Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

ᴀʟʀɪɢʜᴛ, ʏ'ᴀʟʟ, ʜᴇʀᴇ ɪᴛ ɪꜱ. ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ɪɴ ᴍɪɴᴅ ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪᴛ ɪꜱɴ'ᴛ ᴀ ᴛᴡɪʟɪɢʜᴛ ʙᴏᴏᴋ ɪꜰ ɪᴛ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ 🤏 ᴄʀɪɴɢᴇ, ᴍᴇʟᴏᴅʀᴀᴍᴀᴛɪᴄ, ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴏᴀᴘ ᴏᴘᴇʀᴀ-ʏ. ᴏʜ, ᴀɴᴅ ɪꜰ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇꜱᴇ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ꜱᴇᴇᴍ ᴏᴏᴄ ᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴄᴇɴᴇꜱ ᴀʀᴇɴ'ᴛ ᴅɪʀᴇᴄᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴠɪᴇ/ʙᴏᴏᴋꜱ, ᴛʜᴇɴ ɪᴛ'ꜱ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴍʏ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴᴀʟ ꜱᴘɪɴ. ɪꜰ ᴛʜᴀᴛ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴊᴀᴍ, ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴀ-ᴏᴋᴀʏ 👌. ɪꜰ ɪᴛ ɪꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴊᴀᴍ, ᴀʟʟᴏᴡ ᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴏɴᴛɪɴᴜᴇ ᴍᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴇᴀɴᴜᴛ ʙᴜᴛᴛᴇʀ.

It was 3:00 a.m. when Hanu was jolted into consciousness. Something in his blood shouted for him to wake up and lend aid to a brother in need. Without hesitation, the man whipped out of bed and ran out of his home, not bothering to change out of his pajamas or even close his front door.

The man with russet skin and dark hair bolted through the beachside village, coming to a tumbling stop in front of the Uley homestead. Without needing to announce his presence, Allison Uley was already there, opening the door with an urgent expression passing her typically soft features. Hanu marched past her, following the direction his soul was guiding him. He came to a door at the end of the hall, where he could already hear the tortured sounds of Sam Uley from behind it.

After jiggling the handle, he found it locked as was customary for any teenager. Hanu's icy blue eyes narrowed. Without fanfare, he bashed his shoulder into the hardwood and brought it onto the floor. Immediately, he spotted the eighteen-year-old writhing on the floor and was at his side in a flash.

"You're alright, Sammy," He murmured, feeling his forehead with the back of his hand. His theory was confirmed by the scorching temperature he felt emanating from Sam's body.

"Uncle... Shooey...?" The teenager murmured, voice hoarse from screaming.

"Yeah, it's me, kiddo." He gingerly swept back the boy's sweaty bangs from his face. "C'mon, we're getting you out of here." He latched his arms under Sam's back and knees, lifting him with ease.

"...hospital?" Sam muttered.

"Not exactly," Hanu replied, stepping into the living room. He exchanged a nod with Allison, "Inform the Elders. Make sure to warn the other bloodlines: Black, Call, Cameron, Ateara, Lahote, Clearwater, all of them. We don't want another shift happening without knowing at least a week in advance." He told the woman.

"But Seth is only fourteen." Allison protested.

"And you seem to have forgotten your history lessons, Al." Hanu retorted with a teasing brow raised.

Allison ran a hand through her hair. "Yes, I remember you shifted at eight. But these times aren't comparable to those of Taha Aki." She sighed.

"I don't see why not. Considering the Cullen's return, and their increased number, I would say that the shifting turnout may even beat Ephraim's pack count." He said with a grim glance at the pained Sam, who was squirming in his arms.

Allison's face did something complicated at the mention of the vampires. "Alright. I'll make the rounds. But I'm leaving the Olympic Coven to you."

Hanu nodded without much argument. He'd been the diplomat between the Quileutes and the Cullens for– hell, he's lost track. The Cullens first arrived in Forks around 1935, and after a year of hostility and petty remarks, they finally made a treaty with Ephraim in '36. It was now 2005, so that's– hm. Damn, he's bad at math. You'd think after centuries of walking the earth, he'd be somewhat proficient in the cursed subject.

