A/N: Okay. Believe it or not, this was initially meant to be a one shot, but due to my inability to shut up it seems, this has turned into a freaking standalone fic, running parallel with my focal fic APiTW.

If you're looking for immediate Jessie fluff, I'm afraid you've stumbled on something slightly...different. Our smexy Wolf will waltz into our immediate view in chapter BLLAAANK. After that, my full attention is on those two, and those two alone. So, yes, i'll be concentrating on Jacob and Renesmee. A warning though, I bring new meaning to the word 'fluff.' I may test many-a-gagging reflexes. Just a heads up.

Thanks to pinkpower -an awesome friend I've come to know, who's come to make me realise I have all these one shots just sitting on my laptop, and I feel it's just a waste of my time to not post them up for you guys to have your say, you know? Really, I had no idea fanfiction existed until several months ago… woohoo! I knew I wasn't going crazy for wanting to write and jot down ideas for my fave characters! Any who, it's dedicated to her. What a seriously awesome girl and beta. Thanks!

I hope you guys like :)

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. This fic was heavily influenced by an episode of Smallville I watched last year. I've forgotten the name of said ep. Sorry. Also, there are parts/lines of Nessie's internal monologue, which are also influenced by Meredith's own, from Grey's Anatomy.


***

"I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity."

Edgar Allan Poe

***


In the hospital we see addiction every day. In fact it's shocking how many kinds of addiction exist.

We get easily addicted to money...alcohol... narcotics... food... sex...even cats apparently.

I think the hardest part in kicking a habit is feeling the need to kick it. When we know we're addicted to something we shouldn't be, it's then that we realise we have a problem.

My problem just so happens to be my best friend. But did I really want to go cold turkey on Jacob? Was I ready to give him up? These were answers I already knew at the back of my mind, but simply didn't want to face.

I mean, we develop addictions for a reason, right? They tell us that we can't live without that one thing.

***

"Renesmee, perhaps it's wise for you to go home and wait for Jacob there?"

With my thoughts elsewhere in that moment, absently sanitizing my hands and prepping for surgery, it was then that I was aware of my grandfather standing to my right. It was hard to ignore the concern apparent on his fiercely beautiful features.

I tried to flash him a reassuring smile.

Today was going to be a good day, I told myself. I had to believe that. My first time getting to scrub in on a surgery. . .

This was going to be exciting.

"Renesmee?"

"I'm fine, grandda- Dr. Cullen." I replied softly, abruptly remembering he wasn't my grandfather at work. I launched an arm to dry my hands with a sterile towel, silently chastising myself for the slip up despite no one actually being there to hear us. Really, this was me grabbing any chance to avoid the feel of his severe eyes on me, pitying me. "The procedure can take my mind off things..."

And indeed it would. I was going to operate on a seven year old today. Born with a hereditary heart defect. Today was a day he had waited over five years for. Today, I would help him get a new heart.

Carlisle didn't look convinced, his unusual amber eyes so full of understated worry that it actually made me feel irrational guilt. I say irrational, because I haven't done anything. "Nessie, I know you're worried. I wouldn't hold it against you if you chose to wait for him at home-"

Without really thinking about it, I let my eyes briefly scan the empty room before replying. "Granddad, Jacob's a big boy." I said, trying more so to convince myself if anything. Big boy or not, it didn't stop this gnawing feeling inside from boiling over. "I'm sure he can take care of himself."

Even I was surprised at how convincing I sounded for a moment. The words sounded confident as they left my lips, yet why did I feel this gut wrenching, almost painful need to be with him?

It was crazy, and I knew it. I couldn't explain it. In fact, I immediately frowned at the compulsive ache, lingering on the longing to be with him.

As I did this, my grandfather, I noticed, didn't miss a beat and looked at me with his ever kind, yet equally dubious eyes.

Now he definitely wasn't convinced. And to be perfectly honest, I wasn't surprised. In comparison to the rest of my devastatingly beautiful, gloriously immortal family, my inherent human attributes left me in the dust when it came to feigning or convincing anyone belonging to the supernatural. In fact as a child, I grew sceptical of my abilities to do so. So I really don't know why I was trying now.

