A/N: Here's an extra long, angsty chapter for everyone! Thanks for being so patient!

A month ago, the scene unfolding in front of me would have been completely unbelievable. As it was, I had the urge to pinch myself so I would wake up from this dream. But I knew I wasn't dreaming.

Vampires don't dream.

A mere three days ago, I had been, if not exactly normal, at least completely human. I had been mortal, relatively weak, and determined to save my suicidal vampire best friend. I had refused to logically consider the consequences, even though Alice had laid them bare for me. She had warned me that my werewolf blood might make vampire venom poisonous rather than transformative. She told me I wouldn't be able to find a vampire willing to transform me. She insisted I would start a war between my vampire friends and my werewolf family. She was wrong about one thing, at least.

I was a vampire. Granted, I hadn't been able to find one who would voluntarily bite me; I'd had to trick Edward, forcing his hand. But the means didn't really matter. The end had been achieved. I had the expanded senses, strength, and mental capacity of any other vampire. And with these new senses, I could only concentrate on the illogic of my actions.

Why did I need to become a vampire? How did that solve anything? It certainly wouldn't stop Edward's suicidal impulses. What was I going to do? Would I chase him down, pin him, and stay there until thirst weakened one of us to the point of defeat?

Ridiculous. I had been absolutely ridiculous.

Besides not solving any problems whatsoever, I had created a thousand new ones. I wouldn't be able to see my family for at least another year. I would never be able to be truly close to anyone who wasn't immortal and essentially indestructible. I would be a slave to bloodlust for the rest of my existence. I would have to watch my mortal friends and family grow old and die around me until I had no one left. And, most importantly at the moment, I had managed to start an all out war between the Quileute werewolves and the Cullens.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

By transforming into a vampire, I had caused Edward to break the treaty between the two groups. If a vampire from the Cullen family bit a human, bit, not necessarily killed, war would break out between the wolf pack and them.

At least half a dozen werewolves had already advanced on me and Edward from their positions in the woods. I knew some of them, the protectors of La Push. Their names rattled in my head, along with those of the Cullen family. It was entirely possible some of them would be injured, even killed, because of one foolish decision I had made.

A month ago, the scene in front of me would have seemed impossible. But now, it was unfolding before me.

And it was entirely my fault.

The russet wolf that had knocked the black wolf off course was much larger than the others. Its fur was flecked with spots of gray. Dad! He rolled the black wolf onto his back, pinning him to the ground. The other wolves started forward to help and I found myself stepping forward, stopping my previous retreat. I felt anger course through my body, stronger than any emotion before it. They would dare to attack one of their own for protecting his daughter? I heard voices behind me, urging me to run away. The rest of the Cullens must have arrived. I didn't care. What use was being a vampire if I couldn't protect the ones I loved? Besides, I had to make my stupid decision right somehow.

But almost as soon as I began to advance, dad glared at the rest of the pack, somehow causing them to freeze, lying down harmlessly in the grass. The pinned wolf rolled out from under dad's grip and snarled at him. Dad rose to his full height, daring the younger one to attack. Everyone in the yard froze, watching the contest of wills in front of us.

Alice was a little removed from the rest of us, eyes glazed over. She was having a vision. I could tell Edward was listening in. He had the same glazed expression as Alice. When their expressions finally cleared, their faces showed clear panic. They looked at one another once, and then Alice dashed off toward the front of the house.

"What did she see? Edward, what's going on?" I demanded. He offered no answer; instead he turned and followed Alice, muttering a string of words under his breath. A few days ago, I wouldn't have been able to understand a word he was saying. But now, every word came in loud and clear.

"How she can possibly think that would help…obviously doesn't realize the danger she's putting herself in…should have just stayed out of this…she's only human…"

Everything clicked together. Mom was coming. She wasn't the type to stay home while the rest of the family was in danger, even if there was nothing she could physically do to help. The only feat she'd manage was getting herself killed; by me. If I strained, I could already hear the sound of her car roaring down the highway a few miles away. She would be here in a few minutes. I had to get out of there.