After a few moments of mental struggle, he counts out that it's been 69 years of back and forth between the Elders and the leader of the Olympic Coven, Carlisle Cullen. The name sent a spark of excitement as it always did. But along with that serotonin rush came something more bittersweet.

A great sigh of bone-deep tiredness escaped him. Years of guiding, protecting, and leading the new generation have taken their toll on him. He carried Sam for a while until they reached the thick forest that separated the La Push coastal lands from Forks. The man carefully laid the boy on a blanket he had set up the previous day when he received the call from Allison about Sam having a boiling fever and severe body aches. In a bag nearby, there was some calorie-rich food and bottles of water for the post-shift.

"You got this, kid. It's alright." He didn't know if his words were having any effect. He was a bit out of practice when it came to helping a young one through the first shift, considering the last shifters he dealt with were Ephraim, Quil II, and Levi.

Ever since he bade farewell to his pack and Taha all that time ago, it had been just him as the only shifter and lone protector of the Quileute lands until several centuries later when a group of vampires first moved to Forks. The presence of their natural enemy prompted the Spirit Wolves above to bestow the Gift to Ephraim Black, Quil Ateara II, and Levi Uley.

And just as he had for countless descendants in the past, Hanu was there to pass on the knowledge of their bloodline. Except, for the first time in generations, his teachings included the aspects of shifting, the pack's mental link, and adjusting to the vast change in body structure. He coached Ephraim on his responsibilities as alpha, taught Quil his supportive role as beta, and instructed Levi on his position as Third.

Hanu wasn't a member of Ephraim's pack. He was, as the Elders referred to him, the Keeper—a retainer of wisdom, knowledge of the past, and sustainer of Taha Aki's legacy, the last Great Spirit Chief. There were many more titles the Elders or textbooks labeled him with, but those were the most popular ones.

Not that it mattered. As far as anyone knew, Shoemowetochawcawe Hanu Aki, righthand beta and soul brother to Taha Aki, was just as much of a myth as Shifters and Cold Ones were. Just Quileute stories that parents told their children to foster a sense of pride in their ancestry. That is, until they grew up and brushed off the stories as fairy tales.

"Unc... Shoo..." Sam's broken whisper snapped him out of his reminiscence. It made his heart twist. Sam had always been a stoic and serious young man; seeing him so... vulnerable made him want to take the boy's pain for himself. The kid's arms were shaking as they blindly searched for his hand, which he quickly offered and let him squeeze. It brought him back to the days of a younger Sam, the ten-year-old who was always begging to ride on his shoulders and for the affection his father never gave him—the time before Sam was forced to grow up too quickly.

"I'm here, Sammy. I'm right here. Just let go, don't fight it." He was well aware he wasn't making any sense to his adoptive nephew, but it was all he could offer at that moment.

Sam let out another shout of pain, sounding more animalistic this time. His skin rippled as bones snapped and shifted underneath his russet flesh. Large muscles that would take months to form grew instantaneously on his arms, chest, and legs. Sharp canines shot from his gums, and fur burst from his pores, covering him in a thick black pelt. With a final tortured scream, his sweat-soaked pajamas tore into shreds as he fell onto his four new limbs and collapsed onto the ground, panting heavily.

"Sam?" Hanu called out to him. He knew better than to touch him after the first shift.

Wide, panicked eyes in the brightest shade of hazel snapped to him. Ears folded back and large teeth barred at him with a warning growl as his base instinct kicked in to hide his fear. Hanu held up his hands placatingly, "I know you're confused and frightened, Sam. But you need to shift back. I'll explain everything after, promise."

Sam was still hunched down, legs tensed and ready to pounce. But he stopped snarling and stared at the man with hesitation. His mind was running a mile a minute. It was clear that Uncle Shooey knew what the hell was happening to him. The man never broke a promise to him, but this was something else entirely. Supernatural. How could he trust him to be honest with... whatever this insanity was?