I inhaled an avaricious lungful, and instantly recoiled, remembering where I was. Working in Seattle's Children's Hospital, occasionally with Carlisle, my paternal grandfather, was an interesting experience for a vampire hybrid. The patent musk of human blood was invariably more overpowering here. With every intake of breath, I could quite literally taste the crimson sweet, saturating the seemingly oppressive air. On an unusually bad day, I merely got irritable and would go to the blood bank during lunch to satiate the beast from with in. If only, to prevent any…er…accidents from ever happening.

So now, I was distantly aware it had been almost a fortnight since I had hunted. I would be okay today. I only ever got irritable. Never tempted. For me, I was simply paranoid.

Throwing the instinctual need to feed aside, I tried to swallow back the uncomfortable ache- a result of my inhaling- and flinched almost reflexively as the strained knot at the back of my throat was beginning to get more difficult to ignore. I wasn't sure whether that was because of the sudden panic- the need to be near him or whether it was simply the thirst. Even so, I wouldn't let the thirst overwhelm me. It was uncomfortable, but always bearable. Right now, not seeing a certain wolf was painfully unbearable.

Without so much as a flinch, granddad too, inhaled loudly.

And then it was times like these; I quietly wondered how my remarkable grandfather coped. After all, I was a halfie. My pain was comparatively diminutive and pathetic in comparison to his own.

He was incredible.

And then I was abruptly aware why he was even here: To stop me from operating. My grandfather wasn't on the surgical ward. After Dartmouth, I decided to specialise and concluded that my destiny lied in Paediatric surgery. Carlisle however, committed his over-two-decades worth of medicine on general practitioning. Under the watchful eyes of more senior doctors, the internship in Seattle allowed me to use what I learned in medical school as well as acquiring much needed clinical skills. Ordering and reviewing labs, performing medical procedures and coordinating patient care were essential components in my clockwork life right now.

In fact, much to Alice's growing impatience and not to mention annoyance, my cancelling many a 'lunch dates' –code for heavy dose of retail therapy- was usually down to work. It was all consuming right now. Indeed it was a decision I made long ago. A time when I feared my feelings for Jake were –are just…wrong. It was an effort to avoid the embarrassment, the absolute heartache, the feeling of putting myself out there, when I knew in my heart he merely cared for me as a good friend should: It was purely a platonic love and through innocent, tender exchanges, he made this fact abundantly clear to me. Embarrassingly so. I was the equivalent of a little sister to him. And did I resent him for that? No. Never. How could I?

He only ever sees the best in me. If he knew I felt the way I did, I was sure he'd feel aghast and mildly disturbed. And that agonizing thought alone, rendered me broken. It would simply be excruciating, unbearable for him to hate me – for him to be physically disgusted with me. So I wouldn't allow that to happen. For years, after my seventh birthday, I kept myself occupied, living my life in the most normal way I could possibly know how. Though, I was again, all too aware of the irrational, uncompromising need to have him in my life -in any way I could have him. That was more than enough for me. He didn't need to know the truth.

Moreover, it was I who had something wrong with me in feeling the way I did. In fact, considering I knew Jacob all my life, I was all too aware that what I felt… it was bordering onto incestuous.

There was no mistaking that.

So when I wasn't on duty at the hospital, I was at my house in Seattle reviewing medicine and health to prepare for rotations the next day and my ultimate licensure exams. I rarely ever had the opportunity to see Jacob. To really see him.

But in this moment... in this moment as I stood beside my grandfather in a crowded, bustling hospital ward, I contemplated his suggestion of going home. I let the gnawing feeling that Jacob might very well be in danger, consume me. For weeks now, they- the pack and my family- were tracking a sadistic nomad back in Forks and I couldn't for the life of me shake this feeling of absolute dread off. I realised then that my scattered mind wasn't going to do Taylor any favors in the OR today. I couldn't lie to myself. My heart was simply elsewhere. And as if he knew where my decadent train of thoughts were ultimately leading me, "Dr. Herald is a fine surgeon with thirty years of experience behind him, Renesmee. World renowned, in fact."

I looked up, listening but not really hearing.

"Taylor's in good hands." He continued.

I knew this, but still, my jaws clenched at the mere thought of walking away from a patient. I'd known the seven year old for few weeks now. However, I also knew it was wrong for me to go in and cut him open. I was conflicted. He needed me. He expects me to be there. But then… I wasn't myself today. Not with Jacob out there with the others, tracking down a manipulative killer. Apparently she was nothing they had ever encountered and it concerned my mother.

