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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍
TW: Mentions of depression and suicide

    𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐖𝐎 separate times when Bridget felt her depression at its absolute worst. And only one of those times is when she attempted to kill herself for the first time.

    There hadn't been any attempts after that one, but that didn't mean her depression didn't get so bad that she didn't think about it. It was because of a promise she made to the one person who never failed her, who never stopped believing in her, is why she never let those thoughts become a reality ever again.

    When Alex died, she knew she was going to keep that promise for as long as she could. If she ever found a way to break whatever curse had been placed on her, because Alex always believed there was a way. Even when she would lose faith that there was, he would hold onto that faith for the both of them. He was always such a light and he never lost hope. Even after he lost his wife, he never let the depths of darkness overtake him.

    Not like Bridget. Darkness often swept her under until she felt like she was drowning in it. Even at times when she thought her life was actually going good, that she thought maybe she could be happy, loneliness and despair crept up on her and would attack her at those points in her life. It was never that bad when Alex was still alive, despite her attempt had been when he was still living, but after he passed, it happened more often then she cared to admit and only little things would trigger it.

    This time was different. This time, she witnessed something that made her want to crumble inside herself and never come out. The eyes that blinded her from the truth were opened in a very terrifying and cruel way.

    Seeing Jasper in that way... ruthless and savage. After one thing and one thing only... blood. He didn't see a person, Bella was no longer a human being to him. All he saw was food. What lied under her skin, what pulsed through her veins... he wanted to drain her dry. She had seen their eyes turn dark, but Jasper's was a different kind of dark. They were hauntingly black.

    Bridget had remained in her bedroom for only twenty minutes after Rosalie left her, puking the contents from her stomach into the toilet. Esme attempted to check on her, but Bridget refused to see her. She didn't want to see any of them, not at that moment.

    All she knew was she needed to get out of there. She needed air, and she needed to be away from them. There was one place she felt safe, one place she always could rely on.

    She knew the Cullens heard her leave and they didn't try to stop her. But whether they knew she grabbed the bottle of scotch before leaving, she isn't sure. Of course she didn't drink it until after she arrived at the beach. Just because she was living a life of utter misery, doesn't mean she needed to take anyone else out with her.

    She didn't even bother to change, still wearing her silvery green silk dress. She did pull her hair out of the pony and shook it out. She then sat on the beach and downed the rest of the bottle. It was only half full, but it got the job done. To say she was currently drunk was an understatement.

    So many things ran through her head at the moment and she couldn't stop it. Flashes of Bella's paper cut, then the sound of Jasper's vicious growls. Edward slamming both Bella and Jasper back with effortless force. Bella's bleeding arm from the glass and Emmett and Carlisle barely able to restrain Jasper.

    Bridget let out a loud sob, her shoulders shaking, bringing her hands to her face. She was so lost... so completely and utterly lost in this world, in life itself that she didn't know what to do. As the scene replayed over and over again in her mind, it didn't take long before her thoughts to replace Bella with herself, that Jasper had been after her, not Bella.

    Bridget let out a frustrated, loud scream through her gritted teeth, slamming her fist into the sand hard, her cheeks soaked in tears. The loud sound of the waves crashing against the rocks was enough to draw her attention and soon, she was on her feet, nearly falling back down when the dizziness from the alcohol hit her hard.

    She stumbled towards the ocean, already having disregarded her heels somewhere behind her when she got out of the car. The harsh wind made her lose her balance and resulted in her collapsing into the sand more than once. She got up once her feet reached the water. She could barely feel the cold, that's how numb she felt. Either from the alcohol or the numbness already in her chest, she didn't know.

    "Bree, open the door! Open the door!"

    The memory of that day started to resurface, even though she had forced it into the back of her mind for so many years. She could still hear Alex's frantic voice and the phantom banging against the locked bathroom door as clear as day.

    "You are scaring me, Bree."

    Bridget brought her hands to her ears, as if that would block out the memory in some way. Soon, Bridget found herself walking out into water, her dress rising, the salt water was definitely not going to let her wear this dress a second time. She didn't really care at this point.

    "Bree, please..."

    The water reached her waist now and she kept pushing out. The waves were harsh, crashing against her, making it hard for her to stand on her feet. But each time she fell, she got right back up and kept pushing herself out.

    "Bridget... Bridget!"

    She finally stopped when the water now reached just below her neck. She stared out into the open sea, another tear falling down her cheek and everything was numb.

    "What did you do? What did you do?"

    Bridget took a deep breath, Alex words echoing in the back of her mind as she sunk under, letting actual darkness consume her.

    "What did you do?"

    Maybe today will be the day she allows it to stay that way?

    "What did you do?!"

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    𝐏𝐀𝐔𝐋 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 up patrolling the border when he caught her scent. It was a very distinctive scent that was hard to miss, as it carried through the heavy winds. He knew her scent by heart from the moment he met her.

    Bridget Clark is not someone he can easily forget. In the beginning of the imprint, he most definitely tried. But she was a hard person to shake, especially for someone who didn't even live on the reservation. Even with school no longer bringing them in close proximity, resulting in him to steal glances at her whenever he got the chance.

