The Fire of the Sun -- Chapter Eighteen
Title: The Fire of the Sun
Author: audreyii_fic
Fandom: Twilight (Team Jacob)
Rating: T
Characters: Full cast (Jacob/Bella, Sam/Emily)
Genre: Romance/Angst/Wolfpack!Humor
Warnings: Language, violence, and references to adult behavior. See here for more details.
banner courtesy of untilwebleedoz
Summary:
Sequel to The Movement of the Earth. Bella finds the cost of joining the supernatural world may be higher than she can pay. ( Click here to start from the beginning.)
Chapter Eighteen:
for the life of me / i cannot remember / what made us think that we were wise and we'd never compromise
Lux Land, "The Freshmen"
18. Dust
(Bella)
I had missed my final exams. Thankfully, none of the teachers held it against me-every single one of them said that I could turn in the end of class paperwork whenever I was ready, that there was no rush. Their sympathetic looks were more difficult to deal with than I'd expected. If I never saw another pitying face, it would be too soon. And Forks was full of them.
So I went to La Push, to Jacob's house, to Jacob's arms, where everything still made sense in a world that I couldn't even comprehend.
And I didn't leave.
***
The Blacks' kitchen was windowless, needing illumination from the fluorescent light overhead even though it was eight-thirty in the morning. "Please pass the milk," Rebecca said shortly, refusing to make eye contact.
I took a bite of Cheerios and set the gallon jug down with more force than strictly necessary. The Formica table rattled. "Here."
A muscle in Rebecca's jaw twitched as she added the milk to her cereal, and I resisted the urge to slap it. Rachel and Jake were at the hospital, taking their turns by Billy's bedside, and no good would come of my getting into a cat fight with the only Black sibling left in the house. Especially considering she was easily four inches taller.
All of my anger at Jacob's sisters had been simmering not far below the surface for the last two days, and I was having a more and more difficult time tamping it down. Neither of them liked coming home to find their sixteen-year-old brother living with his girlfriend, but their righteous indignation had nothing on mine. They'd abandoned Jacob for years, left him alone to deal with all the problems in the world, and now they were breezing in to help for, what, a week? Two? Then they'd both be on their ways, leaving him alone again, and the thought made me want to-
"How are the funeral plans coming?" This time Rebecca's tone was softer.
I swallowed, my furiously protective thoughts derailed. "Well, you know," I said vaguely. Angela had been my saving grace; as I'd stood in the funeral home, surrounded by brochures and at a complete overwhelmed loss, I'd remembered that Angela was a preacher's daughter. She was at my side less then ten minutes after my phone call, handling everything in only a few hours, asking me for no more than my nominal approval as she made the arrangements. I'd nodded dully each time. I knew Charlie wouldn't have cared about any of those things.
"Oh. Well... if you..." Rebecca sighed then, and set down her spoon to rub her eyes. "Charlie looked after us when Mom died," she said suddenly. "Dad got sicker and Charlie brought groceries for us, drove Rach to basketball practice... we loved him." She looked exhausted. "If there's anything we can do to help with the arrangements, we'll do it."
I knew her words were heartfelt, but I felt the imprint-linked temper rise up in me again. "So my dad took care of everyone," I said acidly. "Then Jacob took care of everyone. Thanks for the offer, but if I need assistance, I'll ask someone with more experience helping."
There was a beat-then Rebecca stood up so fast her chair fell to the ground. "You think you have a right- you-" She shoved the cereal box into the cabinet above the sink; I heard a crunch. "You've lived here since, what, winter before last? What do you know about anything? We saw Charlie three times a week for our whole lives. Rachel and I were better daughters to him than you ever were."
It felt like there wasn't enough oxygen in the room. All I could do was stare at the plastic salt and pepper shakers sitting in the middle of the table. But finally, when I found my voice again, I said: "Just because I was wrong doesn't mean you were right."
There was a long silence to my right. "Yeah," she said after a minute. "Yeah. I'm sorry. It's been a rough few days. On everyone, I guess."
I nodded.
"Look. You can stay until Dad gets out of the hospital-but you need to go before he comes home. He won't like it if you're here and I don't want to stress him out. There's not enough room, anyway."
I knew she was right, but I couldn't resist saying, "There'll be plenty of room once you and Rachel leave again."
"I'm gonna stick around for awhile."
That made me look up in surprise. "You are?"
Rebecca nodded and took a sip of orange juice. "The doctors say Dad's going to need a lot of help with recovery. Harder for his lungs to heal with the diabetes and stuff. Rach has got to go back to school-and so does Jake." She gave me an evil look at she said the words, and I suddenly realized she thought I was the reason Jacob had dropped out. "I'll stay until things are under control."
"Won't your husband mind?" I asked curiously.
"If Sol doesn't like it, tough."
That didn't sound very promising for her marriage, but I knew Jacob would be hugely relieved not to have sole responsibility for his dad's care. I had been planning to handle as much of it as I could, to ease the burden... but Rebecca was right, as much as I hated to admit it. Billy wouldn't like that. I couldn't stay here forever.
I just didn't know where to go.
***
Afterwards, I couldn't remember much of Charlie's funeral.
I remembered the rest home being so full that there was no place to sit; people lined up against the back wall, crammed in tighter than sardines, almost certainly violating the fire code. It seemed like every resident of both Forks and La Push was there.
I remembered that Renée sobbed louder than anyone else in the room.
I remembered Jacob's hand squeezing mine so tightly I wondered if my bones could take it, and how Billy-released from the hospital only for a few hours-had dislodged his nasal oxygen tube as he wiped his eyes over and over.
I remembered standing over the casket, looking down at my father's face. He was gone, and I knew this was supposed to bring me closure, but all I felt was a sort of disinterested exhaustion, like it was late at night and I was watching a movie about myself. I didn't have any tears to shed.
But when it was over, I realized that those moments were all I remembered. I didn't even know who had given the eulogy.
I distracted myself from the revelation by catching Jessica on the front steps and trying to thank her for everything she'd done-except she interrupted me before I got very far. "Bella... please don't take this the wrong way, but... I really don't want to talk about that. Ever again." She smiled awkwardly. "It's just, uh-"
"A lot," I supplied.
"Exactly. More than I want, you know?"
"I know." I'd made a conscious decision to join the supernatural world, and given what had happened since... I couldn't blame Jessica for not choosing the same path. "How's the car?"
She grimaced. "The insurance company is all kinds of not happy. I wiped your prints from the steering wheel."
"Thanks."
"No prob." Then she looked down and said, "I'm sorry about your dad. He was really cool."
Somehow, that was the most meaningful condolence I'd received so far. "Yeah, he was."
Jessica glanced towards the parking lot-Mike was waving to her. I'd noticed them sitting together at the funeral, where she'd rested her head on his shoulder; the 'on again' of prom had apparently lasted. "I'll text you later," she said quickly, and as she walked away I felt a twinge of envy for her life, which seemed so simple and quiet in comparison to mine... until I noticed how Embry, who stood near the side of the building with several other La Push residents, was watching her go with a strange expression on his face.
Perhaps Jessica's life wasn't going to be as simple as it currently seemed.
***
Since Jacob had to return Billy to the hospital, it was Renée who came with me to Charlie's house. I sat in the recliner and zoned out while she made coffee. It was my first time back since I'd left to drive to La Push during the fire. There were things I was supposed to be doing, six million pieces of paper than had to be signed after a person died. At the moment I couldn't seem to do anything except stare at the television and wonder where my father had left the remote.
It took me a while to tune back in, and when I did, Renée was saying, "Do you want something for lunch, baby? Looks like there's sprouts and some tofu in here-"
I'd made Charlie eat frittatas for nothing. "No, thanks. I'm not hungry."
There was a clanking in the kitchen that indicated Renée had ignored my decline of food. "So," she said, "I was thinking that tonight I can go pick up some boxes from the grocery store. They've always got extras. Once we get all your stuff sorted out we should be able to rent one of the smaller moving trucks to get it to Jacksonville-"
"Mom," I interrupted, "we've been through this before. I live here now."
