Chapter VI
Title: Shadow and Sunshine
Pairing: J/B, some E/B
Rating: PG-13
Summary: On their honeymoon, Bella is torn away from Edward when they are attacked by a strange group. Although Bella survives, she ends up stranded at a mysterious school with no memory of her prior life. As her new life begins to fall apart at the seams, Bella must piece together the clues to her past.
Disclaimer: You probably already suspect that I'm not Stephanie Meyer.
Chapter Six
If I could see you,
This darkness would turn to light.
-Storm, Lifehouse
The sun was beginning to set, Micah announced, and their train would be leaving soon.
Bella followed them mutely, lost in the thoughts spinning around her head. Did she really want to do this? she asked herself for the millionth time. The answer was immediate-yes. Though she couldn’t explain why, there was something about Forks pulling-no, dragging her back.
Bella pulled out her umbrella, bowing her head against the wind. After producing their tickets, the trio boarded the train.
“Let’s see… it looks like we should sit up here somewhere…” Sera squinted.
Seeing her chance, Bella took a deep breath. “I’m going to run to the restroom,” she said, checking her purse and not looking at them. “I’ll be right back.”
Micah gave her an absent minded wave. “No, I’m pretty sure we keep going, Sera-“
Their voices faded away as she hurried away, pulling up her umbrella when she stepped outside. I’ll apologize to them later, she promised.
“Well,” she reflected aloud as she hopped over a large puddle, “now what, I wonder?”
She ambled her way back to the street they had walked down before. The sun was sinking below the horizon now, casting eerie purplish shadows across the deserted road. Bella was disappointed to see that the coffee shop now had a CLOSED sign plastered in the large window. Whatever you’re looking for isn’t in there, she reminded herself, resigned to the inevitability of getting her boots soaking wet.
Bella strolled along for a few more minutes, then began slowing down. Not far down the sidewalk, several figures stumbled out of an open doorway. The air filled with the unmistakable odor of cigarette smoke mingling with cheap beer. Bella wrinkled her nose, but continued walking.
One of them, patting his faded denim jacket, swore. “I must’ve left my keys on the bar,” he told the other figure, heading back inside. “Stay here.”
The other figure-also male, Bella guessed from his broad shoulders- swayed slightly and waved them back in. As Bella drew nearer, she saw that he wore a wrinkled blue work shirt, partially untucked. When his head turned to look at her, his bloodshot eyes widened.
“Bells,” he slurred, in a voice so low it was barely audible. Bella stopped dead in her tracks, knuckles turning white as she gripped her umbrella.
“What did you call me?”
He shuffled closer, unsteadily. “Knew you’d come back,” he mumbled. “Told them-“
“Stop!” Bella backed up slightly. “Who are you? How do you know who I am?”
“Charlie? I found the keys.” The earlier figure emerged once again, keys dangling in his left hand. “What are-“
Bella shot him a sidelong glance, careful to keep several feet of distance between herself and the two men. “Who are you?” she demanded again.
The was the sound of keys hitting the pavement.
“Bella?”
He flicked on the light switch, white light flooding the room. Bella blinked rapidly, trying to adjust to the sudden brightness.
“Come on, Charlie,” he grunted, keeping one arm around the older man’s waist. “Let’s get you to bed…” He hesitated, glancing at Bella and seeming unsure what to do.
“Go ahead,” Bella said, wrapping her arms around herself. “I’ll wait here.”
He nodded, and the duo awkwardly maneuvered up the stairs. Bella gazed around the small living room in dazed disbelief. Is this real? she wondered, not for the first time.
Not far away, a television rested against the wall. As Bella moved closer, she saw that a small snapshot had been placed on top of it. She picked it up gingerly, as if it would crumble away like dust in her hands. A familiar heart-shaped face gazed back-the hair was longer and the skin a little paler, but it was unmistakably Bella.
There was a sound behind her and she spun around, photo clutched to her chest.
“Sorry!” The boy-could she call him that? he towered over her-held up his hands, looking apologetic. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“I don’t understand.” Bella set the frame down gingerly. “Who are you?”
“I-well, my name’s Quil.” He gave her an encouraging look. “Jacob’s friend.”
