A/N: This story is canon up to the break-up in New Moon. This is my first fanfic, so reviews of any sort will be greatly appreciated. I am attempting to remain true to most of the characters, so let me know if they come off too OOC. The story will live up to its rating, and may contain some dark and sensitive content. Also, this story contains femslash – Alice/Bella – so if you object to that kind of thing I suggest you stop reading right about now.
The title for this chapter is taken from Rob Thomas' Her Diamonds. All of my chapter titles will be taken from music that I think fits the chapter. There will likely be more then one chapter titled using lyrics form some songs, so listening could be a little repetitive, but I do suggest listening to the songs on the off chance that they enhance the reading in the same way that they enhanced the writing. Another song I listened to for this chapter was the piano composition River Runs in You by Yiruma. I highly suggest listening to this wonderful piece of music.
Disclaimer: Everything twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer; only the alternate storyline belongs to me. The title of the story is taken from Rob Thomas' All That I Am.
PROLOGUE: If She Can Find Daylight
...Then she'll be alright. She'll be alright, just not tonight.
Sunset over the Olympic Peninsula was a muted fire behind the shroud of monotonous, swirling grey that spanned the sky. It's light fanned across the the ocean in a distorted reflection as the sun met the water in a final embrace before drowning beneath the line of the horizon. Across the sky, the moon, in comparison, was a dim glimmer amongst the clouds; no more than trickle of it's milky, eerie light reached the landscape below it. The lights of the small town of Forks began to glitter between the trees as darkness approached.
The world was unusually quiet as the day's final minutes slipped away to the timeless cloak of the encroaching night. The hum of activity that permeated the daytime forest faded; the mingling of bird song and insect wings, of predator and prey gave way to the silence of the night with a strange abruptness. Only the distant clamour of civilization and the occasional traffic on the town of Fork's lonely coastal roads persisted. As the last light bled from the sky, the strange atmosphere persisted. Moths' wings remained still, their nightly flights forgotten, for now. Perched high on a branch in a towering pine, a great grey owl watched the moonrise with round-eyed intensity. Far below it, rodents paused along their scurrying way, little noses twitching. Even the breeze seemed to still, and the local flora along with it. The humid air was charged with grim expectation as the wilderness turned it's collective attention to the outskirts Forks, where its broken child wandered.
She was a young woman, her creamy, pale skin seeming to glow slightly in the broken light of dusk, and her chestnut curtain of hair a dark shadow around her face. Her shoulders were a slumped, defeated line. She stumbled often in her aimless trek, obviously exhausted and weak; and yet her movements never ceased. She walked onwards as if in a numb, lonely fog.
She called out as she went, her voice a ragged but beautiful and rich bell tone. "Edward? Edward, wait! Come back! Please!" The words were a mantra, shouted over and over until her foot caught on a tree root and her body came crashing to the ground.
For a moment she lay unmoving and silent, the side of her face pressed into the soft moss of the forest floor and her arms crumpled beneath her. Then she shifted, groaning as she sat upright and brought her legs around in front of her to sit cross-legged on the ground. She looked up towards the tree-tops, revealing chocolate eyes and a pretty face. The numbness seemed to seep away from her, a desperate light catching fire in the rich brown of her eyes.
"Edward!" Her voice rang out again, this time frantic. When there was no answer, tears started to stream down her face, though it was still expressionless save for the wild emotion in her eyes. Her chest shuddered and quaked. She began calling again, her voice now softened by repressed sobs. "Carlisle? Emmet?" The only answer was the rustling tear of moss giving way beneath her panicked hands. "Esme? Rosalie? Please! Jasper?" The world stayed silent, unresponsive. For a time, she was quiet too, seeming to fight the emotion overtaking her. But before long, her face crumpled and the cries erupted from within her. She curled in on herself, allowing the strangled noises to rip from her throat. As the sobs got harder, louder, she seemed to gather the last vestiges of her strength in order to scream out one last name, the last and strongest hope. "Alice! Alice, please! Where are you?" It echoed emptily in the tense and soundless wilderness, bouncing off of tree trunks and the canopy above her small form. "Alice, come back! I need you!" Again, nothing but her own ragged yells. "Alice! Alice! ALICE!"