I just… every inch of me ached to be there with him right now. It was infuriating sometimes how I couldn't think straight without him. I needed to know he was okay. As unreasonable as I knew it to be, I needed to be with him. Right now, I needed to be in his inviting embrace. To feel his warmth, and the soft cadence of his heart that –as a child- lulled me so welcomingly to my dreams.

I needed that right now.

It didn't take me long to reach a conclusion, albeit a predictable one. "This is so unprofessional." I breathed, taking my scrub cap off despondently. And before I'd even made a conscious decision to do so, I forced myself out the door.

I felt waves of raw, guilt-ridden emotions wash over me at the very idea of premeditated abandonment- for letting Taylor down like this. He was counting on me. But then…I knew worrying about Jacob would have a perpetual affect on my performance in the operating theater today. Indeed, one that would most likely have devastating ramifications- of which I could never forgive myself for. This wasn't fair on Taylor.

"Perhaps." Granddad agreed thoughtfully. There was no difficulty for him in keeping up with me as I made my way to find Taylor's medical history. Of course, I didn't need it. My inhumanly precise memory permitted me to remember things almost instantly, but Dr. Herald needed to be notified of Taylor's drug allergies.

Flicking through the charts, I felt granddad's eyes eye my worryingly. He place a soft hand on my left shoulder. I knew it to be of a warm and comforting gesture, but in that hapless passing moment of a personal exchange shared between two generations of Cullen, the irksome feeling didn't subside.

"You're doing the right thing by walking away today. You're mind is… preoccupied."

A wry breath escaped my lips. A little too preoccupied...

"That's understandable."

Is it?

"To everyone else, this is only human. You are only human."

I snorted at that one. Sure I was...

Only now was I aware gramps had carefully and ever subtly steered me towards the staff locker room where I was greeted with the faint musk of...what I could only describe as the intermingling of body odour, cheap perfume and…sex?

Inside, I was recoiling. I was recoiling because the suspicious wafts currently a float in the air, I knew, wouldn't go unnoticed by Carlisle. I ignored the awkward realization by scanning the seemingly derelict room and couldn't help briefly wondering why anyone would want to have sex in here...

As I mulled over this, it was then that I understood a fellow first year medical intern tumbled into the locker area from behind us, laughing a little impishly at someone from behind him. With the sudden onslaught of distinctive scents bombarding my senses and momentarily distracting me, both Grandpa and I casually whipped ourselves around to regard whoever it was.

Alex. A colleague of mine, was apparently just about to rip his shirt off. He froze a little belated however, just as he met my smiling face.

I got the impression he thought it was going to be empty.

"Alex?" I heard someone coax from behind, "What are you waiting for? We've only got fifteen minutes!" I recognised that voice all too well and smiled to myself.

Izzy.

Granddad cleared his throat- an attempt to let whoever it was, know they weren't alone unfortunately. I bit back my temporary amusement as I took in his uncomfortable expression. He was senior member of staff after all, who shouldn't be seen condoning such frivolity. Such frivolity exchanged between first year medical professionals. With his reaction ridiculously slow, Alex observed both Carlisle and I a little apprehensively before clearing his throat and readjusting his shirt.

"Er…hey." He muttered, the awkwardness positively oozing off of him.

"What?" The oblivious voice from earlier, continued. "Who are you talking to?" The voice exclaimed. A tall blonde girl finally became visible to us and walked around him to enter the otherwise engaged room. Not only was Izzy a girl I worked with, but I had actually met her in Dartmouth where we even shared dorm rooms. Her pretty ice-blue eyes met my semi-amused ones and suddenly realization finally hit home. "Oh," She said a little flustered, "there you are!"

I stifled an eye roll. Call it the sceptic in me, but I didn't believe for one minute she was looking for me. Not right now, anyway. That said however, the genuine concern in her eyes made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. "I heard you were leaving?" she continued, completely oblivious to my skepticism. "Is everything okay?"

I processed her words slowly. Is everything okay? How did I want to answer this? Without wanting to lie too much or give anything away either?

"Yeah. I mean… Something's come up." My mind at the moment was simply swimming as I was again, reminded of why I was leaving my patient, why I couldn't think clearly. I didn't even know what Carlisle was planning to say to excuse my absense, so I said very little.