I shot into the woods, paying no attention to where I was going. I only knew I had to get out. I knew if I stayed, I would not be able to resist the smell of a human. I couldn't take that risk. The landscape started to look more familiar. I could see a strip of road nearby. Suddenly it struck me. The wet dog smell filled my senses again. I was almost inside La Push. If I went any further, I would break the treaty.

I stopped on a dime, mere feet away from where a pair of younger wolves stood guard over the border, teeth exposed and hackles raised. I smiled faintly. I had stopped in time. They would have no reason to attack me.

Evidently I was wrong.

The two began to stalk toward me. They already think the treaty is broken, remember? I looked behind me and saw another wolf approaching. He was the same russet color dad had been, but smaller and without the gray flecks. Connor. His ears were plastered against his head and he looked just as menacing as the other two. Great. So now I had three horse-sized wolves surrounding me. It appeared I would have to go down swinging. I stared at the first two wolves.

"I don't want to hurt you two…but I really don't want to die either," I warned. This only seemed to increase the tempo of their growls. I had no idea how to fight. I would run, but it didn't seem like an option at the moment. The wolves all charged forward at once. I rocketed myself off the ground, flipping into a nearby tree. They might find it somewhat difficult to come up here. I expected them to start pushing the tree over anyway, allowing for a Tarzan-like escape on my part. Of course, I'd probably have to run halfway to Alaska before the pack would give up. It didn't matter. The only thought running through my mind was survival.

I looked down from my perch, readying myself for flight. What I saw was the last thing I would have expected. Connor had his jaws on the leg of one of the other wolves. Damn it, Connor, you're only going to end up getting yourself hurt! I was wrong for about the fifteenth time that day. Unlike me, Connor was trained. He was a natural fighter and was using it to his, and my, advantage. I heard a series of sickening crunches as I watched the battle below. The sound of a wolf slamming into a pine tree. The sound of Connor's new teeth sinking into another wolf's leg. I should have taken the opportunity the fight presented to leave. But I was frozen in fear for my baby brother. He seemed to be holding his own so far, but what if he got hurt? I wouldn't be able to live with myself if my brother got mangled over one of my dumb mistakes. The only reason I hadn't leapt from the tree and started helping him already was that I knew I would only be in his way.

Eventually, the other wolves retreated back to their side of the border. Connor slunk off into the woods with a slight limp. When he returned, he was human again and had donned a pair of cutoff shorts.

Only a few hours ago, when I saw my transformed face, I had been shocked. I had been amazed what three days could change. Looking at my brother, I realized what a few weeks could transform. He had been at least a head taller than me before he phased, but now he had outgrown me by a foot. If I had been closer, I would have had to crane my neck to be able to see his face. I noticed his hand seemed oddly crooked, probably injured from the battle. He unflinchingly pressed the bones back into place, holding them there for a few moments. When he released his hand, the crookedness was gone.

But it wasn't merely his height, his ability to heal major injuries within minutes, or even his ability to transform into a wolf that shocked me the most. It was the expression his face held. He seemed more mature somehow. He'd seen too much in the last few weeks to remain unaffected. His eyes, normally friendly and laughing, were cold and hard as flint. His nose was wrinkled. His jaw was clenched in a way that seemed vaguely familiar. He looked like dad had on our family's first visit to the Cullens. But this time, the furious look was fixed on me.

His eyes glanced over the changes I had endured, taking in the now unfamiliar face and lingering on my eyes. He finally shifted his gaze downward, staring at the neck of my shirt, still stained with the grizzly's blood. I could imagine his shock. The last time he'd seen me, I'd been warm and familiar. Human. Now I had become something his instincts urged him to destroy. By the time I'd worked up the courage to speak, he was visibly shaking.

"Um…thanks," I started awkwardly. His eyes whipped up from the blood on my clothes as he flinched at the new musical sound of my voice. He glared at me with open hostility. I looked back at him unflinchingly. "I can explain everything," I said calmly. He snorted. He seemed beyond words. I took a steadying breath. It was completely unnecessary, of course, but it was comforting. Now, how do I explain to my little brother why I voluntarily became his natural enemy?