The screams continued, the last name clawing through her throat over and over again.
While the young woman had first been wandering and calling, a pale, blurred figure had been racing northward, away from her. About ten miles north of where she had begun to come undone, he came to an abrupt halt in a clearing where six other figures waited. His skin was a glimmering white in the moonlight; he was a lithe form etched out of marble and topped with tousled bronze. His face was angry, jaw clenched.
"What are you doing here?" He snapped out the question curtly, a faint growl in his voice.
His six companions, all similarly statuesque, turned their sad gazes away from where their heightened senses could hear the desperation start to grow in the broken girl's voice. They all seemed oblivious to the eerie atmosphere in the wilderness, too caught up in their own still and silent vigil. Four sets of golden eyes settled on the bronze haired man, all guilty and resigned. One golden set turned disdainfully away, a sneer curling the lips of their blonde haired, goddess-like owner. One set of eyes was black, trained on the speaker with savage resentment. The onyx eyes were framed by spiked, black hair. A hiss seethed through the bared teeth of their tiny, pixie-like owner.
For a moment, there was nothing but strained silence among the seven vampires in the clearing. Then the newcomer continued, "I was going to meet you in Denali. You were supposed to leave." He seemed to be speaking solely to the little pixie now.
The little black-haired vampire visibly fought to pull herself together face her challenger. Her eyes cleared, the furious black receding to reveal misery laden golden. "I know, Edward," she said, "but we needed to say goodbye. Even if she doesn't hear it." The rest of the family murmured in agreement, save for the sneering blonde. For a moment Edward remained rigid, his face still tense, before he heaved an unnecessary sigh and seemed to deflate.
"Well, in any case, we need to leave now. Staying longer won't do her any go-"
"Edward!" He was cut off by the particularly piercing cry from the south. Then there was silence, providing false relief to the guilt-ridden vampires, until the worst part started. The other names. Names ripped from a ragged throat, saturated with hurt and pleading. Carlisle bowed his head as he was beckoned, eyes squeezed shut and hands fisted. Emmet stared, desolate, at the ground before blurring out of the clearing, away from the sound. Esme let out a dry sob and followed. Rosalie stiffened in surprise, her head turning towards the voice and the ire in her eyes softening with pity for a brief moment. Then she threw a contemptuous glare in Edward's direction and stalked slowly away, pulling Carlisle with her. Jasper hung his head with guilt, but stood by, his hand rested on the little black-haired girl's shoulder.
When her name was first called, Alice stood her ground, much like Carlisle had, with emotion weighing down on tiny, hunched shoulders. But the screams kept coming, louder and louder, laced with tears and betrayal, and the pixie-like vampire turned her delicate face towards them, the black bleeding into her irises once more. Beside her, Jasper's eyes turned as well, and he fell to his knees, clutching his head. Edward barely moved in time, but his body intercepted her headlong sprint in the direction of her summons with a resounding crash.
"Alice, stop! You can't go to her. She needs this! We aren't right for her!" Edward's voice was low and urgent in her ear as he fought to hold her back. His arms wrapped around her waist lifted her off the ground. She writhed in his grasp, clawing at his shoulders and back. "Alice, you need to calm down, your, rage is hurting Jasper."
"No! I'm her friend! She needs me! She needs me!" Alice's voice was feral as she repeated her mantra over and over.
Across the clearing, Jasper stood up, a look of concentration on his face. Alice's struggles slowed and weakened until all she could do was beat loose fists feebly against her brother's back and mumble her protests. Edward carried her away, followed by Jasper.
"She won't need you forever. Bella will get over us, Alice, I promise. She'll get over me."
Later, when night had fully fallen and the stars sparkled between the tree branches, Bella had toppled over onto her side and now lay curled on the moss. Her arms were wrapped around her stomach as if they were the only things holding her together. Her screams had been reduced to soundless movements of her lips, but the tears stilled streamed down a face contorted with pain.