"I hope it's something big, Cullen." Alex drawled dismissively. He settled for slumping on a benched seat situated between the large locker cabinets and continued to smooth out the creases of his scrubs. He couldn't conceal the look of disappointed on his face.

I blinked. Big?

"…Worth it.* He elaborated without looking at me. Being a medical intern had it's ups and downs, I realised after meeting Alex for the first time. I noticed when I first arrived here little over three months ago that there was an undeniable competative edge- a side in medicine I really hadn't anticipated on. "For you to go throwing surgery back in Herald's face, that is…" He continued, completely oblivious as he retrieved his cell phone from the confines of his locker.

I liked how he thought I was throwing everything away for nothing. Jacob wasn't nothing. "I'm sure Herald's going to miss you not being here..."

It was hard to ignore the insinuation there, buried beneath the shallow surface. Honestly, I really didn't know what she saw in him. Sometimes, it felt like everything Alex said to me, held some alternate meaning behind it and this grated on me.

"You realise you're walking out of surgery, right?" He finished, fiddling with some buttons on his phone now. I got the impression he slammed his locker for added effect.

It was as if he thought I didn't know this crucial fact, or that I was simply overlooking it. "I'm aware." I replied coolly.

A wry snorting sound found its way out of his lips. How befitting, I thought to myself. For the most part, I tried not to let this idiot get to me.

"Does the chief know?" Izzy asked, ignoring the hard-to-ignore-cool exchange between her boyfriend and I.

I nodded passively, the words not really coming out.

Clearly she realised something was up and so in obvious sympathy, she mimicked my nodding and pulled me into a soft hug. I say pull, when really she tried to haul me over with very little luck. It was only polite to oblige her. Izzy was very motherly when she wanted to be and it seemed physical contact was her way of soothing. "I hope it's nothing serious…" She continued.

"Me too." I said over her shoulder. It was one thing getting home. It was another however, to haul Jake away from the fun.

She pulled me back then, examining my face. I was sure I was sporting the glowy-anemic look. "Text me, when you get the chance?"

I had to smile at that. "Sure." And then abruptly, I realised something important. "Hey, can you do me a favour and feed the cat whilst I'm gone?"

Merlin was a stray I found and had sort of inadvertently adopted. For weeks now, he was hovering outside my bedroom window refusing to leave. I felt responsible for Merlin. Taking him to Forks and into a house full of vampires would just be awkward. Charlie and Sue weren't cat people either.

She returned my smile, which I only took for as a yes and then turned to regard Carlisle, smiling timidly. For weeks now, I had a sneaking suspicion she was crushing on him, but brushed it aside for now. I didn't think it'd cause any problems in the foreseeable future. Izzy knew he was family. And married. Naturally, these factors were indicative and thus equated to him being out of bounds.

She didn't need to know the small detail of him preferring to drink animal blood on the weekends.

Actually with tepid amusement, I recall her interesting reactions in meeting all the men in my family at one point or another. I remember dad telling me it made her curious for a long time as to how we were all related in the first place. Not when the only physical resemblance I shared was with Edward, my fraternal twin.

Fraternal twin. That was a creative embellishment on my part. Something I was proud to say I made up on the spot when she had expressed her curiosities out aloud. And she totally believed me.

She'd giggle alot with Jasper- something at the time I thought was his own doing. How wrong I was, once I asked and he simply shrugged. With Emmett, it sounded like her heart was beating the crap out of her senselessly. I blushed for her that day.

And dad. Dad was another story entirely. She couldn't even look him in the eyes when they first met. Poor thing. When he'd occassionally drop by to see how I was doing, he'd even invite himself into to our dorm room- asking Izzy's permission of course, before plopping himself onto my bed and flitting through my notes. In the first few weeks, I didn't mind this. Not until I realised these visits were leaving a lasting impression on the other girls on the floor. It was because of this, that had to start calling mom to pry him away from this sudden fascination involving my college life.

As if that stopped Edward, however. Now, he would usually do so, unbeknown to mom. Sometimes, late at night- so late in fact, Izzy was usually tucked in bed, and after calling prior to doing so, Edward would effortlessly climb in through my window to hand me a parcel mom had made up for me. I remember thinking I didn't understand why he didn't just use DHL like any other parent. But I realised this was just their way of adjusting to what was happening. I just had to be patient with him.