Hanu could see the torn look in Sam's sharp eyes. "Can you close your eyes for a sec, kid?"

The black wolf held a wary gaze, but reluctantly shut his eyes. The shifting of fabric hitting the ground reached his sensitive ears along with a heavy thump.

Open 'em. Came a voice in his mind. Sam startled, jumping back as his uncle's warm, gravely voice rang through his head. His eyes snapped around, as if searching for the origin, only to land on another wolf that definitely hadn't been there before. Its arctic fur almost glowed in the moonlight pouring through the trees above. The pure white faded into a pitch black along the tips of the ears, tail, and halfway down the legs. The coloring was strange and unlike anything he had seen from the Canis Lupus section of his textbook.

Uncle? He threw the thought out in the open, unsure of how to communicate in this form.

The other wolf nodded to him. It's me, kiddo.

What the fuck. Came Sam's completely reasonable reply. The other wolf, who was somehow his Uncle Shooey, made a noise that could have been the canine version of a snort.

Congrats. Yer a shifter, Sam. Hanu decided to rip off the band-aid. Sam never liked beating around the bush, anyway.

What. The teenager deadpanned.

The white wolf tilted his head, making the necklace around his neck jingle. It looked ancient and tribal, with gold plates and small pieces of turquoise. An earring with an azure feather was pinned through the right ear– the same earring his Uncle Shooey had as a two-legger. The man had worn it for as long as Sam had known him, which was from birth. Whenever he asked about it, he only received increasingly ridiculous stories in return, each more unbelievable than the last.

"Oh, this? I won it in an underground kangaroo fighting ring in Australia."

"This earring has the feather of a phoenix who wanted to thank me for saving it from poachers in the heights of the Himalayas."

"I won it from one of those cereal box contests."

"Stole it from a wizard while he was on lunch break."

And a particularly memorable one: "It's the symbol of my authority over the Quileute tribe. Taha Aki gave it to me before he passed into the Spirit Realm."

Hanu would be rubbing his neck awkwardly if his wolf legs could bend that way. Actually... that last one was true. He admitted.

Sam stared at him. So, after years of stupid stories, the final one you came up with was real?

Hanu tilted his head again, which Sam realized was a wolf shrug. You had just turned seventeen. I figured you were old enough to know the truth.

Sam plopped onto his hindquarters, closed his eyes, and breathed in deeply. Tell me everything—no more lies.

Hanu nodded and lay down, folding his paws in front of him. He had told many nighttime stories to Sam as a child, but this one would take longer than any of the ones he had narrated before. Several centuries ago, I was born alongside Taha Aki. Back then, we were called soul brothers, but these days we would be labeled as 'fraternal twins' as we didn't look alike. I was the older twin, but a sign from the Spirit Wolves said Taha was to be the next alpha. I never really cared for leadership, so I accepted my beta position as his right-hand without complaint. For countless years, we fought side by side, warding off evil entities from our sacred lands. Vampires, poltergeists, lingering spirits, witches, demons, wraiths, banshees, liches, you name it, we've probably collected a hunting trophy from it.

Sam was overwhelmed. How is that possible? I've only heard of half of those things, and it's all been from TV or video games.

Hanu hummed. Not many of them remain today. The largest population is the vamps. Witches come in second, but most of them are just regular people who hold enough arcane energy to perform spells. Not many practice witchcraft, and even fewer are aware of their bloodline potential.

Sam's furry head moved back to stare at the moon above. This.. this isn't real. This has to be a dream...

Hanu snout ducked down with empathy. He stood and moved over to the despondent teenager and gently nudged his head against Sam's. I'm sorry, Sammy. This is as real as it gets. It's funny, though, I had the same thought when I first turned.

Sam's eyes flickered to him. Really?

Yeah. The existence of shifters was more evident and widely accepted back in my time, but I never expected that the Spirit Wolves would choose me to receive the Gift of our bloodline.