"So, the last few weeks have been…interesting, I suppose…for both of us," I began, "After mom told me about you and dad, I figured out the rest on my own; that the Cullens are vampires." He gave me a look. I could almost read his thoughts on his face. Um, you think? "But that wasn't the worst thing I found out. Edward told me he was planning on killing himself as soon as mom died." The sarcastic look on his face transformed into one of complete confusion. I gave a half smile. "Evidently, they used to go out in high school. I found a bunch of pictures under the floorboards in mom's old bedroom in Grandpa Charlie's house." Now he looked like he was going to throw up. I rolled my eyes.

"Oh, calm down already," I told him. Not smart. Are you failing to remember he's a young werewolf? Deliberately trying to tick him off like you used to isn't going to get you anywhere. "Anyway, I figured the only logical way to stop him would be to become like him. How was I supposed to stop him from killing himself while I was human?" He snorted and mumbled something that sounded a lot like "why would you want to?" I glared daggers at him, barely suppressing the sudden urge to punch him in the nose. Hate to remind you again, but making him angry isn't the best idea right now. Not to mention, are you forgetting you're a vampire now? Do you want to give him brain damage? Well, it did sound kind of appealing. He was being a jerk.

"Why would I want to?" I asked him dangerously, "Allow me to answer that with another question. What would you do if one of your friends told you he was planning on killing himself? What would you sacrifice? Just because he's not human doesn't mean he's not a person!" I saw a brief flicker of understanding in his eyes before he suppressed it, narrowing his eyes at me again. He finally found his voice.

"Would it have killed you to do something that actually makes some damn sense for once? How does becoming a filthy bloodsucker solve anything?" he growled. I stared at him furiously. What was insulting me possibly solving? He barely noticed my expression.

"Not only are there a million different solutions out there, but you don't think through any of them! Instead of, I don't know, taking him to therapy or something, you decide killing yourself is the best idea!"

"Killing myself?" I hissed, "Connor, you must be even dumber than you look!" Careful! "Let me spell this out for you. I'm. Right. Here!" I said, screaming the last word. My hands were clenched into fists and my breath was coming in wild pants. I had always thought the phrase "seeing red" when people were angry was just a figurative cliché. I was wrong. The world was bathed in crimson as I stared my brother down. Violent thoughts ripped through my mind at the speed of light. The motivation to slam him into a tree was disturbing and ever-present. I recognized the signs of my own newborn illogic and uneven temperament. I hadn't been particularly calm as a human; the thoughts running through my head were born of my normal human anger magnified a million times. As I had three days ago, I saw my fist moving almost of its own volition. The small remaining logical portion of my brain screamed at me as it whipped through the air.

With significant effort, I managed to alter the course of my fist, sending it flying into a nearby pine. It sounded like a crack of thunder. The bark splintered where I hit it, the trunk flying fifty yards away, landing with a spectacular crash. I stood next to the new tree stump, breathing heavily. Both of my fists were clenched, one of them stiffly by my side and the other still extended in a punch. I regained enough of my mind to lower my fists. I whipped my head to the side, looking at Connor.

He was shaking more visibly now, his outline almost blurring. He looked horrified and disgusted; my actions were confirming his prejudices. What am I supposed to do? Tell him that was actually intended for his face? I'm sure that would be helpful. I managed to relax my body by degrees, releasing my hands from their fists and lowering them to my sides. I blinked to clear the red out of my vision. As I regained myself, I noticed Connor pulling something out of his cheek. I stared at it; a blood encrusted splinter, about four inches long. His face had already begun to knit the skin back together over the small wound. I could smell the blood, but the animal-like tinge to it held no appeal for me, even combined with the sound of his heartbeat.

"Oh my god, Connor, I'm sorry…" I whispered.

"You and your bloodsucking friends should get out of here," he said, his voice keen and biting as a knife, "I won't be around to protect you next time."