Often, in the first few weeks, even mom joined in on these nightly visits. At the time, I remember feeling I didn't know whether to laugh or cry at this.

As if on cue and dragging me out of my turn down nostalgia avenue, both Izzy and Alex quickly began darting out of the room, their pagers buzzing incessently.

"Don't forget to text me!" she called back as she dashed out only to slam her pretty face into the door frame loudly.

Ouch. I could only imagine how much that hurt.

Indeed, concern now lingering my features, she beat me to what I was about to ask her next. "I'm okay!" she smiled, lifting her arms up- winningly for added effect. I tried not to cringe as I observed her clumsy, receding form catch up to Alex, who was now, already way ahead of her.

Shaking my head, I returned my attention back to Carlisle who didn't really know what to make of that. "How friendly." He smiled after a moment.

That was one word for it.

And then I was aware they were now already clambering up the stairs, joined now by three or four other interns all wanting to answer their pagers first. There was pushing and shoving and despite the marked distance however, it didn't prevent my supernaturally censored hearing to detect their continued conversation.

"Hey, man.." A voice greeted Alex through the hurried clambering steps. "Where's the red-head today? Haven't seen tight ass in a while."

I tried to ignore the rushing feel of blood flooding the blood vessels beneath the surface of my skin -a signature response on my part. One that I thank my mother for every damn day.

"What first year gets a spot in theater so early on in the programme, only to walk away from it?" Alex asked. I thought this was more a rhetorical inquiry, but intermingling voices could be heard in response. Voices I couldn't ignore, despite granddad standing very still beside me.

"Man, her family either buys her the favours or she spends her spare time doing personal favours, if you get what I'm saying." The same voice from the earlier, and thankfully the ignored question answered. Tod, another idiot and amazingly obnoxious first year. There was silence as they continued to tackle each other down, tumbling clumsily. "I mean, c'mon...have you seen the chick? I mean, really seeen her?"

"Shut up, Tod." -Izzy.

Alex merely snorted.

"Iz, you get what I'm saying, though, right?" There was an awkward silence, where I was sure Tod expected everyone to agree. "There's no way she could've gotten into Dartmouth- and into the accelerated programme no less, not looking the way she does. And then to get a spot at one of the world's leading teaching hospitals?"

"It can happen." Her voice shrugged.

Tod laughed wryly, clearly sceptical. "Based on her own merits alone? Please. I smell bull and a whole lotta lube."

Alex choked back what I could only assume to be another snort.

Someone- Izzy- made a disgusted noise. "Just...both of you, shut up. She's not like that."

"Whatever you say, Iz. She seems to just get her way here..."

"That's not true." She replied indignantly. "And maybe it has something to do with the fact she actually studies."

"Right. You mean, getting personal tutoring?" Tod sniggered. I could hear Alex's awkward snigger join in.

Izzy ignored them both and continued walking, her voice wobbling with her strides. "Get over it. You're both just a little on the jealous side. Jealous that a girl is beating both your hairy asses in class." There was humour, I noticed, intermingled in her words- as if she enjoyed saying them as much as I did hearing them. "Yep. That's probably it actually. I know how competative you guys can get..."

"Whatever." Alex said. There was no amusement in his voice.

"FYI, I have my regular back, sack and crack, thank you." Tod injected in.

Thankfully, everyone ignored this.

"She can sleep with Herald if she wants. Why would I give a damn about that?"

There was a long, drawn out silence. A silence filled with awkwardness. I noticed their hurried steps momentarily faltered and I couldn't help holding my breath. Through my periphery, I was perturbed slightly but amused nonetheless, to find granddad too, pursing his lips in what I could only discern as his own anticipation for Izzy's explosive reply.

"I wasn't talking about her sleeping with Dr Herald, which FYI, she'd never do." Izzy held each word with forced composure. It would've been mildly boffo to me, had the situation not taken such a bizarre turn. There was no doubting I liked her style though. "I wasn't referring to her sex life at all!"

I think it was safe to say the marked composure died alongside her love for Alex.

There was another awkward pause now. "Oh." Was all he could say. "Yeah. I mean, right." I got the distinct feeling that was his attempt at trying to backtrack.

In what I could only imagine to be a sound of complete revulsion- a sound I found I liked when it was directed at Alex, I heard Izzy's footsteps stomp off even further into the distance.