Gift, Sam's scoff sounded like a huff. Is that what they call it?

That's what they referred to it as, yes. I know it doesn't feel like one, Sam, but keep in mind that my time was different from yours. Back then, our world was wracked with evil and dangerous creatures. Before the Wolf Spirits decided to aid us, we were just a bunch of regular human beings desperately defending our land from supernatural species with superior strength and trickery. It was our saving grace to even the scales and be able to fight back without losing several of our men for each battle.

Sam's ears went flat sheepishly. I didn't think of that.

Hanu shook his furry head, making his feather flutter and chieftain necklace clink. Don't worry about it, Sammy. I can't expect you to consider the state of the world from over seven centuries ago.

Sam looked him over. I noticed that your appearance never really changed, but no one seemed to question it. I guess now I know why. He thought sardonically. But how old are you? They never gave a direct estimate of when Taha Aki was alive.

Hanu's irises, the color of icebergs, looked inexplicably older and tired in that moment. I've forgotten myself, Sammy. Here, they danced with humor. But I can tell you that our calendars were carved murals on stone walls. That should say enough.

Damn. You're older than all of the Elders put together. Came Sam's incredulous voice.

Hanu whipped his snout to the side in his wolf's version of a scoff. Those young'ins weren't even an itch in their daddy's daddy's grandfather's ballsack when I reached my second century. But if I had to give a rough estimate, I'm around... 700 with some change. It's hard to tell when birth certificates weren't a thing until the mid-19th century, and you had to walk multiple miles to see what day it was on a stone wall in the Cave of Recollection.

Sam squinted. You know, when my mother gets into her 'back in my day, I had to walk uphill through forty-seven miles of snow and climb Mount Everest to get to school' lectures, I usually think she's exaggerating. But I have the worst feeling that everything you're saying about your childhood might be sugarcoating it.

One side of Hanu's muzzle lifted in an odd variation of a wry grin. There might've been a slight embellishment to fit your modern sensibilities.

Sam was pleased to find he could still roll his eyes. Fine. Whatever. How do I change back?

Alright, first lesson: The Wolf-to-Human Shift. You'll be pleased to know that it is infinitely easier than the first shift.

Well, hallelujah. Sam monotoned.

Smartass. Imagine yourself on all fours. Yes, it sounds weird, I know, just go with it. Think about how you're a wolf with four points of balance holding yourself up. Now, imagine that you're a wolf that is standing on its back legs. Two points of balance now. Turn those four paws into two feet.

Sam took a deep breath, let his eyes close, and ducked his muzzle as he focused on the mental image of his black wolf hopping to its hind legs. Something violently shook inside him, and his startled, dog-like yelp melted into a human noise of surprise as the fur retreated, leaving him with the familiar russet skin, fingers, and toes. He tried to stand, only for his shaky legs to give out on him. Strong hands caught him before he could crash to the ground.

"Easy there, Sammy." Uncle Shooey's familiar voice soothed as he carefully guided him into a sitting position. As Sam sat on the forest floor, it was only then that he noticed his distinct lack of clothing. The brief flicker of mortification left him, overtaken by shock as he took in the drastic changes his human body had undergone. He had already been pretty toned for a boy his age, but the shift seemed to enhance those features. Corded muscles wrapped around his limbs and his torso had hardened into a wall of chiseled musculature so rock hard it could probably absorb the impact of a punch without issue.

"Wha..." He trailed off, blinking rapidly at himself.

Hanu scratched his head. "Oh, uh, yeah, I probably should've warned you about that. It's one of the reasons that the first shift smarts like a motherfucker. With so many muscles piling on you all at once, it feels like your body is one giant twisting cramp. Combined with the whole bone restructuring... yeah, it's shit." He finished lamely. "Oh, and you should go bare before shifting. Clothes are nothing more than shreds if you leave them on."

Sam slowly looked up at him. Despite his casual attitude from before, it seemed the shock of the situation was catching up to him.