"But baby, that was before-"
"It doesn't matter. I'm staying." I didn't know what I was going to do, but I wasn't leaving my home. Not for anything.
With a bewildered look, she drifted into the living room to face me. "Is this about Jacob? Bella, I know he's very mature for his age, but he's only sixteen. And after the way you two scared everyone, I'm not sure he's such a good influence."
I shook my head, biting back my automatic desire to defend. After Charlie had learned what was really happening, he'd apparently withdrawn all his kidnapping reports by saying Jake and I had gone on an 'unauthorized road trip'. "It's about a lot more than Jacob, Mom."
"So what's it about, then?"
The screen of the blank television seemed to waver in my vision as I searched for a way to articulate what everyone meant: Embry lifting me onto the counter, Emily loaning me her hoodie, Seth holding onto the dashboard of Jessica's car... and all I could say was, "My family is here. They need me. And I need them."
Too late, I realized how hurtful those words must have been for my mother to hear. She didn't bother trying to hide the pain on her face, but said, "Well, if you change your mind... you're always welcome, Bella. You're my baby."
I nodded, but a knock on the door cut off whatever else I might have said. I let out a slow breath as Renée went to answer it-and then I heard her words turn frosty. "I'm not really sure Bella is up to seeing a visitor right now, Edward."
"Just for a moment," a velvet voice pleaded. "It won't take long."
The television screen didn't give me any answers as my mother called my name. "It's okay," I replied. "Let him in." I knew he would have things he wanted to say... and after what he and Carlisle and the others had done to help the Pack, it seemed only fair to give him the chance to say it.
As they walked into the living room, I noticed Renée looking at Edward-who was the world's most perfect predator, like it or not. "Mom," I said quickly, "could you give us some privacy, please?"
Her hesitation in leaving us was palpable, but she went. Once she was out of earshot, in the kitchen, Edward turned to me. "May I?"
I nodded. As he sat gracefully on the couch, I noticed that I felt almost no effect from any of his abilities; he was still beautiful, of course, but he no longer looked real to my eyes. I felt no more draw towards him than I would have felt towards a marble statue in an art gallery.
Was it a result of the imprint, or my own efforts to overcome the addiction to his presence? After a moment I decided I didn't care. I would never throw myself into his embrace again.
Edward looked at me for a long minute, during which I simply stared back. "I've come to offer my condolences in person, Bella," he said finally, "along with my deepest apologies for all my errors in judgment."
"Errors in judgment," I echoed in disbelief. "You mean having Alice kidnap me? Coming back to Forks? Leaving Forks? Which parts?"
My tone made him wince. "All of it," he said. "Every decision I've made that has ever caused you even a second of pain. I can offer no defense. All I can say is, the only thing I've ever wanted is for you to be safe."
It was the day of my father's funeral. I didn't have enough emotion to spare to react-let alone shout, or cry, or do anything else. "That's not your place, Edward," was all I said.
He nodded. "Yes. I understand. It's Jacob's place, now."
"No," I corrected, "it's my place."
He didn't seem to know how to respond to that; as near as I could tell, my words didn't even sink in. I remembered what Jasper had said: For a vampire of his age, he's even relatively stable. But our kind do not stay human for long.
It made sense to me, now. It didn't matter that I had killed Victoria or rescued Kim or even walked from one room to another without falling over. Edward didn't comprehend that I could take care of myself, and there was no explanation that he would comprehend. He couldn't change the way he thought. He couldn't change, period. He was a vampire.
I tried to steer the conversation a little. "Are you leaving, then?"
"We are. It's what Carlisle wanted." He lowered his golden eyes to the floor between his feet. "From the moment we learned of Victoria's demise, he attempted to convince me that we should go. If I had listened, then perhaps... out of respect for his memory, I'll obey him now."
"Where will you go?"
"Esme is headed for Volterra," said Edward, "to be part of whatever happens next." He looked out the window-the sky was steel gray, as always-and focused on something only he could see. "Our world needs authority, and with the Volturi gone, someone will be stepping in to that power vacuum. Esme wants our hunting habits to have influence-not only for the sake of the other vegetarian vampires, but because Carlisle would have wished it. I believe Rosalie and Emmett intend to stay with her, at least for the time being."
"And you?"
His ghostly face turned dark. "I am going to hunt for Jasper." I made a disbelieving noise, and he held up his hand. "If Jasper had been there, none of this carnage would have occurred. He could have easily used his powers to avert the interest of the Volturi, but instead, he left us to our fates without a backward glance." Cold hatred threaded through his words. "He will pay for Carlisle's death, as well as the deaths of your father and the wolves."
"But the Volturi are gone, now." That was the bright spot that had gotten me through the last few days; it was what Jacob had repeated to himself during our sleepless nights. "If Jasper had been here... maybe they would have gone back to Italy, but who knows how many other people they would have killed over time." I wet my lips. "Sam and Quil and Carlisle knew what they were dying for. Charlie did too, sort of. Maybe... maybe Jasper made the right decision, even if it was for the wrong reasons."
Edward was unmoved by my words; I knew that a thousand unnamed innocents who may have been saved meant nothing to him when compared to the few faces he'd known. "There is no justification that will save Jasper when I find him," he said. "I will locate he and Alice, and when I do, there will be a reckoning."
Privately, I felt absolutely certain he would never find Jasper until Jasper was ready to be found. Maybe there would be a reckoning, but it would be on Jasper's terms, not Edward's. "Good luck with that," I said aloud.
He nodded... and stared at me, unblinking, for the space of several of my breaths. It was such a short while ago, really, that he had been my whole world. So much so that his absence had left me catatonic, anchorless, broken.
I would not break, this time.
Edward rose to his feet, and I did as well. Giving me a pained look, he said, "May I... I know that I have no right to ask this, Bella, but may I visit you, one day? Ten, twenty, fifty years from now, it makes no difference to me. It never will."
In fifty years I would be nearly seventy, with white hair and wrinkles and a stooped back. Edward Cullen would not fit into that life. I'd always known it. "I don't think so," I said.
His expression was grieved, but unsurprised. "Then this is goodbye," he murmured as I walked him to the door. Those golden topaz eyes that I had loved so much-that had, in so many ways, made me the person I'd become-searched my face. If they could have filled with tears, I knew they would have. "Bella... know that you will possess my heart for all eternity. Please, remember that."
"I won't forget." I would never forget.
The sound of the hinges creaking shut, of the knob clicking into place, filled my senses and seemed to echo through the entire house. Renée called from the kitchen, "Is he gone?"
I touched my palm to the door. "Yes," I said. "He's gone."
***
The La Push funeral I did remember.
Five people had died: two in their homes, one in the hospital, and of course Sam and Quil, who had officially lost their lives rescuing others from the fire. A tribal elder whom I'd never met led the service; I didn't know the language, so all I could do was lean into Jacob's side and look at the faces around me. Old Quil sat near the front, his head bowed in grief, unable to speak when the elder motioned to him. A woman who could only be Sam's mother-the resemblance was uncanny-looked nearly comatose. Emily was pale and silent; Leah sobbed into Sue's shoulder. Jacob moved his hand to the small of my back, just under my shirt, and I felt him draw the strength he needed from my skin.
But what made the hour so terrible, what burned the memory of the funeral into my brain for what I was sure would be the rest of my life, was the two-year-old girl crying hysterically in the back row. Finally Claire's father carried her out, but I could still hear her in the parking lot, and I felt the cold clawing through me at the sound.
Afterwards, everyone wandered outside and down the short walk to First Beach, not ready to go home yet but also not sure what to say. Jacob and I spent a few minutes talking to people I barely knew-mostly answering questions about how Billy's recovery was coming-when I spotted Emily hovering over by the old bone-white driftwood tree. Even from a distance I could see how her fingers traced absently against twisted tentacled roots. Less than three months ago Jacob had sat on that very tree and answered the exact questions I'd asked him, as his Alpha had ordered him to do.
I pulled away from the others with a murmur and made my way to Emily's side; she didn't look up as I approached. "I'm sorry," I said quietly.