Bella shifted uneasily. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly, meaning it. “I don’t…”
Quil scratched his chin, watching her closely. “You don’t remember anything, Bella? Not even Charlie?”
“Charlie,” Bella repeated the name, feeling it roll across her tongue. “The man you helped upstairs? No.”
He took a deep breath, forcing a reassuring smile. “Are you hungry? I need to make a few phone calls.”
Bella’s stomach rumbled in response, and she looked down in surprise, realizing that she hadn’t eaten since she’d been at the hotel. Quil gave her a small smile and motioned for her to follow him.
The kitchen-like the rest of the house-was tiny, with outdated tiling and a faded picture above the sink. Bella slid into one of the vinyl chairs, watching as he rifled through the refrigerator. “Do you do this a lot?”
“Do what?” His voice was slightly muffled.
“Help people out of bars.”
There was a pause, and Quil’s head appeared, one bronzed hand resting on top of the refrigerator door. “Charlie… he’s had a hard time since you left. We all have.”
She chewed on one fingernail, watching him closely. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“No, I suppose I didn’t.” Once again, his head disappeared. “Let’s see… looks like he has some sandwich meat, if you want a sandwich.” He straightened, holding up two packages. “Turkey or ham? Take your pick. I’m not nearly as good a cook as you, so our options are kind of limited.”
“I’m a good cook?” Bella looked pleased. “I’ve never tried, to be honest.”
There was an uncomfortable silence, and Bella stood, accepting the food. “I can do this. You go make your phone calls.”
“Thanks, Bella,” Quil said, looking relieved.
She pulled out several slices of bread, and began opening the packaged meat. A pause-was that a noise?- and Bella set the food on the counter, carefully. “Quil?” she called, turning around.
Jacob pushed himself up on his elbows, fumbling for the phone.
“Jake?”
“Quil?” He stretched one arm above his head, wincing as his back muscles strained and wishing the loveseat wasn’t quite so small. “I must’ve fallen asleep. Where are you?”
“I went to, um, go get Charlie. I know you usually do it, but Billy said not to wake you.”
“What’s wrong?” he wanted to know, peering at the shadowed clock. “Jesus, he’s not hurt or anything, is he?”
“No, no, he’s fine, it’s nothing like that.” Quil’s voice lowered then, as if he were trying to keep someone from listening in. “It’s just-I’m at his house, and I think you should come over. Right away.”
“Quil.” Jacob shot the phone an exasperated look. “You’re not giving me a lot to work with here. What’s going on?”
“Jake, I was going to get Charlie in the car when Bella just sort of-showed up. Out of nowhere. She doesn’t seem hurt, but something’s not right. She doesn’t remember anything.”
Silence. For a moment, all Jacob could hear was the roar of blood rushing in his head, and the world stood still.
“Bella?” he croaked.
“Yeah. And listen, maybe you should bring Sam, if you can find him.”
Slowly, the gears in Jacob’s head began clunking into place. “Is she okay? Is Bella okay?” His heart thudded against his ribcage, and it was suddenly difficult to breathe.
“She doesn’t seem hurt,” Quil assured him hastily. Jacob exhaled gustily, closing his eyes. “Just… get over here.”
He threw the phone down without so much as a good-bye, hurtling down the stairs two, three at a time, banging the door open with his foot.
“Jacob!” Billy’s voice called after him, sounding alarmed. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“Bella,” Jacob shouted back, never slowing down.
She could hear Quil’s voice-too low to make out the words-floating in from the living room. Something’s wrong, Bella realized with a jolt, feeling the hair on her arms stand on end.
She held her breath, slowly stepping into the hallway, one hand gripping the doorframe as though for dear life. No one was there. Bella let her breath out slowly, feeling her grip loosen. Stop being so paranoid, she chided herself.
She started to turn around, and froze. A figure stood in the middle of the kitchen, a man who had not been there a moment ago. One bronze lock of hair felt across his chiseled face, golden eyes boring into her. Bella swallowed, unable to tear her eyes away.
“Who are you?” she whispered.
He stepped forward, his movements so fluid and catlike they barely registered. Vampire! a voice inside her screamed.
“Bella,” he murmured in a deep, silky voice, reaching out to brush her lips with one icy finger. “My love, you don’t know how long I’ve been looking for you.”
Chapter Seven