"Here," Hanu threw him a pair of shorts, along with an apple, some water, and four hamburgers. Normal people might find it excessive, but he knew the post-shift hunger like no one else. And the first one always left you feeling like you hadn't eaten in decades.

Sam quickly snapped out of Lalaland and hurriedly pulled the basketball shorts over his bare hips. He noticed that his uncle was clad in his plaid pajama pants, the ones he always wore, claiming he ran too hot to sleep with a shirt. And, feeling the intense warm burning under his skin, Sam knew that many of his sleep shirts wouldn't be seeing any use for a while. Taking a cursory look at their surroundings, he only then realized the late hour. "Did you wake up in the middle of the night for this?"

"Rushed straight out of my bed," Uncle Shooey confessed with a one-shouldered shrug. "Could feel my wolf shouting that you needed me."

Sam was startled by the heartfelt admission, "...thanks. But why are we in the middle of– here?" He still wasn't sure where the hell they were.

Uncle Shooey chuckled and patted his shoulder. "Shifts aren't always as straightforward as yours. Some are understandably panicked and tend to run off when they turn into a four-legged animal. It's procedure to bring the shifter to a secluded area, far away from residential areas. Wouldn't want an emotionally-charged predator near the commonfolk, yeah?"

Sam sighs, "Yeah. That makes sense. But do you know the way back? I still have to go to school and would like to scavenge whatever sleep I can get." The scent of food reached his heightened senses, and he spotted the meal at his feet. Almost unconsciously, he tore into the food with fervor and made a pleased sound as the pangs of hunger in his stomach were sated with each bite.

Hanu smiled at the sight of his nephew's messy face with bits of food sticking to his cheeks. "Yeah. I know where we are. You'll eventually learn the land as you explore more. It won't be much of a heartache, your wolf will always call for the wild."

"I have school and football, I don't have time for running around in the forest." Sam protested.

Hanu only smiled knowingly. "'I have a responsibility to the tribe and the battlefront, I cannot turn tail for a romp through the trees.' A direct quote from me shortly after my first shift. Looking back, I complained more to the Spirit Wolves than to my parents. They were probably sick of me praying to them just to talk about how annoying Taha was or how boring patrol could be." He laughed lightly.

"They responded to you?" Sam asked through a mouthful of hamburger. "They're just a myth these days."

Hanu nodded, "Yeah, there was a pretty steady correspondence. There were more threats back then, so it makes sense. Nowadays, the most pressing concerns are global warming and student debt. Not really things spiritual wolf deities can assist you with." He smirked.

"Fair enough," Sam grunted. "Is there anything I should know about... this?" He gestured vaguely to their surroundings.

"Much more, but it's already late, so I'll give you the key notes. C'mon, we'll walk and talk." He offered Sam a hand up, which he took.

They collected the teen's ruined clothes and left the forest. Sam ate and listened to his uncle's words as they walked back to the Uley house. His disbelief grew with each subject the man brought up. Imprints? Moon cycles? Pack dynamics? None of this stuff was mentioned in the nighttime stories he had as a kid. Then again, he always fell asleep around the point when Taha Aki and his soul brother slayed the feared lich king.

"Wait." Sam stopped him. "You said that you were Taha Aki's brother... does that mean you're–"

"Shoemowetochawcawe? Yeah."

Sam stared at him. "I don't think I have enough energy in me to be surprised anymore." He sighed. "I wondered where 'Shooey' came from when your name was Hanu. And I always thought it was odd that you didn't have a last name."

Hanu gazed at the stars over the distant sea. "Taking on another name might have helped me keep a low profile in the long run, but it never felt right to hold any name but the one I was born into. I had already lost all of my family and friends to time, and I couldn't bear to part with the last piece of my old life. I was born as Shoemowetochawcawe Hanu Aki, and when my time is up, that's how I'll pass onto the next life."

Sam glanced at him. The grief on his uncle's face wasn't immediately apparent; it was a feeling that had been worn and covered many times. Something old. "I'm sorry." He muttered.