Emily shrugged. "Everyone keeps telling me how sorry they are," she said. Her voice sounded hollow, lifeless. "What am I supposed to do with all their sorrow? I don't even know what to do with my own."
There was nothing for me to say to that; the grief I suffered was of a different kind. My father was gone, but Jacob still stood alive and whole only two hundred feet away. "Is there anything you need?" I asked, knowing there wasn't, at least not anything I could provide.
She started to shake her head-then smiled wryly. "Well," she said, "if you see Sam's mom drinking out of a bottle in her purse, throw her in the ocean."
"You mean the purse?"
"No, I mean her."
"I'll do my best," I promised.
"Good. Thank you." Emily's fingers wrapped around one of the roots and tugged lightly. "I still want to smack her, you know," she said. "That... feeling? The one where you want to kill whatever hurts him?" I nodded, and she continued, "It's still there. It's not gone yet. But it wouldn't be very polite to try to drown your almost-mother-in-law on the day of her son's funeral." Emily was silent for a long moment, then she looked up at me for the first time. "How are you doing?"
Now it was my turn to shrug. "I don't know. People keep telling me they're sorry, too. And I've got all this stuff I'm supposed to sort through..." The thought of the pile of papers sitting in Billy's kitchen made me shudder. "My dad's will, his pension, the deed to the house, even things like getting his car insurance transferred into my name..."
"I had to do that when Grandmother died," Emily said. "I'd just turned eighteen and she left me her home. It was a mess. I can help you, if you'd like."
"I can't, you've got so much stuff-"
"It's fine. Please." She swallowed. "It'd be nice to focus on something, you know?"
I did know. "Okay. Thank you." I glanced down the beach, at where Jacob was talking to his sisters. "Rachel and Rebecca will be happy to have their kitchen table back," I said bitterly. "They hate me."
"They don't hate you. Jacob's just their little brother." Emily raised an eyebrow. "It could be worse-imagine Leah's reaction if you'd moved in with Seth."
That didn't even bear thinking about. "I'm going to have to go back to Forks soon, so they'll relax then," I said.
"You don't have to." I frowned in confusion, and Emily looked down. "I know things are different now," she said awkwardly, "but... if you'd like it, you could still come live with me, the way we were planning."
I blinked. "Really? You don't mind?"
"No. I was really looking forward to it, actually... but, just so you know, you might mind." At my questioning look, she gave me a humorless smile. "I'm pregnant."
My eyes widened, and my mouth moved soundlessly for a moment before I managed to say, "Um, congratulations." I hoped that was what she wanted to hear. A baby... babies were wonderful things, but there was so much going on right now, so many life changes to deal with...
Emily seemed to follow my line of thought. "Don't tell anyone yet," she cautioned. "I'll let people know in a few weeks, once things have calmed down a little. But even if you only want to stay for a little while, until you figure out what you want to do next, you wouldn't have to worry about three AM screaming until December."
"Right." Now that I knew to look, I could see the early curves of Emily's belly. I wondered if she'd told Sam-then decided not to ask. At least not now. "I'd really like to live with you," I said honestly, "for a few months, anyway. We can figure things out after that."
Her smile was the first genuine one I'd seen that day, which wasn't all that surprising. "Okay, then."
"Okay." I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye-Jacob was motioning to me. "I'm going back," I said. "Do you want to come too?"
Emily glanced over at the crowd of people still standing on the beach. "No," she whispered. "Later, maybe." As I walked away, I realized for the first time that she'd been keeping the scarred side of her face turned away. Sam wasn't there to protect her, anymore; Emily was going to have to interact with the world again.
But maybe she would learn. As my feet shifted in the rocky sand, I noticed that Kim was kneeling near the waves, pointing at something in a tide pool. Claire sat next to her, wet to her waist but no longer crying. In fact, every time Kim patted her on the back and said something in her ear, the little girl's face seemed to lighten fractionally.
If Claire could recover, then so could the rest of us.
***
That night, Rachel and Rebecca took their turn at the hospital on what I knew had to be Jake's suggestion. I drew a long, hot bath, my stupid cast still hanging over the side of the tub-I had to wait three more days for the new appointment to have it removed-then dried off, tied up my hair, and padded my way to Jacob's room.
He sat on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands.
I took off my towel without a word.
Later, once it felt like maybe we were both still alive, I asked Jacob tonelessly, "Did I kill Charlie?"
His hand stopped stroking my sweaty back. "What?"
"Did I kill Charlie?" I repeated. The sheets under my cheek were threadbare; I could smell the fabric softener between the fibers. "I was the one who brought everything down on him. If not for me he would never have had anything to do with vampires or werewolves, he'd still be-"
"Aw, honey." Jake hugged me tight, and his warmth soaked into my chest. "Don't, okay? It wasn't your fault."
I laughed hollowly. "Jake, you have to say things like that-"
"No, it's true. Look." He pulled me up closer-he was so much bigger than I was-until I could rest my chin against his shoulder and his lips brushed my ear. "Sam phased before you ever came to Forks," he murmured. "And vampires were already passing through. The Italian bloodsuckers found out about us because we killed the black-haired leech. They would have come no matter what, and your dad would have run down here to help. Nothing would have stopped him, you know that."
"But Laurent came back because Victoria asked him to. Because of me." If I'd never gone to play baseball with the Cullens in the first place, if I'd never met James-
"You didn't ask for any of that, Bells. You didn't. None of this happened because you fought all the time, or didn't listen to what people were trying to tell you-" his voice grew thick "-or tried to dodge your responsibilities and thought you knew better..."
Sometimes I wondered if we had enough comfort to give one another. If there was even enough comfort in the world. "If you hadn't left," I whispered, wrapping my arms around his neck and tangling my legs in his, "then you would have been at the battle and La Push would have burned down. Do you think Sam would have wanted that?"
"No."
"Well, then." We were as close as two people could get, but still I wanted to be closer, to give more, to take more. Mine. "I love you, Jacob."
"I love you too," he mumbled. My neck was wet where his face was pressed against it. "I wish I'd never dragged you into this."
"That wasn't your fault, either." Jacob couldn't help the imprint any more than Sam could, or Quil, or Jared-
-and there was something that might make him feel better. "Hey, wait," I said, squirming away a little so that I could look him in the face and smile. "So, tell me: What's your big plan to beat the imprint? No Muggles around now."
My joke fell flat; Jacob rolled away, staring up at the ceiling with a grim expression. "Don't worry about it," he muttered. "I should never have said anything in the first place."
"What? Why not?"
"It doesn't matter anymore."
"What doesn't matter?"
"Seriously, Bells. Not important."
Irritation flowered bright and hot in my chest. "Tell me," I snapped.
An instant later, I didn't know what felt worse: the fact that I had given the order, or the fact that Jacob didn't seem surprised to receive it. I'd watched Emily give Sam orders lots of times... and neither of them had ever even paused. Apparently, Jake and I were sliding down that same slope.
"I was going to stop phasing," Jacob said quietly.
I shelved my dismay for the time being and raised myself onto my elbows. Jake's face was lit by the sliver of moonlight coming in from above the curtains. "You can do that?"
"In theory," he said. "The legends say so, anyway. I was stuck on those planes with Jasper forever and all I could think about was you, and how I could make this better... and I thought, maybe if I stopped, and I wasn't so much of a wolf anymore... even if the imprint didn't go away, maybe it would be weaker. Be less of who we are."
My mind tried to turn through this new concept, even as the imprint pull inside me started to shudder in protest-no no mine his no! "But what about the rest of the Pack?" I said.
Jake glanced over and smiled sadly. "Sam told me not to come back," he said. "If I stopped phasing he wouldn't have to deal with me anymore, so... I figured he'd be the idea's biggest fan."
"But he's gone," I said slowly, understanding now why Jacob had said it didn't matter anymore. "And you have to be Alpha."
"Yep." Empty, defeated resignation rolled off of Jacob in waves. "Paul's been handling stuff while I've been distracted with Dad," and you, he didn't say, because he didn't have to, "but that's gotta stop. I've put this off for way too long. I hate the imprint, and I love you-"
"-but you have responsibilities," I completed.
