As If He'd Never Existed

by fojangles

When Edward left, Bella began to find solace in daredevil activities. It seemed that no length of time nor amount of near-death experiences could slake Bella's thirst for Edward-until cliff-diving. When Alice manages to talk Edward down from a ledge to attend Bella's funeral, both were surprised to find Bella alive, clueless as to who they are, and glued to the side of Jacob Black

1. Chapter 1: Who Am I?

As If He Never Existed

A New Moon Fanfiction by Fojangles

Summary

When Edward left, Bella was sure that she'd never be able to move on. He had done his damnedest to hold true to that final promise he'd made her before he said goodbye-to never interfere with her life again and to make it as if he'd never existed-but even without the photos, CDs, or radio, the impact he'd left on her didn't fade. Far from letting go, Bella began to find solace in daredevil activities with the help of her newfound companion, Jacob Black. From approaching shady men outside of seedy bars to flying down treacherous gravel roads on experimental motorcycles, she stalks adrenaline highs for the sole purpose of hearing Edward's disapproving growls in her head. It seemed that no length of time nor amount of near-death experiences could slake Bella's thirst for Edward-until she went cliff-diving. After much careful negotiation, Alice (having seen Bella's future go blank) manages to pull Edward away from his suicide attempt long enough to travel back to Forks to ensure that Bella is actually dead. Neither of them could have anticipated the actual cause of her sudden lack of future: Bella had no memory. All recollection of Edward or his family, vampires, werewolves, Forks, and even Charlie and Renee were gone. What will Edward do now? Will he break the promise that Bella no longer remembers? Or will he use this to his advantage to hold true to his word, letting her continue on without him as if he never existed?

Chapter One

Who Am I?

All around me are familiar faces,

Worn out places, worn out faces

-Gary Jules, "Mad World"

"Retrograde amnesia?"

"Yes. She sustained a very heavy blow to the head."

"My daughter has amnesia?"

"Yes. That's why she has no memory of you or anyone else."

"How long will it last? She'll eventually snap out of it, right?"

"Most likely, yes."

"'Most likely'? Christ, Doc, elaborate for me a little. I feel like I'm living in a damn soap opera, here."

"Some cases result in permanent brain damage. With some cases, short-term or long-term memory loss can persist the patient throughout the rest of their lives. What she has-retrograde amnesia-is quite rare. I can't really say the likelihood of her full recovery, but I believe that the odds are in her favor. Regardless, it could take anywhere from mere hours to weeks for her to return to some semblance of normalcy."

"What should I do until then? Keep her at home? Would she even be able to keep up in school?"

"Her intelligence shouldn't be affected. That's two different types of memory and stored in totally different locations in the brain. She could readily jump right back into academics. It's the social aspect of school that concerns me. I'm going to write her an excuse, keep her out of school for a little while. The stress of being surrounded by so many faces she doesn't recognize might be a little much for her right now. Until she recovers, mostly keep a close eye on her and, above all, be patient. Even after she's released to go home, she may have spotty memory of parts of her day; that's completely normal. Mind how you question her, too. Don't ask her if she remembers the way to somewhere or how to do something, just ask her if she can. She'll have to rely more on reflexive memory than consciously trying to recall."

"So I should just hand my daughter a set of keys and ask her to drive herself to the store in her condition?"

"Absolutely not! Just start small, like asking her to grab you something from somewhere in the house. Or ask her to make supper."

"Should I show her pictures or tell her stories to jog her memory?"

"No, Mr. Swan. The reminder effect does nothing for someone suffering from retrograde amnesia; you'll only stress her. Let it come to her. The only known cures are time and patience."

"Will she be different, Doc? I mean her personality."

"That one is hard to say. Personality is rooted in so many different causes. Likes in food or smells or sensation shouldn't change because her senses are the same. Aspects of her that are conditioned from past experiences which are now forgotten? ... Yes, it's possible."

"... Thanks, Doc. I'm sorry. I know I'm giving you a hard time..."

"I understand, Mr. Swan. I wish I could give you more definite answers, but there are very few when dealing with amnesia, especially one so rare. Just don't give up hope. Bella seems to be doing very well."

I stared out of the window in the room that I've been told is mine. Being told it's mine and feeling that it's mine are different things, however. It still felt a lot like I was staying in someone else's spare bedroom. Raindrops slide down the glass slowly, streaking the surface as they make impact. It rains here a lot, I thought to myself and not for the first time. I can't really say how long I've been sitting here, but I can't find a single reason as to why I should move. I can feel puffy bags weighing down underneath my eyes and each blink makes them feel itchy and cry for them to shut. Sleep has been an elusive creature since I woke up in the hospital, broken and defective. It's always weird dreams or pondering the gigantic hole in my memory that plagues me and keeps me up all night.

Realizing that you don't actually know who you are is a really weird feeling. Surprisingly, there's very little panic involved until someone tells you that you should know these things. Before that, I was only mildly confused as to where I was and how I got there. Of course, I knew that I was in a hospital, but I was awake in that hospital, so I was pretty sure that I was going to be okay. Until I was told that my brain was broken. It isn't an easy thing to hear. For some reason, being told that a bone is broken isn't nearly as rattling as being told that something in your brain is fried. I guess that's because a leg, while a part of you, isn't what defines you and makes you... well, you.