"Iz, wait!" A desperate Alex called after her.

I'll be honest: I can't say I was upset. She could do way better.

A part of me did wonder and hoped she wouldn't take it out on Merlin however.

***

Only now had it dawned on me what I was about to do. "Wait. I…I just can't leave him like this. This is what they've been waiting for, for five years, grand-" I took in a greedy lung full, before making the mistake of letting our cover slip. The hospital staff already knew I was an intern, but the new Dr Cullen- who had only recently joined our staffing- was in fact, my uncle. "Dr. Cullen." I finished, correcting myself.

I collapsed into a seat in front of my locker, feeling inexorably drained now.

Though the room was now empty, and the silence was almost deafening, Carlisle and I didn't make a habit of slipping up. As Emmett would lonvingly say, Edward and I were perfectionists bordering onto neuroticism. Even at work.

"I'm sure Taylor is in capable hands. He'll understand."

I wanted to agree. I really did. But the very fact that Dr. Herald had a few good decades before me didn't appease me. Not because I felt I was a far more superior surgeon and Doctor, no. But for the fact that Taylor made me promise I'd be there when he woke up from his eight-hour surgery. Something I knew I had to keep.

Feeling torn in my indecision, I bit my lip. Where was Jasper when you needed him?

I already knew the answer to that. At the Cullen house with the others and attempting to help the wolves track down a succubus I could only describe as a sick, masochistic gladfly. I say masochistic, because apparently she displayed an unruly desire for some of the younger wolves. It was something I, nor my family really understood.

According to those who've previously had the misfortune to cross paths with her, she has an inexplicable aptitude to supply a male –any male- anything he wished to see. According to what my father heard from the thoughts of some of the younger wolves who encountered her, he concluded that apparently she 'senses what men desire most in this world.' Depending on the individual, extracting their wishes from the innermost, veiled depths of their very exposed souls, only to somehow emulate it and seduce them. Effectively, she played with their senses.

What they hear, what they see, and feel apparently. Everything.

So now, as I sat their contemplating on whether to destroy my barely-established-medical-career, I asked myself this very serious question. Can anyone honestly blame me for worrying about Jake? To want to physically see with my own, obsessive eyes, that he was okay?

I didn't think I was being unreasonable here. Just irrational.

After we all travelled back to Forks after this recent worrying development three weeks ago, in order to help the Quileutes, I had to keep repeating the same words over again like a mantra: He'll be fine. He can take care of himself. He'll be fine. He'll be fine.

Indeed, because of this, I felt like every inch of my being was recoiling at the very thought of Jacob being wounded or worse. That was normal, right? To care. You would think so, until I realised, having heard what this killer can do, I wanted Jacob as far away from her as physically possible.

I had to keep telling myself, no. Jake wouldn't fall for her manipulative ways. He was stronger than that.

But…what if he's isn't? I stopped in my tracks for a minute second. It was an unconscious thing, spurred on by that awful thought.

I'm sure granddad noticed, but to the naked, human eye, there wasn't much of a difference.

What if this succubus's powers are stronger? My face screwed up in a mixture of disgust and unadulterated grief at the very thought.

No. He had to be okay. He'd be fine.

But that didn't stop my mind being plagued with impossibly conflicting thoughts. Further still, they elicited all these warring emotions in me. In fact, so overwhelmed was I, with this unbelievable onslaught of worry, I was physically struggling now.

And it was clear now, just how pathetic I was at acting.

At the back of my mind, I knew all too well, in conquering her ill-fated, insensible conquests- her victims if you will, like any other Succubus, she typically drains them of their blood and moves ever graciously onto to her next sordid endeavour. For three weeks now, what was worrying my family- particularly uncle Jasper- was that she hadn't shown herself to us despite the area naturally reeking of us.

Moreover, she hadn't left our territory as yet, and rather worryingly, men have been dropping like flies, left, right and centre. On separate occasions, traumatised passers by, in areas that were clearly marked as reclusive and dissonantly acetic, found their battered, decaying forms. This was another worry. In order for us to remain inconspicuous in our locale, we didn't need this. We were of course, the largest known Coven of vampires in North America. For this Succubus to do this was something -my family felt- grossly unwise and extremely strange for our kind. Jasper continued to theorize- convinced that she wasn't working alone and for this reason, she was confident in 'being leisurely and grossly reckless.'