You're going to have to learn to share, Sam had said.
When I nuzzled back into Jacob's embrace, the thrumming thing inside-the part that wasn't human, the part that wasn't me-purred with satisfaction. "It'll be okay," I whispered. "We'll be okay."
Jake's chest rose and fell as he took a shuddering breath, and his fingers came up to touch my face-across my forehead, down my nose, brushing my cheeks in a pattern I now recognized. Then he moved over me, followed the same pattern with his lips, and held my body against his for the rest of the night.
***
The next morning, Rachel and Rebecca called with the good news: Billy was being released from the hospital in only a few hours. Jacob drove off to Forks to help, leaving me to wonder where my place in the world was now, and if I would ever get my feet underneath me again.
I decided to go rummage in the kitchen and see what diabetic-friendly but filling stuff I could find to make supper for everyone. I hadn't looked at much before the screen door slammed; I came out into the living room to see Paul standing awkwardly in the doorway, looking like he wanted to walk right back out. "Hi," I said, startled. "Are you looking for Jake?"
"Yeah, but he's not here, is he." He wasn't asking, but I shook my head no anyway. Paul grimaced. "I'm still getting used to this finding people thing. I thought he was around-but I should've known it felt different. I guess it was because you're here being all imprint-y or whatever."
His harsh tone made me fidget nervously. "Do you want to sit down?" I gestured at the couch. "I was just going to make some lunch-"
"No," he said shortly.
So much for that. I kept hoping that sooner or later Paul would like me, or at least not dislike me quite so much, but that didn't seem to be happening. Even if he didn't want to be friends, though... "Listen, I want to thank you."
Paul gave me a wary look. "For what?" he said suspiciously.
"For being acting Alpha," I explained. "This last week... it's been really rough on everyone. It has to have been rough on you, too." Sam and Quil has been his brothers, same as Jacob's. "So I just... thank you. For giving Jake a chance to breathe before taking over. He needed it." I swallowed and looked down at the floor. "I needed it."
"Whatever." Paul's bare feet shifted, like he couldn't wait to get away as fast as he could. "It's no big deal."
"It is a big deal," I insisted. Maybe I couldn't make Paul like me, but I had to at least make him understand how grateful I was. "You know how much Jake and I hate this-"
"Everyone knows how much you and Jake hate this."
"-and having these few days to just... learn to accept things..." My words were failing me. "We got this time where it was still a little bit about being Jacob and Bella instead of being the Alpha and an imprint, and no phasing or wolf stuff and that means so... please, Paul, it is a big deal. Thank you."
When I glanced back up, Paul was staring at me with an expression I didn't understand. I wondered if I had just made things worse, somehow-though how this could have been worse than seeing him throw up in Emily's bushes, I wasn't sure-when he looked back out onto the porch sharply. A moment later I heard the sound of the Rabbit's tires crunching against gravel.
"There he is," I said, smiling.
"Yeah," said Paul. "There he is."
We both went out into the yard; Jacob was alone, pulling a duffel bag out of the trunk of the car. "Billy's stuff," he said unnecessarily, tossing the bag onto the porch. "Rach and Beck are getting him discharged, they'll be on their way soon."
He cut off as Paul walked down the steps with a nod. "Jake," Paul said.
"Hey." I felt Jacob's unhappiness like a physical reaction; it was my heart that slowed, my shoulders than slumped. But I also felt his determination in my spine as Paul came up to him. "Okay," he said, "I don't know how this works. Are we supposed to shake on it, or something?" He put out his hand-
-and Paul slapped it aside. "Fuck you," he spat.
I gasped.
"What's your problem?" Jacob demanded, looking floored.
"You're my problem." This time he shoved Jake backwards; Jake was too stunned to dodge, and he slipped unevenly in the mud. "You think you get to lead because of, what, some damn bloodline? Destiny? Sam might've believed that, but I don't."
"What the hell are you talking-"
"Do I need to spell it out for you, Jake? I'm Alpha now, and I'm not stepping aside."
My mouth worked soundlessly in disbelief. Jacob's face reflected the same shocked incredulity, along with growing anger. "Paul, what do you think you're doing?"
Paul shoved him again. This time Jake's feet were planted and he didn't move an inch; a snarl emerged from his throat, and I found myself grabbing the duffel bag, ready to throw it at Paul's head. Paul ignored us both. "It's for the good of the Pack, dumbass. Maybe you haven't been paying attention, but I have. Imprints are a liability. I'm sure as hell not going to watch the Pack be led by another wolf whose brain turns to mush whenever a girl stubs her toe."
Jacob's face turned red. "Don't talk about Sam like that," he snapped. "He was a good Alpha-"
"Like you ever noticed," Paul retorted. "You and Sam and Quil and Jared, scrambling everyone's minds every six seconds-no. The hell with that. Maybe there was a time that imprints were good for us, but they're not anymore." He paused. "In fact, I think you should quit phasing period. I'm gonna tell Jared the same thing. Maybe I'll even order him."
"Are you crazy?" shouted Jacob. He was starting to shake. "Just because I thinking- there's not enough people, Paul-"
"Collin and Brady are going to phase any day." Paul tapped his temple. "I can feel it, up here. Between them, me, Leah, Seth, and Embry, that's more than enough. We killed the leech in the meadow with just five. And you really think another band of bloodsuckers is gonna come sweeping back through here, when they hear about how we wiped out their kings and queens? No, Jake, I think we'll manage just fine without you."
I watched as Jacob's fists clenched and unclenched, as a whole war was fought beneath his skin. "It's my responsibility," he said finally, the words coming through gritted teeth. "I'm not just gonna force it onto you or someone else. I did that to Sam. I won't do it again."
Paul leaned in close to Jacob, and his entire shape ripped-but he kept control. "I'm not asking your permission," he growled. "If you want to be Alpha, you can fight me for it-but I'll win. You don't want this. I do."
Jacob hesitated, and for a moment, the outline of his body blurred into the misty air... but then he pressed his fists to his temples as I'd seen him do so many times before. His frame returned to its stable, human form. "Okay," he said, the word seeming to stick in his throat. "Okay."
"Smart choice." Paul backed up and glanced at the tree line. "I've got stuff to handle," he said, "but I'll see you around, and if I catch you phasing I'll kick your ass."
"Okay," Jacob muttered. He seemed disoriented, like a box of shaken puzzle pieces. "I... thanks."
Paul snorted. "I'm not doing it for you."
Once he was gone, Jacob and I just looked at each other, completely at a loss.
***
A few days later I watched as the doctor cut through my cast. "There we go," he said, pulling away the end of the plaster and giving me a quick smile. "Wiggle around and see how it feels, Bella."
I stretched my fingers, and then curled them. They were fine. Completely healed.
I'd broken them on Sam's face.
On my wrist, pale even against my pale skin, was the shiny half-moon where James had bitten me and Edward had sucked the venom from my blood.
And the burns from Victoria mottling my left palm.
Charlie had sat by my bedside after each injury.
"You have quite a few scars, don't you?" said the doctor pleasantly, looking at my hands.
"Yeah," I said...
...and I burst into tears.
***
Epilogue: Life
Sanity Update, Audrey Edition: This is late because I had three Christmas dinners with family and getting into fights about Maggie Thatcher is not good for the creative writing process, unless you are writing 'Billy Eliot', which I was not.
Because I suspect people will wonder and I don't want to leave it open-ended: No. Paul does not imprint on Rachel. This is not because he never sees Rachel, nor is it because his affection for Bella stops it from happening. The imprint does not occur because -- for once -- I am flatly rejecting canon. It is not for the convenience of the story. It is because the imprinting was incredibly stupid. There was absolutely no point to it in canon -- nothing was accomplished, nothing was gained, no plot points were moved forward, no characters were developed. It. Was. Dumb. Also, in my slowly-developed head canon, Rachel is gay (I do not know why) which would add a whole extra level of squick to the process. Anyway, the point is, there is no sneaky story-deviation plot reason for the change. It is simply me giving my middle finger to Stephenie Meyer.