    God, she was so beautiful.

    How someone like her could be paired with him is something Paul couldn't wrap his mind around. Paul has been with his fair share of girls in the past, mainly before he phased. But Bridget Clark... She was a rare kind of beautiful. How someone could possess such soft features yet fierce ones at the same time is beyond him, he didn't know how else to describe her.

    Paul often found himself staring at her from afar. He thought about her constantly, despite not wanting to do so. Keeping his distance from her wasn't at all for his sake, but it was for hers. He didn't want to burden her with someone like him. Some hot-headed, self-sabotaging asshole like himself. Bridget doesn't deserve some meathead like him.

    But still... Paul can't seem to shake her. The imprint bond was unavoidable, both Sam and Jared had told him long before he ever met Bridget. He always thought they were full of shit. They usually were. But not this time. Not as he always found himself waiting by the beach to catch a glimpse of her. She normally would be writing in some journal or reading or even walking along the edge of the water, shoes in her hands and wind blowing her long golden locks back as well as whatever dress or skirt she was wearing. He doesn't think he has ever seen her in pants.

    A rare woman indeed.

    He knew he couldn't avoid the imprint like he originally wanted to when he learned about them. He always told himself that if he was ever to imprint, he would not acknowledge it, just pretend like it didn't exist.

    But he didn't want that. Not anymore. Not when he heard her singing some soft melody that self chills through him even in his wolf form some time in July. He was mesmerized by her. He was fascinated by her. Bridget Clark was a mystery, one he wanted to discover. But he didn't want to discover it by researching her history or asking anyone who might know her. He wanted her to tell him everything about herself. He wanted it to come from her lips, every personal detail. Every flaw and every perfection.

    He wanted her to trust him enough to confide with him and vice versa. He wanted it more than anything.

    Only problem? He didn't know how to get it. Paul had already proven what an ass he had been to her at Emily's party and Sam had drilled into him about how he was most likely the reason she did not accept any of the dinner offers he had extended to her on their jogs on the beach. Paul tried his hardest not to get jealous at the fact. He knew Sam wasn't making any moves on her, not when he had Emily. But it was hard not to be jealous because it seems Sam was bonding with her and he wanted it to be him.

    He was a coward. He knows this. Every opportunity he had to approach her, to apologize for how he acted towards her, he's chickened out. Paul has never had a problem talking to women, mainly because he was never looking for anything more other than a casual fling. In truth... he was terrified of expressing his feelings. He didn't know how to put himself out there. He was good at shielding them.

    But what he wasn't good at was shielding his jealousy and rage. Mainly what he saw at school earlier today was a prime example, when he witnessed Steve Crawford walk right up to his imprint and attempt asking her out. If that wasn't enough to send him flooring, watching as Bridget repeatedly tried turning him down but he wasn't budging is what nearly had him shifting in the middle of the school and tearing him to shreds.

    Luckily, Jared was there to defuse him, but that didn't stop Paul from needing to put a stop to the harassment clearly going on.

    Paul will admit, hearing Bridget tell him she did not need his help then proceeding to tell Steve off was almost as satisfying than anything he would have done to him. Hearing her drill him a new asshole was absolutely glorifying. Then watching as she patted his cheek a bit too roughly before walking away? Paul almost went weak in his knees.

    It was probably the sexiest thing he has ever seen in his life.

    But still, his wrath had not been tamed and he did not let good ol' Steve get away that easily. Which is why when Steve attempted to walk to his friends as they disappeared into the restroom, Paul followed them immediately. He didn't hurt him. He couldn't risk the suspension. He just calmly grabbed a fist of his shirt and not to roughly push him against the tiled walls, one look to his loser friends was enough for them to back off their efforts to help. He made sure Steve nor any of his loser friends attempted that shit on Bridget ever again.

    Jared was waiting outside with a knowing smirk. Paul only told him to shut up before the two went to meet up with Kim. Jared teased him about it endlessly nonetheless.

    Paul Lahote debated on whether to head back home or to follow her scent. He knew where it was coming from, where she was at. It's where she's always at. He has followed her scent to the beach on multiple occasions. That girl would live at the beach if she could. So he knew it wasn't anything unusual.

    But it was nine thirty at night and even though summer just ended, the temperature dropped to low forties. Something wasn't sitting right in his stomach. He knew something was wrong... he could sense it. It alerted him, and something in the back of his head demanded he go to her, to make sure she was alright.

    So he listened to his gut.

    He phased back once he was close to the beach and emerged from the trees, grabbing a pair of shorts the boys hid in trees of their most common places before doing so. He walked along the edge, scanning the dark for her. Her scent was stronger now, and he followed it until his eyes finally landed on her. And what he saw had him skidding to a stop.

    "Bridget?" Paul found himself calling out, seeing the girl sitting in the sand, hugging her knees to her chest. As he jogged over, immediate worry washed over when he saw the state she was in.