Hanu's lips curled at the edge, "It's not like you could control the unstoppable march of time, Sam. I'm fine, really," He assured the teen. "It's just... you're the first shifter in decades. After all these years of being the only shifter to protect La Push, I suppose I'm feeling... sentimental." He chose the word carefully. "Seeing your wolf brought back a lot of memories. Levi looked just like you, black with hazel eyes that made you feel like you were staring into the sun."

"Levi? As in, my great-grandfather, Levi Uley?" Sam asked, eyebrows raising above his hairline.

"That's the one. Ephraim Black's Third. All around grump with a heart of gold. You're the spitting image of him when he was a teenager. I'll see if I can dig up some old photos of him in the attic."

"...I'd like that," Sam said faintly. He paused before he could let his next question escape his mouth. He's been independent and responsible since Joshua Uley left him and his mother when he was young. Throughout his life, Uncle Shooey had been a constant presence, with his unchanging appearance, taking him to the beach when his mother was at work and showing up at his school when his class was having a contest where fathers could compete with their children to win prizes. Sitting next to his mother and cheering for him when he won the schoolwide spelling bee. Hell, if he couldn't be vulnerable with his uncle, there probably wasn't anyone in the world. His mother had enough on her plate, and Leah... he had to be strong for her.

"Sammy? You left Earth for a while there. You good?" Uncle Shooey asked him.

Sam looked down at the sand between his bare feet. "Uncle Shooey?" He murmured. "Will you– I mean, I know you're probably busy with your job, the tribe, and defending the land, but will you... be around?"

Hanu softened. "Sam, you seem to think that this shifting business is more serious than it is. Our relationship will be the same as it always has been. Just with a little... inside joke between us." He winked. "I'll still be your annoying uncle who's always making dinner when your mother is too tired. I'll still embarrass you in front of your peers by picking you up from school and giving you a big kiss on the forehead. The same will go for Jacob and Quil when they shift. You three are my godchildren, I'm legally bound to irritate you three for the rest of your lives."

Sam will deny the relief and comfort he felt from his uncle's reassurance until the day he died. "Ephraim, Quil II, and Levi must have trusted you a lot to ensure their descendants to you." He remarked as they reached his front door.

Hanu sighed, scratching the light stubble on his cheek. "Thinking about how both Billy and his son are my godchildren makes my head hurt. So I tend to just ignore it and give them random presents and tell awful jokes like any uncle would. Billy is used to it since he's known me since childhood, but I can only imagine Jacob's reaction when he finds out he and his father share an uncle."

The taller man's shoulders slumped, and he adopted a lamenting expression. "It's an endless chain of generations hocking their children onto me. As soon as Ephraim Jr. was born, Ephraim was already demanding my signature on the relations document. Then, lo and behold, before little Billy Black could even let loose his first scream, Junior was holding my sleep hostage and calling me every single night before I gave in and signed away the next eighty years of my life to yet another child. And that's not even accounting for the heartache the Atearas and Uleys have put me through!" He threw his arms up in exasperation.

Sam stifled a smile at his uncle's dramatic display. "So when Jacob, Quil Ⅴ, and I were born...?"

Hanu scowled at him. "Boy." He warned.

A small laugh escaped Sam. The feeling surprised him; he couldn't remember the last time he had felt this lighthearted and without burden. But his uncle always had a way of bringing out the child in him. It was probably because Uncle Shooey tended to arrive when he was getting too stuck in his head, always barging into his room, scoffing at his pile of textbooks, and dragging him outside for ice cream at the pier despite his protests that he wasn't ten anymore.

"You're never too old for ice cream, Sammy!"

For some reason, those words had always stuck with him. It served as a reminder not to turn into an old man at the height of his adolescence. It even encouraged him to join the football team when he turned sixteen, and he agreed to a date with Leah after the Clearwater girl asked him out following one of his games. Both choices had brought some light to his world, and he was thankful for his uncle, though he would never say it because the man would turn into a hug monster and be even more unbearable on the occasions he picked him up from school.