Only the epilogue left, guys.
Author: audreyii_fic
Fandom: Twilight (Team Jacob)
Rating: T
Characters: Full cast (Jacob/Bella, Sam/Emily)
Genre: Romance/Angst/Wolfpack!Humor
Warnings: Language, violence, and references to adult behavior. See here for more details.
banner courtesy of untilwebleedoz
Summary:
Sequel to The Movement of the Earth. Bella finds the cost of joining the supernatural world may be higher than she can pay. ( Click here to start from the beginning.)
Chapter Eighteen:
for the life of me / i cannot remember / what made us think that we were wise and we'd never compromise
Lux Land, "The Freshmen"
18. Dust
(Bella)
I had missed my final exams. Thankfully, none of the teachers held it against me-every single one of them said that I could turn in the end of class paperwork whenever I was ready, that there was no rush. Their sympathetic looks were more difficult to deal with than I'd expected. If I never saw another pitying face, it would be too soon. And Forks was full of them.
So I went to La Push, to Jacob's house, to Jacob's arms, where everything still made sense in a world that I couldn't even comprehend.
And I didn't leave.
***
The Blacks' kitchen was windowless, needing illumination from the fluorescent light overhead even though it was eight-thirty in the morning. "Please pass the milk," Rebecca said shortly, refusing to make eye contact.
I took a bite of Cheerios and set the gallon jug down with more force than strictly necessary. The Formica table rattled. "Here."
A muscle in Rebecca's jaw twitched as she added the milk to her cereal, and I resisted the urge to slap it. Rachel and Jake were at the hospital, taking their turns by Billy's bedside, and no good would come of my getting into a cat fight with the only Black sibling left in the house. Especially considering she was easily four inches taller.
All of my anger at Jacob's sisters had been simmering not far below the surface for the last two days, and I was having a more and more difficult time tamping it down. Neither of them liked coming home to find their sixteen-year-old brother living with his girlfriend, but their righteous indignation had nothing on mine. They'd abandoned Jacob for years, left him alone to deal with all the problems in the world, and now they were breezing in to help for, what, a week? Two? Then they'd both be on their ways, leaving him alone again, and the thought made me want to-
"How are the funeral plans coming?" This time Rebecca's tone was softer.
I swallowed, my furiously protective thoughts derailed. "Well, you know," I said vaguely. Angela had been my saving grace; as I'd stood in the funeral home, surrounded by brochures and at a complete overwhelmed loss, I'd remembered that Angela was a preacher's daughter. She was at my side less then ten minutes after my phone call, handling everything in only a few hours, asking me for no more than my nominal approval as she made the arrangements. I'd nodded dully each time. I knew Charlie wouldn't have cared about any of those things.
"Oh. Well... if you..." Rebecca sighed then, and set down her spoon to rub her eyes. "Charlie looked after us when Mom died," she said suddenly. "Dad got sicker and Charlie brought groceries for us, drove Rach to basketball practice... we loved him." She looked exhausted. "If there's anything we can do to help with the arrangements, we'll do it."
I knew her words were heartfelt, but I felt the imprint-linked temper rise up in me again. "So my dad took care of everyone," I said acidly. "Then Jacob took care of everyone. Thanks for the offer, but if I need assistance, I'll ask someone with more experience helping."
There was a beat-then Rebecca stood up so fast her chair fell to the ground. "You think you have a right- you-" She shoved the cereal box into the cabinet above the sink; I heard a crunch. "You've lived here since, what, winter before last? What do you know about anything? We saw Charlie three times a week for our whole lives. Rachel and I were better daughters to him than you ever were."
It felt like there wasn't enough oxygen in the room. All I could do was stare at the plastic salt and pepper shakers sitting in the middle of the table. But finally, when I found my voice again, I said: "Just because I was wrong doesn't mean you were right."
There was a long silence to my right. "Yeah," she said after a minute. "Yeah. I'm sorry. It's been a rough few days. On everyone, I guess."
I nodded.
"Look. You can stay until Dad gets out of the hospital-but you need to go before he comes home. He won't like it if you're here and I don't want to stress him out. There's not enough room, anyway."
I knew she was right, but I couldn't resist saying, "There'll be plenty of room once you and Rachel leave again."
"I'm gonna stick around for awhile."
That made me look up in surprise. "You are?"
Rebecca nodded and took a sip of orange juice. "The doctors say Dad's going to need a lot of help with recovery. Harder for his lungs to heal with the diabetes and stuff. Rach has got to go back to school-and so does Jake." She gave me an evil look at she said the words, and I suddenly realized she thought I was the reason Jacob had dropped out. "I'll stay until things are under control."
"Won't your husband mind?" I asked curiously.
"If Sol doesn't like it, tough."
That didn't sound very promising for her marriage, but I knew Jacob would be hugely relieved not to have sole responsibility for his dad's care. I had been planning to handle as much of it as I could, to ease the burden... but Rebecca was right, as much as I hated to admit it. Billy wouldn't like that. I couldn't stay here forever.
I just didn't know where to go.
***
Afterwards, I couldn't remember much of Charlie's funeral.
I remembered the rest home being so full that there was no place to sit; people lined up against the back wall, crammed in tighter than sardines, almost certainly violating the fire code. It seemed like every resident of both Forks and La Push was there.
I remembered that Renée sobbed louder than anyone else in the room.
I remembered Jacob's hand squeezing mine so tightly I wondered if my bones could take it, and how Billy-released from the hospital only for a few hours-had dislodged his nasal oxygen tube as he wiped his eyes over and over.
I remembered standing over the casket, looking down at my father's face. He was gone, and I knew this was supposed to bring me closure, but all I felt was a sort of disinterested exhaustion, like it was late at night and I was watching a movie about myself. I didn't have any tears to shed.
But when it was over, I realized that those moments were all I remembered. I didn't even know who had given the eulogy.
I distracted myself from the revelation by catching Jessica on the front steps and trying to thank her for everything she'd done-except she interrupted me before I got very far. "Bella... please don't take this the wrong way, but... I really don't want to talk about that. Ever again." She smiled awkwardly. "It's just, uh-"
"A lot," I supplied.
"Exactly. More than I want, you know?"
"I know." I'd made a conscious decision to join the supernatural world, and given what had happened since... I couldn't blame Jessica for not choosing the same path. "How's the car?"
She grimaced. "The insurance company is all kinds of not happy. I wiped your prints from the steering wheel."
"Thanks."
"No prob." Then she looked down and said, "I'm sorry about your dad. He was really cool."
Somehow, that was the most meaningful condolence I'd received so far. "Yeah, he was."
Jessica glanced towards the parking lot-Mike was waving to her. I'd noticed them sitting together at the funeral, where she'd rested her head on his shoulder; the 'on again' of prom had apparently lasted. "I'll text you later," she said quickly, and as she walked away I felt a twinge of envy for her life, which seemed so simple and quiet in comparison to mine... until I noticed how Embry, who stood near the side of the building with several other La Push residents, was watching her go with a strange expression on his face.
Perhaps Jessica's life wasn't going to be as simple as it currently seemed.
***
Since Jacob had to return Billy to the hospital, it was Renée who came with me to Charlie's house. I sat in the recliner and zoned out while she made coffee. It was my first time back since I'd left to drive to La Push during the fire. There were things I was supposed to be doing, six million pieces of paper than had to be signed after a person died. At the moment I couldn't seem to do anything except stare at the television and wonder where my father had left the remote.
It took me a while to tune back in, and when I did, Renée was saying, "Do you want something for lunch, baby? Looks like there's sprouts and some tofu in here-"
I'd made Charlie eat frittatas for nothing. "No, thanks. I'm not hungry."
There was a clanking in the kitchen that indicated Renée had ignored my decline of food. "So," she said, "I was thinking that tonight I can go pick up some boxes from the grocery store. They've always got extras. Once we get all your stuff sorted out we should be able to rent one of the smaller moving trucks to get it to Jacksonville-"
"Mom," I interrupted, "we've been through this before. I live here now."