Quickly, I discarded my navy blue scrubs in favour of a simple, nude coloured dress and black stilettos. At the actual age of ten, I had to remain looking the part of a medical professional. This apparently bizarre situation was only ever amusing to my uncles.

After hurriedly saying my goodbyes, and almost emptying out the entire contents of my locker, I ran to my car. A brilliant flash of lightning momentarily lit up the apparently darkened skies as I opened my 356 Speedster -a ridiculously lavish present I received on my seventh birthday from my godmother- and started the engine as soon as I hopped in.

Not for the first time in fifty-two hours was I aware how ridiculous I was being. Jake had assured me just as I left for work, that both packs were alternating turns in scouring the various perimeters the Succubus' scent was detected. Though this wasn't an unusual thing for the pack to do, there was something different about today.

In the pit of my stomach, I felt an unruly, unkind feeling- like something bad- devastatingly awful was about to happen. For this irrational reason alone, I needed to know Jake was okay. I needed to be with him right now.

I turned a corner and hit the highway. In my perverse haste, the surrounding landscape rushed by in a greenish-grey mesh of brilliantly distorted colours. What was I doing? I left a sick kid just to go and see if Jake was ok -which I knew he was going to be anyway.

This was madness, and I was so very aware of it.

As I stared unseeingly at the blurring tarmac in front of me, I considered this: What exactly would I do after I knew he was okay?

An answer I knew already. I'd smile. Smile, and forbid him to go looking for this thing. She was nothing my family had ever encountered before. And for this very reason, I was deeply disturbed and uncomfortable with the very idea of Jacob looking for her.

No. I wouldn't let him. I'd feign thirst, and make him come hunting with me instead. No. That isn't the brightest thing to do with a psychotic Succubus on the loose. Perhaps feign my usually gruelling period pains that typically forced me to become bed bound for three or four days?

No. He'd see straight through that as I recall rather embarrassingly that he held my bed-ridden hand only two weeks ago. He knew my cycle better than I did.

This was frustrating.

Often -too often- things that start out as just a normal part of your life -at some point- cross the line to an obsessive, compulsive... out of control necessity.

So, I knew exactly what this was, though I didn't want to admit it- not even to myself. Not yet.

My hormonally driven, sexual impulses aside, my warring thoughts were back on this nomadic Succubus…

Grandpa Charlie was having a hard time tracking down the supposed 'wild animal' that was savagely butchering and killing these men- some of whom were happily married, with kids. Not only was my family now convinced, but Jacob and the packs were now alerted with thoughts of something suspicious of the supernatural variety was in effect. Yet, for reasons that confused the family, those few who crossed paths with her and were able to escape, were left dazed and relatively confused.

Even more disturbing was the fact that dad had explained to us that the forensic team from Seattle had noted that each of her victims had actively participated in sexual acts prior to their demise.

This was one sadistic bitch.

Turning the car tightly round a bend, I found myself driving at a reckless speed down the almost concealed Cullen drive. I had no doubt everyone would be home. Granddad would've called to let them know.

Only then did I realise Nahuel too would be home. He had come to visit after attending a seminar on lecturing at the University of Washington. After hearing of this Succubus, he wanted to help. As much as I adored Nahuel being here, it wasn't half annoying when Rosalie would gush over him.

Inwardly recoiling at the possible reasons behind why my godmother's sudden affection for Nahuel were so…potent, I looked up at the dark, tormented sky and couldn't help thinking it corroborated nicely with my mood.

Unsurprisingly, it seemed like the pending storm that had threatened to assault me back in Seattle had stalked me all the way to Forks. The family all resided in Seattle. Only recently, due to this psycho killer, had we been forced to come back to ensure grandpa Charlie's safety and help the Wolves.

Because of my job and my uncanny knack for resembling Edward, I was currently incognito, in the small town of Forks. For a long time I had difficultly pretending to be anything else but his daughter. Once the novelty and humour wore off however, it was a strange, discomforting feeling.

So, excluding myself, the rest of the family, were unable to get off our land for fear of their unchanging faces being recognised by the town. Often, like today- after my forty-hour shift at the hospital, I would travel back and forth, joining my family at the Cullen mansion for updates.