    Hair and clothes were soaking wet and she was shivering terribly, jaw trembling uncontrollably and her eyes glassy, like she had been crying. Paul was at her side instantly, kneeling in the sand and went to touch her, but retreated, thinking better of it. "Jesus. Did you go out into the ocean? At this time at night? What were you thinking?"

    She has to be freezing her ass off.

    He smelled the alcohol then. He almost missed it with the smell of salt water clinging to her skin, but being in close proximity, he was able to smell it on her breath and it was strong. "You're drunk."

    Bridget didn't respond, just stared out into the open sea. Paul waved a hand over in her face and she only blinked before slowly turning to him, their eyes locking intensely. Paul could feel his chest tearing to shreds from the distress look in her eyes, again wanting to reach out to her but didn't want to startle her as she clearly was not exactly in the right mind space.

    "Bridget?" He called to her again but more softly, looking her over immediately in panic. "Are you hurt? What's going on?"

    Bridget let out a scattered, breathless chuckle as another tear escaped and trailed down her cheek as she finally found the will to speak, but her voice was barely a whisper that his heightened senses almost had a hard time understanding what she said. "What always happens... reality punched me in the face."

    Paul had no idea what she meant and seeing her lips quivering from the cold, he didn't really care. He finally threw away any caution and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and almost gasped out loud. "Bridget, you're freezing."

    The girl didn't seem to register his words. She was no longer looking at him, instead she was back to staring at the ocean. Paul went from worried to down right frightened. His heart began hammering and as he ran a hand through his dark hair.

    What the hell happened? She doesn't seem like the type of person to drink so heavily. He thought to himself, trying to understand.

    Paul didn't hesitate before moving her arm around his shoulder before wrapping one arm around her waist and the other under her legs. She didn't put up a fight as he lifted her into the air, instead she snuggled into his warmth and buried her face into his neck.

    Paul stiffened at the contact, but tried his best to control himself and calm his racing heart beat before carrying her towards her car where he had seen parked earlier before putting her in the passenger seat before running to the drivers side. He digs through her bag for the keys, pulling out the pink journal he always sees her writing in and smiles softly, always wondering what she constantly had to write down in here.

    Maybe soon, she might tell him. If he played his cards right.

    Finding her keys, he pulled out of the lot and headed in the direction of Sam and Emily's while stealing nervous glances at the drunk girl who sat with her head resting back into the seat and her droopy eyes locked on him. He tried not to let it show how skirmish he got under her intense gaze and tried to get the heat to turn out which was proven difficult.

    "It's been broken for months." The sound of her voice startled him, looking over at the girl who still looked like she was going to fall asleep at any moment.

    "Your kidding?" Paul asks in disbelief, realizing she was right when nothing was coming out of the vents. "Why haven't you gotten this fixed?"

    She attempted to shrug but barely got it out. "Too expensive."

    Paul paused, biting his tongue to keep from responding. His words from Emily's party playing back to him, about how he accused her of mooching money off of those bloodsuckers just to test to see how close she was to them. It's official, he was a new level of dick.

    He took a quick glance in the backseat, finding a sweater she must have left in here and reached for it, keeping his eyes on the road and had slowed down just to be cautious. Once he grabbed the knitted fabric, he one-handedly draped it over her shivering form the best he could. He even lifted her arm to move it to her stomach so she would be covered better, but stopped mid-way when something caught his eyes.

    There on her small wrist, was a growing finger mark bruise, like someone squeezed the life out of her wrist and wouldn't let go. Paul had to force himself to glance at the road, but his one hand gripped the steering wheel tightly, realizing she had been hurt.

    Someone hurt his imprint. Someone grabbed her... is that why she was drunk? Did something happen?

    "Bridget," Paul tried to get her attention but she was barely conscious. His chest was aching at the thought of someone hurting her. "Bridget, who did this to you?"

    Bridget blinked but managed to look up to see what he was talking about. It took her a full minute before she breathed out the word, "Accident."

    Paul let her hand down gently and finished putting the sweater over her, before gripping the steering wheel once again, his mind jumping to one conclusion so quickly, it was the only thing that made sense. A Cullen did this to her. He didn't know who nor did he know how he knew, but he could feel it in his gut and it was enough to make him see red. It took everything in him not to turn this car around and go to their place and tear them all to shreds.

     When Bridget spoke again, Paul was almost certain she was delirious, the alcohol still having a strong effect on her. "Tell Alex I'm sorry I tried to break my promise."

    Through his fury, Paul frowned. "Who's Alex?"

    "Just promise me? Promise me you will tell him I'm sorry. I tried to be strong... but I just couldn't do it anymore."

    Paul looked back and forced between the road and her, furrowing his brows together in confusion. "Bridget, you're not making any sense."

     But Paul didn't get any further explanation as the girl beside him drifted off into a deep slumber.

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This chapter was hard to write, my poor baby Bree!  She is struggling so hard to continue on.

Paul coming in and taking care of her tho? I'm gear for that any time lol so fun to write!

Let me know what you guys thought!