"But baby, that was before-"
"It doesn't matter. I'm staying." I didn't know what I was going to do, but I wasn't leaving my home. Not for anything.
With a bewildered look, she drifted into the living room to face me. "Is this about Jacob? Bella, I know he's very mature for his age, but he's only sixteen. And after the way you two scared everyone, I'm not sure he's such a good influence."
I shook my head, biting back my automatic desire to defend. After Charlie had learned what was really happening, he'd apparently withdrawn all his kidnapping reports by saying Jake and I had gone on an 'unauthorized road trip'. "It's about a lot more than Jacob, Mom."
"So what's it about, then?"
The screen of the blank television seemed to waver in my vision as I searched for a way to articulate what everyone meant: Embry lifting me onto the counter, Emily loaning me her hoodie, Seth holding onto the dashboard of Jessica's car... and all I could say was, "My family is here. They need me. And I need them."
Too late, I realized how hurtful those words must have been for my mother to hear. She didn't bother trying to hide the pain on her face, but said, "Well, if you change your mind... you're always welcome, Bella. You're my baby."
I nodded, but a knock on the door cut off whatever else I might have said. I let out a slow breath as Renée went to answer it-and then I heard her words turn frosty. "I'm not really sure Bella is up to seeing a visitor right now, Edward."
"Just for a moment," a velvet voice pleaded. "It won't take long."
The television screen didn't give me any answers as my mother called my name. "It's okay," I replied. "Let him in." I knew he would have things he wanted to say... and after what he and Carlisle and the others had done to help the Pack, it seemed only fair to give him the chance to say it.
As they walked into the living room, I noticed Renée looking at Edward-who was the world's most perfect predator, like it or not. "Mom," I said quickly, "could you give us some privacy, please?"
Her hesitation in leaving us was palpable, but she went. Once she was out of earshot, in the kitchen, Edward turned to me. "May I?"
I nodded. As he sat gracefully on the couch, I noticed that I felt almost no effect from any of his abilities; he was still beautiful, of course, but he no longer looked real to my eyes. I felt no more draw towards him than I would have felt towards a marble statue in an art gallery.
Was it a result of the imprint, or my own efforts to overcome the addiction to his presence? After a moment I decided I didn't care. I would never throw myself into his embrace again.
Edward looked at me for a long minute, during which I simply stared back. "I've come to offer my condolences in person, Bella," he said finally, "along with my deepest apologies for all my errors in judgment."
"Errors in judgment," I echoed in disbelief. "You mean having Alice kidnap me? Coming back to Forks? Leaving Forks? Which parts?"
My tone made him wince. "All of it," he said. "Every decision I've made that has ever caused you even a second of pain. I can offer no defense. All I can say is, the only thing I've ever wanted is for you to be safe."
It was the day of my father's funeral. I didn't have enough emotion to spare to react-let alone shout, or cry, or do anything else. "That's not your place, Edward," was all I said.
He nodded. "Yes. I understand. It's Jacob's place, now."
"No," I corrected, "it's my place."
He didn't seem to know how to respond to that; as near as I could tell, my words didn't even sink in. I remembered what Jasper had said: For a vampire of his age, he's even relatively stable. But our kind do not stay human for long.
It made sense to me, now. It didn't matter that I had killed Victoria or rescued Kim or even walked from one room to another without falling over. Edward didn't comprehend that I could take care of myself, and there was no explanation that he would comprehend. He couldn't change the way he thought. He couldn't change, period. He was a vampire.
I tried to steer the conversation a little. "Are you leaving, then?"
"We are. It's what Carlisle wanted." He lowered his golden eyes to the floor between his feet. "From the moment we learned of Victoria's demise, he attempted to convince me that we should go. If I had listened, then perhaps... out of respect for his memory, I'll obey him now."
"Where will you go?"
"Esme is headed for Volterra," said Edward, "to be part of whatever happens next." He looked out the window-the sky was steel gray, as always-and focused on something only he could see. "Our world needs authority, and with the Volturi gone, someone will be stepping in to that power vacuum. Esme wants our hunting habits to have influence-not only for the sake of the other vegetarian vampires, but because Carlisle would have wished it. I believe Rosalie and Emmett intend to stay with her, at least for the time being."
"And you?"
His ghostly face turned dark. "I am going to hunt for Jasper." I made a disbelieving noise, and he held up his hand. "If Jasper had been there, none of this carnage would have occurred. He could have easily used his powers to avert the interest of the Volturi, but instead, he left us to our fates without a backward glance." Cold hatred threaded through his words. "He will pay for Carlisle's death, as well as the deaths of your father and the wolves."
"But the Volturi are gone, now." That was the bright spot that had gotten me through the last few days; it was what Jacob had repeated to himself during our sleepless nights. "If Jasper had been here... maybe they would have gone back to Italy, but who knows how many other people they would have killed over time." I wet my lips. "Sam and Quil and Carlisle knew what they were dying for. Charlie did too, sort of. Maybe... maybe Jasper made the right decision, even if it was for the wrong reasons."
Edward was unmoved by my words; I knew that a thousand unnamed innocents who may have been saved meant nothing to him when compared to the few faces he'd known. "There is no justification that will save Jasper when I find him," he said. "I will locate he and Alice, and when I do, there will be a reckoning."
Privately, I felt absolutely certain he would never find Jasper until Jasper was ready to be found. Maybe there would be a reckoning, but it would be on Jasper's terms, not Edward's. "Good luck with that," I said aloud.
He nodded... and stared at me, unblinking, for the space of several of my breaths. It was such a short while ago, really, that he had been my whole world. So much so that his absence had left me catatonic, anchorless, broken.
I would not break, this time.
Edward rose to his feet, and I did as well. Giving me a pained look, he said, "May I... I know that I have no right to ask this, Bella, but may I visit you, one day? Ten, twenty, fifty years from now, it makes no difference to me. It never will."
In fifty years I would be nearly seventy, with white hair and wrinkles and a stooped back. Edward Cullen would not fit into that life. I'd always known it. "I don't think so," I said.
His expression was grieved, but unsurprised. "Then this is goodbye," he murmured as I walked him to the door. Those golden topaz eyes that I had loved so much-that had, in so many ways, made me the person I'd become-searched my face. If they could have filled with tears, I knew they would have. "Bella... know that you will possess my heart for all eternity. Please, remember that."
"I won't forget." I would never forget.
The sound of the hinges creaking shut, of the knob clicking into place, filled my senses and seemed to echo through the entire house. Renée called from the kitchen, "Is he gone?"
I touched my palm to the door. "Yes," I said. "He's gone."
***
The La Push funeral I did remember.
Five people had died: two in their homes, one in the hospital, and of course Sam and Quil, who had officially lost their lives rescuing others from the fire. A tribal elder whom I'd never met led the service; I didn't know the language, so all I could do was lean into Jacob's side and look at the faces around me. Old Quil sat near the front, his head bowed in grief, unable to speak when the elder motioned to him. A woman who could only be Sam's mother-the resemblance was uncanny-looked nearly comatose. Emily was pale and silent; Leah sobbed into Sue's shoulder. Jacob moved his hand to the small of my back, just under my shirt, and I felt him draw the strength he needed from my skin.
But what made the hour so terrible, what burned the memory of the funeral into my brain for what I was sure would be the rest of my life, was the two-year-old girl crying hysterically in the back row. Finally Claire's father carried her out, but I could still hear her in the parking lot, and I felt the cold clawing through me at the sound.
Afterwards, everyone wandered outside and down the short walk to First Beach, not ready to go home yet but also not sure what to say. Jacob and I spent a few minutes talking to people I barely knew-mostly answering questions about how Billy's recovery was coming-when I spotted Emily hovering over by the old bone-white driftwood tree. Even from a distance I could see how her fingers traced absently against twisted tentacled roots. Less than three months ago Jacob had sat on that very tree and answered the exact questions I'd asked him, as his Alpha had ordered him to do.
I pulled away from the others with a murmur and made my way to Emily's side; she didn't look up as I approached. "I'm sorry," I said quietly.