Around her, the forest started to come alive again. A breeze sprung up, sifting through the leaves and pine needles. Wing-beats softly filled the air as the owl glided by over-head to perch on a bough in a near-by cedar, its yellow eyes keeping watch over the prone human below it. Rodents scurried, and moths fluttered. In the distance to the west, on the ocean-side cliffs of La Push, the Quileute Reserve, two colossal wolves – one chocolate and one steel grey – and a muscular, russet-skinned young man turned their gazes east as they felt the change in the air. The weight that all of nature for miles around had felt was lifted. In its place was purpose.
Energy seemed to surge through the land, the wolves and the man could feel it, as could all of the other animals. They felt it like a command in their veins. Foliage rustled and shifted as though feeling it as well. Their purpose was a collective one, shared with by all of the living things in the area. The order: heal. Outside of Forks, where Bella lay wrapped up in her abandonment, the surge was focused. Sounds of night-time wildlife busily permeated the space, soft and comforting, and the girl's features softened, her tense form relaxing slightly. Grasses and the little, brightly coloured wildflowers of the forest floor started growing, creeping across the mossy bed towards the huddled, shivering figure. Within minutes, the flora had formed an intertwined blanket of green vines and grasses and blue and purple flowers over the girl's body, with stalks growing up between the fingers of loosened fists and petals caressing the now-smooth planes of her face. A soft rain pattered out a lullaby on the ground and her skin and clothes, washing away tear-tracks. The only thing that remained of her distress amongst the determined soothing of the world around her was a tiny furrowed line between her brows and the silent movement of her lips as they still formed the name of her last futile hope.
Back at the reservation, in a little red house a man with weathered russet skin and a long braid of black and silver hair sat in a wheelchair, watching television in a small living room. There was a knock at the door, but no wait for a reply before it opened to reveal a woman. Her skin and hair were the same colour as the man's, and she looked to be similarly middle-aged. Her dark hair hung loose, reaching the small waist of her petite frame. She didn't enter the house, only standing at the threshold.
"Sue," the man greeted in a baritone rumble. "Charlie Swan just called. His daughter's missing. He thinks she's lost in the forest somewhere. I figured you'd have somethin' to say before I send the boys off to look."
Sue nodded. "Yes," she said, and her voice was distracted, far away. Her umber eyes were as well. "The child has started to awaken. Sam and the boys will have felt it. They will find her tonight, but that is not all that they must do. They must continue to watch over her. She will need the wolves and you and I, Billy. Things will start changing very soon."
Billy nodded gravely, with newly troubled eyes. Sue turned and left, closing the door behind her, her message delivered.
Two hours later, the two wolves who had sat with the muscled young man on the cliffs of La Push prowled, this time joined by a third black wolf that was bigger than either of them. The three loped through the woods, ears pricked and heads and tails low as they followed the purpose in their blood. Before long, they came to their goal, sleeping and wrapped in wildflowers on the forest floor. For a moment, the wolves simply watched, seeming to be entranced by the sight before them, before the largest beast – the size of a horse, plus a whole lot of extra muscle – began to shudder.
Its shaped blurred, refusing to properly catch the eye as fur receded and mass disappeared into thin air. When the figure was defined again, the two wolves' human companion from the cliffs was revealed, this time lacking the cut-off denim shorts he had worn earlier. His skin and hair were the same colour as those of the man and woman from the little red house on the reservation, though his skin was smooth with youth and his hair was very short, lacking the silver streaking. He reached down to pull a folded wad of fabric from an elastic band around his ankle, which showed itself to be the shorts from earlier when he pulled them on.
Once dressed, the man padded forward on soft feet and bent over the young woman's limp form.
"Isabella," his voice was soft, like his hands as he ghosted his fingers up the line of her jaw, gently brushing the leaves and flower petals away from her face. His touch and his gaze were reverent, as though the girl below him was something precious and rare. He frowned upon noticing the line between her eyebrows and the never-ceasing movement of her lips to form a silent, unknown word. After another moment spent clearing the foliage from her body, he lifted her into his arms. He was careful – oh so careful – not to jostle or wake her, but he needn't have worried; she had been thoroughly lulled.
With a jerk of his chin, the man sent the two wolves running back out to the forest while he cradled Isabella in his arms protectively. "You're safe now, Isabella," he murmured, and started the hike towards Forks and the girl's waiting father.
