Disclaimer: I have no rights to the Twilight Saga or the novel series, nor the movie Life As We Know It which The Steps of Grief was originally based on.

A/N: For those who have not read The Steps of Grief, a quick summary: Jacob and Leah are godparents to Sam and Emily's son, Joshua, and become responsible for him after their death. That fic follows their journey, while this fic follows everybody else's. Hopefully, if I get this right it can standalone and Steps won't be a necessary read. (But I love it when people do.)

For those who have already read it, I come bearing absolutely zero excuses.

This will be my happy place, so there's no chapter limit and no scheduled updates because Now & Then is still the current top dog. Be gentle.

The Way We Get By

one.

Before (Sam)

When Sam eventually stepped down, entrusting the only family he'd ever truly known to the new Chief Jacob, Emily cried.

"I hope this isn't you trying to let me down gently," he said, trying to make a joke over the crippling alarm he felt. "We're supposed to be getting married tomorrow."

Emily hardly ever cried. Only twice before had he witnessed her tears. The first time, when he'd turned up on her doorstep and begged and begged and begged, and the second when Harry had died.

Emily sobbed harder, which only increased his heart rate. And then she said through gasping breaths, "I'm not going to see her again, am I?"

"Oh."

The penny had dropped then. Both times, Emily had been crying about Leah – not because of him, and not because of Harry. She had cried because Leah's heart had been broken, and then because it had been broken again. And now, because Sam had stepped down as Alpha and Emily thought that Leah had no reason to come by the house anymore. Emily thought that she would not see her again.

It didn't matter that Leah hated them. It didn't matter that, sometimes, Emily couldn't sleep because Leah had said something so horrible earlier that day. It didn't matter, because Emily loved her just the same as she always had.

"You're going to see her tomorrow," he tried to reassure.

"She won't come. If I were her, I wouldn't come."

Sam smoothed Emily's damp hair away from her face, leaving a kiss along every inch of skin his fingers hadn't touched. "So make it happen."

And so before Emily's tears had completely dried she'd gotten into their car and he hadn't seen her for three hours. When she came home, she was smiling.

"Where did you go?"

"To get myself a maid of honour."

He'd never asked how she'd done it – not even when Leah had stood behind Emily as she'd said her vows in the courthouse, scowling throughout the whole damn ceremony because Emily had put a dress on her. But that was Emily. She could probably tame a damn leech, if she wanted to. She had learned to be the imprint of an Alpha.

After that, Leah started turning up on their doorstep every so often. Then Emily made her have dinner with them. Then Emily started setting the table for three every Friday without fail. So it soon was that, more often than not, Sam was coming home from his job at Jacob's garage to find Leah and Emily on the couch.

Sometimes they were hugging, sometimes they were crying, and sometimes both. Sometimes Emily had her legs draped over Leah's lap, and they were happy in their silence. Sometimes they were laughing so hard that not even Emily noticed when he walked in.

Today, they're laughing and crying and hugging, but they notice him at least, and he's barely shucked off his shoes before Leah's wrapped herself around him.

Sam looks with wide eyes over her dark choppy hair at his wife just as Leah starts soaking his shirt. Leah hasn't touched him since the day he walked away from her, and that had only been to slap him – twice. But Emily just grins, and she doesn't wipe away her tears.

He thinks he should probably hug Leah back, or something. A pat on the shoulder, maybe, once he gets over how very strange it is to have her so close to him again. Before the wedding, she spent months making sure that she didn't so much as breathe in his direction in case she'd be helping him out. Since then, she's been trying harder. She's been making an obvious effort to hold her tongue, to be nice, but has still somewhat kept her distance.

"This is weird, isn't it?" Leah says against him, but she doesn't move.

Sam settles for giving her a few pats on her back as if to say, Yeah, kinda.

Their life's not so complicated anymore. When he'd stopped phasing, Leah had gotten better – she didn't have to answer him anymore, didn't have to follow him, and she seemed to thrive under Jake's leadership until she'd become strong enough to leave the Pack, too. Jacob had helped more with that than anybody else would ever have been able to; he'd sat with her for eighteen hours and had kept her in the Here and the Now, slowly reigning her temper in by letting her dig her nails into him instead of herself. He'd pinned her down and he'd pretended not to see her cry and he'd let her insults fall on deaf ears. He'd shared with her things only an Alpha was able to, so that she wouldn't have such a hard time resisting the Phase next time.

When Sam had heard, he'd thought that, even if Leah had let him, he would not have been able to do it. Jacob was going to be a formidable Chief, but he was already the most remarkable Alpha.

"I'm gonna be the best damn godparent this side of Washington," Leah declares, face bright and eyes shining as she tilts her head up to him. This is the Leah he remembers.

Behind her, Emily cradles her bump and beams. Eight months, two weeks and six days pregnant, she is uncomfortable but the happiest Sam has ever seen her. While she owns his whole heart, he will never forget how he will forever carry a piece of Leah's, broken and shattered and mostly all because of him.

"Wait 'til you hear who he's chosen," Emily pipes up with the same grin on her face.

"Traitor," Sam mouths, giving her a look of betrayal. He's not yet asked Jacob.

And with the look now on Leah's face, he's not sure he'll live to be able to.