Emily shrugged. "Everyone keeps telling me how sorry they are," she said. Her voice sounded hollow, lifeless. "What am I supposed to do with all their sorrow? I don't even know what to do with my own."
There was nothing for me to say to that; the grief I suffered was of a different kind. My father was gone, but Jacob still stood alive and whole only two hundred feet away. "Is there anything you need?" I asked, knowing there wasn't, at least not anything I could provide.
She started to shake her head-then smiled wryly. "Well," she said, "if you see Sam's mom drinking out of a bottle in her purse, throw her in the ocean."
"You mean the purse?"
"No, I mean her."
"I'll do my best," I promised.
"Good. Thank you." Emily's fingers wrapped around one of the roots and tugged lightly. "I still want to smack her, you know," she said. "That... feeling? The one where you want to kill whatever hurts him?" I nodded, and she continued, "It's still there. It's not gone yet. But it wouldn't be very polite to try to drown your almost-mother-in-law on the day of her son's funeral." Emily was silent for a long moment, then she looked up at me for the first time. "How are you doing?"
Now it was my turn to shrug. "I don't know. People keep telling me they're sorry, too. And I've got all this stuff I'm supposed to sort through..." The thought of the pile of papers sitting in Billy's kitchen made me shudder. "My dad's will, his pension, the deed to the house, even things like getting his car insurance transferred into my name..."
"I had to do that when Grandmother died," Emily said. "I'd just turned eighteen and she left me her home. It was a mess. I can help you, if you'd like."
"I can't, you've got so much stuff-"
"It's fine. Please." She swallowed. "It'd be nice to focus on something, you know?"
I did know. "Okay. Thank you." I glanced down the beach, at where Jacob was talking to his sisters. "Rachel and Rebecca will be happy to have their kitchen table back," I said bitterly. "They hate me."
"They don't hate you. Jacob's just their little brother." Emily raised an eyebrow. "It could be worse-imagine Leah's reaction if you'd moved in with Seth."
That didn't even bear thinking about. "I'm going to have to go back to Forks soon, so they'll relax then," I said.
"You don't have to." I frowned in confusion, and Emily looked down. "I know things are different now," she said awkwardly, "but... if you'd like it, you could still come live with me, the way we were planning."
I blinked. "Really? You don't mind?"
"No. I was really looking forward to it, actually... but, just so you know, you might mind." At my questioning look, she gave me a humorless smile. "I'm pregnant."
My eyes widened, and my mouth moved soundlessly for a moment before I managed to say, "Um, congratulations." I hoped that was what she wanted to hear. A baby... babies were wonderful things, but there was so much going on right now, so many life changes to deal with...
Emily seemed to follow my line of thought. "Don't tell anyone yet," she cautioned. "I'll let people know in a few weeks, once things have calmed down a little. But even if you only want to stay for a little while, until you figure out what you want to do next, you wouldn't have to worry about three AM screaming until December."
"Right." Now that I knew to look, I could see the early curves of Emily's belly. I wondered if she'd told Sam-then decided not to ask. At least not now. "I'd really like to live with you," I said honestly, "for a few months, anyway. We can figure things out after that."
Her smile was the first genuine one I'd seen that day, which wasn't all that surprising. "Okay, then."
"Okay." I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye-Jacob was motioning to me. "I'm going back," I said. "Do you want to come too?"
Emily glanced over at the crowd of people still standing on the beach. "No," she whispered. "Later, maybe." As I walked away, I realized for the first time that she'd been keeping the scarred side of her face turned away. Sam wasn't there to protect her, anymore; Emily was going to have to interact with the world again.
But maybe she would learn. As my feet shifted in the rocky sand, I noticed that Kim was kneeling near the waves, pointing at something in a tide pool. Claire sat next to her, wet to her waist but no longer crying. In fact, every time Kim patted her on the back and said something in her ear, the little girl's face seemed to lighten fractionally.
If Claire could recover, then so could the rest of us.
***
That night, Rachel and Rebecca took their turn at the hospital on what I knew had to be Jake's suggestion. I drew a long, hot bath, my stupid cast still hanging over the side of the tub-I had to wait three more days for the new appointment to have it removed-then dried off, tied up my hair, and padded my way to Jacob's room.
He sat on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands.
I took off my towel without a word.
Later, once it felt like maybe we were both still alive, I asked Jacob tonelessly, "Did I kill Charlie?"
His hand stopped stroking my sweaty back. "What?"
"Did I kill Charlie?" I repeated. The sheets under my cheek were threadbare; I could smell the fabric softener between the fibers. "I was the one who brought everything down on him. If not for me he would never have had anything to do with vampires or werewolves, he'd still be-"
"Aw, honey." Jake hugged me tight, and his warmth soaked into my chest. "Don't, okay? It wasn't your fault."
I laughed hollowly. "Jake, you have to say things like that-"
"No, it's true. Look." He pulled me up closer-he was so much bigger than I was-until I could rest my chin against his shoulder and his lips brushed my ear. "Sam phased before you ever came to Forks," he murmured. "And vampires were already passing through. The Italian bloodsuckers found out about us because we killed the black-haired leech. They would have come no matter what, and your dad would have run down here to help. Nothing would have stopped him, you know that."
"But Laurent came back because Victoria asked him to. Because of me." If I'd never gone to play baseball with the Cullens in the first place, if I'd never met James-
"You didn't ask for any of that, Bells. You didn't. None of this happened because you fought all the time, or didn't listen to what people were trying to tell you-" his voice grew thick "-or tried to dodge your responsibilities and thought you knew better..."
Sometimes I wondered if we had enough comfort to give one another. If there was even enough comfort in the world. "If you hadn't left," I whispered, wrapping my arms around his neck and tangling my legs in his, "then you would have been at the battle and La Push would have burned down. Do you think Sam would have wanted that?"
"No."
"Well, then." We were as close as two people could get, but still I wanted to be closer, to give more, to take more. Mine. "I love you, Jacob."
"I love you too," he mumbled. My neck was wet where his face was pressed against it. "I wish I'd never dragged you into this."
"That wasn't your fault, either." Jacob couldn't help the imprint any more than Sam could, or Quil, or Jared-
-and there was something that might make him feel better. "Hey, wait," I said, squirming away a little so that I could look him in the face and smile. "So, tell me: What's your big plan to beat the imprint? No Muggles around now."
My joke fell flat; Jacob rolled away, staring up at the ceiling with a grim expression. "Don't worry about it," he muttered. "I should never have said anything in the first place."
"What? Why not?"
"It doesn't matter anymore."
"What doesn't matter?"
"Seriously, Bells. Not important."
Irritation flowered bright and hot in my chest. "Tell me," I snapped.
An instant later, I didn't know what felt worse: the fact that I had given the order, or the fact that Jacob didn't seem surprised to receive it. I'd watched Emily give Sam orders lots of times... and neither of them had ever even paused. Apparently, Jake and I were sliding down that same slope.
"I was going to stop phasing," Jacob said quietly.
I shelved my dismay for the time being and raised myself onto my elbows. Jake's face was lit by the sliver of moonlight coming in from above the curtains. "You can do that?"
"In theory," he said. "The legends say so, anyway. I was stuck on those planes with Jasper forever and all I could think about was you, and how I could make this better... and I thought, maybe if I stopped, and I wasn't so much of a wolf anymore... even if the imprint didn't go away, maybe it would be weaker. Be less of who we are."
My mind tried to turn through this new concept, even as the imprint pull inside me started to shudder in protest-no no mine his no! "But what about the rest of the Pack?" I said.
Jake glanced over and smiled sadly. "Sam told me not to come back," he said. "If I stopped phasing he wouldn't have to deal with me anymore, so... I figured he'd be the idea's biggest fan."
"But he's gone," I said slowly, understanding now why Jacob had said it didn't matter anymore. "And you have to be Alpha."
"Yep." Empty, defeated resignation rolled off of Jacob in waves. "Paul's been handling stuff while I've been distracted with Dad," and you, he didn't say, because he didn't have to, "but that's gotta stop. I've put this off for way too long. I hate the imprint, and I love you-"
"-but you have responsibilities," I completed.