After Uncle Shooey bid him goodnight with a warm hand mussing his hair and a fatherly smile, Sam entered his house. He was met with the sight of his harried mother sitting on the couch with the landline clutched tightly in her hand.

"Yes, Sam's has– yes. Spirit Chief Hanu came and got him in the nick of time. I don't know when he'll be back; I hope it's soon. Yes, make sure to call him if Embry shows the slightest hint of a fever. We don't want this to happen again. Mhm, goodnight, Tiffany." Allison let the call drop and sighed tiredly. She was about to punch in the number to the Cameron household when she caught sight of her son from the corner of her eye. She gasped in surprise as she took in his sudden growth and matured features. The woman didn't hesitate for long, however, as she rushed to check on her boy, turning his face in her hands, looking for any external injury or marks.

"Mom, mom," Sam stopped her frantic movement, gently grabbing her hands, mindful of his new strength. "I'm fine." He said softly.

"Did– Did Hanu tell you?" She asked, biting her lip.

Sam nodded, "Yes. He explained everything. It's– I didn't believe it at first, but it was a bit difficult to keep that mindset when I was covered in fur and standing on four paws." He shook his head.

Allison let out a startled laugh, "I–yes, I guess it would be. Are you... okay, Sam? I've heard stories about the first shift, and it's never pleasant."

His mother never appreciated bullshit, something he had inherited, so Sam gave her the truth. "It felt like I was being torn from the inside out. Like a thousand serrated knives were carving into me." He shuddered at the memory. "Uncle Shooey got me through it. After the shift, he talked me through the reverse transformation. We talked for a while, he told me who he was, the history of our tribe, and some specifics about being a shifter. He said he would tell me more when we were more rested." He shrugged.

Allison nodded, looking pained at Sam's description of his shift. "That's good. Maybe you two could talk more tomorrow." She suggested.

Sam shook his head, "I have school tomorrow. It would have to wait until the afternoon."

"Sam, you just went through your first shift." His mother protested. "The Elders can let the school know about your absence, and you won't even get a mark on your attendance record."

A heavy breath escaped Sam, and his shoulders slumped. "Mom, I would like to pretend I'm a normal kid and just go to school, study topics I won't ever use in adulthood, and just hang out with my friends."

"I– alright. If that's what you want." Allison reluctantly agreed, her concern still present on her face.

Sam gave her a tired smile and lumbered to his room. He took in his torn bed sheets and his rug, crumpled up from where his body had been twisting in agony. He rubbed his arm as he recalled waking up to an unbearable pain radiating in his core and the sensation of lava pouring over his skin. With a deep exhale, he lay down on his ruined sheets and kicked the comforter from his bed, feeling warm enough without the covers. It took a while, but the stress of the night eventually caused him to fall into a deep sleep.

On the other side of the town, Hanu was on his porch, taking swigs from a bottle of whiskey that had been a gift from a friend. He had long learned that alcohol had little effect on a system that burned through calories like a flame to gasoline. He mostly drank it for the taste at this point.

"Another generation of shifters is on the horizon." He murmured. "Wonder what you would think of Sam, Taha. He's just as headstrong and independent as you were."

The sun peeked over the horizon of the ocean. A small smile appeared at the edge of his mouth. "I know Quil would be teasing Levi over how similar he and his great-grandson were while Ephraim rolled his eyes in he background." The faces of his loved ones from years long past flashed through his mind.

Something heavy welled in his chest, and he got up from his old rocking chair with a heavy sigh. "Ah, well, just another opportunity to make more memories. Might as well have some stories to tell the next generation of kids when the time rolls around." Speaking of, I gotta call Carlisle later and update him. Need to tell Sam as well. Don't need any new trigger-happy shifters going after the Cullens if they smell them.

Hanu ran a hand through his black locks, feeling his yawning lifespan like a lead weight on his shoulders. He tossed the empty bottle into the metal trash bin by his fire pit and entered his house, falling into bed just as the dawn sun rose over the churning waves.