"Connor…"

"I was right. She's not here," he spat. With that, his shaking increased insanely. Finally, he turned into the woods, exploding into a wolf as he went. I sank to the ground. Maybe he's right; maybe I'm not really me anymore. I know I wasn't a minute ago. I could have killed him. He may be a werewolf now, but he's certainly not indestructible. I sat there, torturing myself with my doubts next to the tree I'd destroyed.

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Eventually, whether minutes or days later I couldn't be sure, I suddenly realized someone was approaching almost soundlessly. I ran through the possibilities in my head before daring to breathe. Whatever was approaching couldn't be human, I concluded, finally letting in some air. The pleasantness of the smell eliminated the possibility of a werewolf. I determined my company was a vampire. All this took about half a second. I stayed rooted to my spot.

I lifted my head slightly from my knees, glancing at the figure through a fine curtain of hair. Edward. Well, who else were you expecting? A wave of déjà vu swept over me. Wasn't this exact scene happening a while ago? Granted, there was some role reversal going on, but most of it remained exactly the same; one person was sitting incapacitated on the floor and the other was kneeling nearby trying to offer some comfort. He extended a hand to help me up. It was a nice gesture.

Isn't that my job? I hated feeling this vulnerable. I wasn't a Disney princess. I didn't want, nor need to be saved from anything. I was independent by nature, and now I was nearly indestructible. Not to mention, I was supposed to be the one Edward could count on for help. What's the use of having a shoulder to lean on if it suddenly decides it needs to lean on you? I couldn't really afford to be vulnerable. Even if I wasn't entirely impenetrable, I needed to give the illusion that I was. I needed to be strong. I took one last dry, shuddery breath. Then I lifted my head from my knees and accepted the offered hand, putting my expression in order as I rose.

When I was back on my feet, I lightly brushed the dirt and pine needles from my already filthy running clothes. I finally met Edward's eyes, trying to emphasize a nonchalant, if somewhat annoyed, expression. He raised an eyebrow at me.

"What happened?" he asked. I shrugged. "You know, you're not as good an actress as you'd like to believe, Allison," he prodded. He looked at the splintered tree trunk I stood next to. "You broke a tree?" he asked. I sighed heavily. He could be the most stubborn person in the world sometimes, barring me anyway.

"Not exactly," I told him. My face clouded with disappointment again. "Actually, it was almost Connor's face." He barely hid his surprise. "He was being a giant jerk, insulting me and you and your family…" I explained weakly, trailing off when I decided not to repeat his exact words. He looked even more deeply shocked now.

"And after all this, you still didn't attack?" he asked incredulously. I laughed darkly and picked up the bloodstained splinter Connor had pulled out of his cheek.

"I managed to hit the tree instead…but this flew into his face," I said bitterly, crumbling the splinter to dust between my fingers. Edward was slowly shaking his head now.

"I can't believe it," he murmured. Yeah, I can't either. So if you would kindly leave me to my moping, I would be much obliged. He must have seen the look on my face. "You don't understand; you're a newborn vampire less than a day old. You shouldn't be this controlled."

"Controlled?" I screeched incredulously. "You have got to be kidding me! I barely avoid bashing my little brother's face in and you think that's control?"

"The key word here would be 'avoid', I believe. I'm fairly confident any given one of us would have killed with less provocation at your age." I gaped at him. "It's rather intriguing, isn't it? I wonder what could cause that…" he mused.

"I could've killed him!" I interrupted loudly.

"Could have," he emphasized. Seriously, he was impossible. How in the world could he convince himself that barely avoiding killing my brother was a success? Whatever. This really isn't getting us anywhere, is it? I shook my head.

"This isn't really important," I started. He stared at me. "Okay, it is important, but not nearly so much as the treaty." He sighed. He could still tell I wasn't telling him everything, but, for now at least, was capable of seeing logic.

"You're right. We need to straighten matters out with the pack," he admitted. "But I'm not dropping this until I hear everything." I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms.

"You are quite possibly the most stubborn person I know."

"I learned from the best." With that, he took off in the general direction of the house. I shrugged and joined him a moment later.

A/N: Let me know what you thought!