foreign hands. sam uley ✓

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞

Three days later, he talks to his mother about it.

Sam decides not to visit the Cullens at the moment since he can't be trusted with his own words or actions. He does not want to do something he will later regret, so he stays home, sitting with his mother on her day off. They're watching an old sitcom that she loves, and Sam is stewing in his thoughts, slouched on the couch, something he used to do when he was younger. His mother walks in from her shift at the hospital, slinging her keys in the bowl on the counter before sitting beside him.

"What gives, Sam? Why are you moping about?" she asks without preamble.

Sam throws an arm over his eyes, groaning to himself. He doesn't really want to tell her. He remembers her sad eyes when he cried about Leah, when he was reduced to nothing but a trembling body that she could barely hold in her arms. She had hoped that he would find an imprint after he lost Leah, if only to make the pain go away. How is she going to feel when she finds out that he not only imprinted but the thing he imprinted on is a vampire?

He asks about her day at work first, finds out that Paul had visited with Rebecca, who only had a common cold, something that Paul swore was life-threatening. His mother laughs about it, and it makes Sam's lips quirk knowing that Paul is overly protective of what invades Rebecca's body, even though he knows that she is prone to colds and viruses.

"Enough about me, though, Sam. Seriously, what's wrong?" As she questions him again, she heads into the kitchen to pick up some of the dinner that Sam made the two of them. He's not good at cooking, but he tried to whip up some pork chops and sides without burning the house down. It went as well as it should have.

When she sits back down on the couch, Sam says, "I . . . I imprinted, Ma."

She freezes. Out of the corner of his eye, Sam notices her shoulders tense up, her utensils forgotten on the plate that is now sat on the tray in front of her. In a quick moment, she turns to Sam and wraps him up in the biggest hug that he's ever received from her. She kisses his forehead enough times that Sam can feel the ghost of it even when she pulls away.

"Oh, honey, that's great!" she says, a wide grin on her face, rubbing his shoulders. Sam's heart sinks even further even though a part of him is happy that his mother is relieved. "That's really amazing! Who is it?! When do I get to meet the lucky person?"

Her voice is choked up, and Sam hates himself, wonders how long his mother worried about him finding someone after Leah. Wonders how much she wished for him to find someone so he wouldn't have this ache in his chest all of the time.

"I don't know if that's the best idea, Ma," he replies instead of answering her first question. He doesn't want to tell her that his imprint is a monster. Not yet. She's so happy, and her hands are warm on his skin, and he doesn't want her to pull away when he inevitable confesses that she's a cold one. "She's pretty-I don't know if you'd like her too much."

"So, it's a girl, huh?" she asks, finally pulling away. She picks up her fork and knife and starts sawing into the pork chop with vigor. "Why wouldn't I like her? Sam, you imprinted, of course I'm going to love her."

"Ma, you can't automatically love someone just because of an imprint."

"I can and I will, Sam. I'm sure she's a lovely lady. You wouldn't have imprinted if she wasn't." She sticks a piece of pork chop in her mouth and starts chewing, her face screwing up in a grimace that she tries to hide from Sam.

"Imprints can be wrong, you know."

"When has an imprint ever been wrong, Sam?"

Sam stops because he has no answer for that question. From all the stories that he was told when he was younger, his ancestors had thrived with their imprints, content as if the whole world had finally fallen into place. Like a puzzle with the final pieces falling into their respected spots. There had not been one story where they claimed the feelings they had to be wrong.