Sam hasn't seen him since he left, hasn't wanted to disturb him. The sadness in him is a disease, and Sam wants it gone as soon as possible, needs him to have Sage back. The kid is clearly tortured by her absence.

Sam wipes his brow, standing against a tree. He waits, leaning against the rough bark, praying and hoping that he wasn't wrong about Ez's words. Apprehension eats away at him, though. What if Ez can't come back? How long is it between their visits? Is Sam even going to be able to see him?

A sigh escapes his lips, his chest heavy. It's pressure, a steady ache that presses on his lungs and stutters his breath. Sam could be wrong about it, but he doesn't want it to have to be Seth. Seth is too young, too innocent. He doesn't deserve the shadows of death that comes with being a shapeshifter. It had already pained him to have to kill Riley in the battle, even though he would have done it over and over again if it meant Bella was safe. Sam didn't want to add a human to that small roster.

(And Ez is right. If Seth was the one to do it, it would destroy Sage if it did work. Sam would never do that to either of them.)

He stands there for hours before he hears a crunch.

When Sam turns his head slightly, Ez flickers into his vision, blinking in and out like it's a struggle to stay present. He gives Sam a timid smile.

"You figured it out." Ez doesn't go for a greeting. Sam is relieved. He didn't want to spend time on small talk, either. "What are you going to do?"

"Kill him," Sam says easily.

"He's. . . human," Ez says slowly, a cautious tone in his voice.

Sam stares at him for a moment, then a moment longer. Ez glances away. There's something sticky and heavy in him, but he ignores it. He'd do it ten times over it meant Sage came back whole.

Ez sighs, far too old to be ten or eleven years old. "My--there's a loophole. You just have to kill him in the same meadow where Sage was. . . Burn him, the usual. Like you'd kill one of them."

Sam nods, mind racing. This is simple to him but the question remained: How was he going to get Aro out to the meadow? The last Sam heard was that the Cullens had him locked up tight in their glass house, allowing him to live as though Sage didn't give her life to make it happen. There is no way they'd allow Sam near the house to even obtain the vampire.

"I heard they were going hunting," Ez says suddenly, his voice echoing as though he were farther away. "Seth mentioned it. Said the one named Rosalie stays with her mate Emmett to watch the child. The house will be empty. . ."

Blinking, Sam turns his head to give Ez his gratitude, but when he looks up, Ez has disappeared.

❧

Ez didn't give Sam much to work with. He only said the house was going to be empty, not when. So, Sam goes home, gets in the shower, and then sleeps for the night. The next morning, when he wakes up with his back hurting and his eyes stinging, he prepares to stake out the Cullen's house again.

The treaty that was created so long ago meant nothing now, perhaps even rendered unnecessary due to everything that had happened a year ago. Sam hated vampires once upon a time, but he had become indifferent towards the Cullens. It is only now that a deep rage simmers beneath him so angrily that he fears he will shift in his tiny house.

He walks into the kitchen, gaze sharpened and sees his mother sitting over a hot cup of coffee, reading the newspaper.

"Are you going to kill a man, Sam Uley?" she asks, not looking up.

Sam swallows thickly. His throat dry, he goes over to the sink and makes a glass of water. He chugs it, then wipes it off his mouth, sighing out. Something heavy coats the room as his mother's words settle over them.

"Ma," he chokes out, eyes watering. He hopes his mother won't try to make him change his mind. Not only would it not stop him, but the thought of his mother at home, hurting, while he took the life of what she considered to be human, shot bitter agony through him. "He. . . what he did to Sage, Ma--"

"I am not going to try and stop you, dreamcatcher," she soothes as Sam walks over. She runs a hand over his long hair, placing it behind his eyes. "I just need you to know what you're getting yourself into. What it means for you."

And Sam closes his eyes, because while he had thought about what it meant for Seth, he hadn't thought about what it meant for him--what the council had drilled into his head repeatedly when he shifted for the first time. When he became what he was.

He doesn't answer. His mother presses a kiss on his cheek, patting his cheek lovingly. "If it was anyone else, I would tell you no, Sam. But she is needed here. If there is a bargain to be made. . ."

Kill him.

Sam stares at his mother, his strong-willed mother, who always made sure Sam was provided for with what little they had. She looks at him now, and he sees so much in her dark eyes that it makes him want to weep. There is support and love, so blinding he has to close his eyes and hold her close, his breaths shuddering.

"I need her," he says, whispers, breathes. "I need her back, Ma."

"Me, too," she whispers. Then, "But you have to talk to your pack."

And Sam does cry, then, slow trickles falling out of his eyes. They burn and ache, and he thinks it's glass cutting into his skin, but he is starting to forget Sage's laughter so he presses through the pain and says, "I will."

He hopes they understand.