Rather pathetically, I had memorized every crack, dent, and imperfection on the asphalt from Forks to Seattle and vice versa. For three weeks, it had become a regular thing for me to worry for everyone. I knew it was unreasonable to think and worry for them. This was of course, just the one sadistic nomad after all…

So now, it was slightly bizarre for me to be the only one able to leave the house without the risk of being recognised. As I absently pulled into the garage, parking next to the old Volvo mom refused to let dad get rid of, and Jasper's new Ducati, I grew amused in particular by one acquaintance my parents encountered long ago that wouldn't seem to leave me alone.

On occasion when I did choose to walk the streets of Forks, enjoying a light lunch with my gramps, Charlie, prying eyes would always focus on me –the girl who looks rather remarkably, if not shockingly like a boy who lived here long ago…

Sometimes I'd get the impression my dad was quite…infamous with the female towns people in particular.

To combat this problem, I would guise myself as my father's younger sister, particularly to those who, rather intrepidly, chose to stop me in pursuit of fresh gossip and the current happenings of Edward and Bella Cullen. A heavily pregnant lady, Jessica Newton, I noticed, had an inimitable ability to pop out of absolutely nowhere and go out of her way to ask about them.

Setting the car in park, I smiled in amusement at the thought of probing Jessica and her screaming toddler and gathered my things: Patient files, folders, books, laptop…

And stepped out of the car accordingly, only to find a pair of ashen-white hands grip my things before swiping them out from under mine.

***

I handed it all to dad all too willingly and wordlessly we both made our way back to the grand house, which –to my surprise- was empty. I noticed, turning to him, that he looked concerned about something. With my apprehensive thoughts however, came a forced –what-was-meant-to-be-a reassuring smile from him.

Something was definitely wrong.

Allowing my senses to consume me, I couldn't detect any faint movements upstairs or pick up any recent scents. "Where is everyone?" I asked curiously, taking my coat off as I stepped in to the echo-prone ivory foyer. If the others were out looking for this thing, surely Nahuel would be home?

There was a brief pause, as hdad carefully placed my files down on the dining table however, before I heard him sigh quietly. "Dad?" I persisted, struggling to conceal the new panic now. Really, was it even a point doing so with dad?

He was unresponsive for a moment, his back to me.

"Dad, you're scaring me now."

He turned to face me and leant against grandma's antique table. Unwise, I thought, considering she loves that table. His face was unreadable, almost vacant. This wasn't promising. What was going on? "Sorry, sweetheart." He murmured, his voice wrought with quiet… sympathy?

"I don't mean to scare you."

I nodded slowly processing everything, yet my curiosity for my family's absence hadn't quite subsided. "They're all…out." He finished somewhat distractedly, in response to my thoughts.

Yes, well, I had gathered...

I made my way into the large living room and turned to face him again expectantly. Unconvinced, I didn't fail to notice how distracted and impatient he seemed to be. His cursory responses were simply proof of this. His easily distracted mind appeared to be somewhere else, and his presense with me seemed half-hearted at best.

"I'm sorry."

I didn't need him to apoligise, if he had good reason to worry. An explanation however, would suffice perfectly.

Out? Out where?

"There's been another attack, Renesmee." He replied a little reluctantly after what felt like an immeasurable moment.

I held my breath. Who?

With those words, came the overwhelming feeling of something sinking painfully in the pit of my stomach. My stomach lurched. "Another attack." I repeated absently, my voice thick with indifference. I slumped onto the sofa now.

This, was the 'something bad', that I felt at the hospital. I was sure of it.

I swallowed back the bile, not realising that my father had come to sit by my side and raised a tender hand to stroke a few quivering curls, tucking them behind my ears. I couldn't even appreciate the simple gesture of affection, depiste knowing he was worrying too. In fact, with my vision now a blur I had the irrefutable urge to be sick now. But inside, I was empty.

Jacob? I thought, a fresh wave of panic consuming me. The voice in my head was but a mere whisper –something I consciously couldn't help.

My Jacob.


Shining- Kristian Leontiou.

I have absolutely no idea if Dartmouth does an accelerated programme. I've only dipped into the research regarding being a med intern in the U.S...

TMI- Too much info. (Incase you didn't know, because I only recently found this out. loll)

As I don't get much out of writing fanfiction, other than letting the obvious joy of my imagination run wild with my fave characters, can you please take the time to review my work? I'd much appreciate it.

:)