You're going to have to learn to share, Sam had said.
When I nuzzled back into Jacob's embrace, the thrumming thing inside-the part that wasn't human, the part that wasn't me-purred with satisfaction. "It'll be okay," I whispered. "We'll be okay."
Jake's chest rose and fell as he took a shuddering breath, and his fingers came up to touch my face-across my forehead, down my nose, brushing my cheeks in a pattern I now recognized. Then he moved over me, followed the same pattern with his lips, and held my body against his for the rest of the night.
***
The next morning, Rachel and Rebecca called with the good news: Billy was being released from the hospital in only a few hours. Jacob drove off to Forks to help, leaving me to wonder where my place in the world was now, and if I would ever get my feet underneath me again.
I decided to go rummage in the kitchen and see what diabetic-friendly but filling stuff I could find to make supper for everyone. I hadn't looked at much before the screen door slammed; I came out into the living room to see Paul standing awkwardly in the doorway, looking like he wanted to walk right back out. "Hi," I said, startled. "Are you looking for Jake?"
"Yeah, but he's not here, is he." He wasn't asking, but I shook my head no anyway. Paul grimaced. "I'm still getting used to this finding people thing. I thought he was around-but I should've known it felt different. I guess it was because you're here being all imprint-y or whatever."
His harsh tone made me fidget nervously. "Do you want to sit down?" I gestured at the couch. "I was just going to make some lunch-"
"No," he said shortly.
So much for that. I kept hoping that sooner or later Paul would like me, or at least not dislike me quite so much, but that didn't seem to be happening. Even if he didn't want to be friends, though... "Listen, I want to thank you."
Paul gave me a wary look. "For what?" he said suspiciously.
"For being acting Alpha," I explained. "This last week... it's been really rough on everyone. It has to have been rough on you, too." Sam and Quil has been his brothers, same as Jacob's. "So I just... thank you. For giving Jake a chance to breathe before taking over. He needed it." I swallowed and looked down at the floor. "I needed it."
"Whatever." Paul's bare feet shifted, like he couldn't wait to get away as fast as he could. "It's no big deal."
"It is a big deal," I insisted. Maybe I couldn't make Paul like me, but I had to at least make him understand how grateful I was. "You know how much Jake and I hate this-"
"Everyone knows how much you and Jake hate this."
"-and having these few days to just... learn to accept things..." My words were failing me. "We got this time where it was still a little bit about being Jacob and Bella instead of being the Alpha and an imprint, and no phasing or wolf stuff and that means so... please, Paul, it is a big deal. Thank you."
When I glanced back up, Paul was staring at me with an expression I didn't understand. I wondered if I had just made things worse, somehow-though how this could have been worse than seeing him throw up in Emily's bushes, I wasn't sure-when he looked back out onto the porch sharply. A moment later I heard the sound of the Rabbit's tires crunching against gravel.
"There he is," I said, smiling.
"Yeah," said Paul. "There he is."
We both went out into the yard; Jacob was alone, pulling a duffel bag out of the trunk of the car. "Billy's stuff," he said unnecessarily, tossing the bag onto the porch. "Rach and Beck are getting him discharged, they'll be on their way soon."
He cut off as Paul walked down the steps with a nod. "Jake," Paul said.
"Hey." I felt Jacob's unhappiness like a physical reaction; it was my heart that slowed, my shoulders than slumped. But I also felt his determination in my spine as Paul came up to him. "Okay," he said, "I don't know how this works. Are we supposed to shake on it, or something?" He put out his hand-
-and Paul slapped it aside. "Fuck you," he spat.
I gasped.
"What's your problem?" Jacob demanded, looking floored.
"You're my problem." This time he shoved Jake backwards; Jake was too stunned to dodge, and he slipped unevenly in the mud. "You think you get to lead because of, what, some damn bloodline? Destiny? Sam might've believed that, but I don't."
"What the hell are you talking-"
"Do I need to spell it out for you, Jake? I'm Alpha now, and I'm not stepping aside."
My mouth worked soundlessly in disbelief. Jacob's face reflected the same shocked incredulity, along with growing anger. "Paul, what do you think you're doing?"
Paul shoved him again. This time Jake's feet were planted and he didn't move an inch; a snarl emerged from his throat, and I found myself grabbing the duffel bag, ready to throw it at Paul's head. Paul ignored us both. "It's for the good of the Pack, dumbass. Maybe you haven't been paying attention, but I have. Imprints are a liability. I'm sure as hell not going to watch the Pack be led by another wolf whose brain turns to mush whenever a girl stubs her toe."
Jacob's face turned red. "Don't talk about Sam like that," he snapped. "He was a good Alpha-"
"Like you ever noticed," Paul retorted. "You and Sam and Quil and Jared, scrambling everyone's minds every six seconds-no. The hell with that. Maybe there was a time that imprints were good for us, but they're not anymore." He paused. "In fact, I think you should quit phasing period. I'm gonna tell Jared the same thing. Maybe I'll even order him."
"Are you crazy?" shouted Jacob. He was starting to shake. "Just because I thinking- there's not enough people, Paul-"
"Collin and Brady are going to phase any day." Paul tapped his temple. "I can feel it, up here. Between them, me, Leah, Seth, and Embry, that's more than enough. We killed the leech in the meadow with just five. And you really think another band of bloodsuckers is gonna come sweeping back through here, when they hear about how we wiped out their kings and queens? No, Jake, I think we'll manage just fine without you."
I watched as Jacob's fists clenched and unclenched, as a whole war was fought beneath his skin. "It's my responsibility," he said finally, the words coming through gritted teeth. "I'm not just gonna force it onto you or someone else. I did that to Sam. I won't do it again."
Paul leaned in close to Jacob, and his entire shape ripped-but he kept control. "I'm not asking your permission," he growled. "If you want to be Alpha, you can fight me for it-but I'll win. You don't want this. I do."
Jacob hesitated, and for a moment, the outline of his body blurred into the misty air... but then he pressed his fists to his temples as I'd seen him do so many times before. His frame returned to its stable, human form. "Okay," he said, the word seeming to stick in his throat. "Okay."
"Smart choice." Paul backed up and glanced at the tree line. "I've got stuff to handle," he said, "but I'll see you around, and if I catch you phasing I'll kick your ass."
"Okay," Jacob muttered. He seemed disoriented, like a box of shaken puzzle pieces. "I... thanks."
Paul snorted. "I'm not doing it for you."
Once he was gone, Jacob and I just looked at each other, completely at a loss.
***
A few days later I watched as the doctor cut through my cast. "There we go," he said, pulling away the end of the plaster and giving me a quick smile. "Wiggle around and see how it feels, Bella."
I stretched my fingers, and then curled them. They were fine. Completely healed.
I'd broken them on Sam's face.
On my wrist, pale even against my pale skin, was the shiny half-moon where James had bitten me and Edward had sucked the venom from my blood.
And the burns from Victoria mottling my left palm.
Charlie had sat by my bedside after each injury.
"You have quite a few scars, don't you?" said the doctor pleasantly, looking at my hands.
"Yeah," I said...
...and I burst into tears.
***
Epilogue: Life
Sanity Update, Audrey Edition: This is late because I had three Christmas dinners with family and getting into fights about Maggie Thatcher is not good for the creative writing process, unless you are writing 'Billy Eliot', which I was not.
Because I suspect people will wonder and I don't want to leave it open-ended: No. Paul does not imprint on Rachel. This is not because he never sees Rachel, nor is it because his affection for Bella stops it from happening. The imprint does not occur because -- for once -- I am flatly rejecting canon. It is not for the convenience of the story. It is because the imprinting was incredibly stupid. There was absolutely no point to it in canon -- nothing was accomplished, nothing was gained, no plot points were moved forward, no characters were developed. It. Was. Dumb. Also, in my slowly-developed head canon, Rachel is gay (I do not know why) which would add a whole extra level of squick to the process. Anyway, the point is, there is no sneaky story-deviation plot reason for the change. It is simply me giving my middle finger to Stephenie Meyer.
Only the epilogue left, guys.