It's been a little under a week since I've returned from the hospital. Dr. Fredericks said I should be patient, that if I just relax and don't force it, that my memory will come back on its own. The way he explains it, I'd hit my forehead really hard while jumping off of a cliff-which really makes me wonder if I want to remember everything, actually-and that it affected my episodic memory. Basically, I can work a cell phone and recite all fifty states, but every personal event or experience in my life is gone. Temporarily. Y'know, hopefully. He said I may never remember the events immediately before I jumped off a cliff, so I may never recall why I wanted to do something so utterly idiotic, but I guess that's what I have friends for.

Jacob Black and his entourage of Native American boys have been a constant since I woke up. According to Charlie (who's apparently my dad), Jacob and I were inseparable before the incident. Charlie said that he was the one who saw me jump and saved my life. I don't remember Jacob, but I get good feelings when he's around, so I imagine that they must be telling me the truth. He said that he would be coming over today, but I don't know when. Like I said, nothing but good vibes from Jacob, but he definitely acts suspicious at times. I think Jacob must be really bad at hiding things because making a girl suffering from amnesia suspicious that you're hiding something after only twenty-four hours of knowing you sounds really impressive to me.

Finally, I rise from the bed and begin to take another tour of my room in hopes of jogging my memory. Honestly, there isn't much here to help give my brain a jump-start. It's sort of weird that I don't have any pictures or anything after a year of living here. According to my dad and the amount of "Get Well" cards, I was pretty popular in school and I went out a good amount with my friends. Didn't normal people take photos of outings? Where were those for me? Charlie must not be good at hiding things, either, because when I asked him why my room was so barren, he gave vague excuses or changed the subject. Whatever the reason, the only things I really have are my dinosaur computer and a shelf of books. I clearly have a thing for the classics.

A knock on the door breaks into my thoughts and I turn to see who it is. Since returning home, Charlie has kind of made it obvious that he'd rather my door remain open when I can do so. I think he's scared that I'll forget what a pair of scissors are for and stab myself with them. He has the same maddening expression of deep-seated worry and tentative hope that has been his mask for almost a week.

"Hey, Dad," I greet. Honestly, I still don't remember Charlie, either, but I do everything that I can to make it less obvious in front of him. The pain in his face when he realizes that he's still a stranger to me is unbearable.

"Hey, Bella," he replied, heavy emphasis on my name. Just in case I forgot again, I guess. I suppose I should be grateful for his consideration, but I can feel a small bit of resentment edging itself into my gut. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," I say, "A little more clear-headed."

I see Charlie's eyes light up and feel a small twinge of guilt. I'd taken to telling him vague statuses that suggest improvement. I honestly can't keep watching his face fall each time that I tell him that I feel the same as I did an hour ago.

"Good," Charlie replied with a genuine smile. "Jacob's here for you. He's waiting in the kitchen."

"Oh. Okay. Great," I said, wishing I'd started getting ready earlier. "I'll be down soon."

Once Charlie had excused himself, I grabbed my bag of hygiene supplies and crossed the hall into the face in the mirror was still a stranger, all brown eyes and hair and ghostly-pale skin. I didn't really have a strong opinion on my looks either way. If I was being honest, I'd describe myself as plain. I wasn't ugly or lacking, I just wasn't someone who'd stand out in a crowd. I wet my toothbrush and applied the paste hurriedly. I didn't want to keep Jacob waiting and I was also a little eager to see him.

Jake was my rock so far. He was there from the moment I woke up and he's been such a breath of relief since. From his smile to his patience to his easy-going nature, Jacob Black was exactly what the doctor ordered. It also didn't hurt that he was easy on the eyes...

Okay, Bella, let's focus on remembering what you did last week before getting a love life.

After washing my face and running a brush through my hair, I got changed in my room (a light, taupe sweater and jeans) and headed downstairs to see Jacob. Charlie was there as well, sitting at the table with a bowl of cereal and a glass of orange juice. I was surprised to see that Jacob didn't also have breakfast before him. The kid was like a black hole when it came to food and he was definitely family. It was the norm to see Jake sitting around our table for any meal of the day.

The strength of our short friendship (well, short to me) was surprising. In terms of how far I could remember, we had only been friends for less than a week, but already we were as close as lifelong companions. Jacob had not only been there when I woke up, but he was also there until nurses kicked him out when I was in the hospital and he had been here at the house every day since. He was already the one I turned to for a bit of peace and happiness, or a sense of normalcy because he didn't treat me like I was broken. He never touched on conversations that started with "remember when" or "like that time when we". Jacob was incredibly relaxed about it and I found that to be a real comfort. I didn't know how, but I also knew that I could trust Jake with my life and that there was nothing I couldn't count on him for.

"About time," Jacob said when I reached the kitchen, an easy grin stretching across his face. "I was about to send a search party for you."

I rolled my eyes at Jake's teasing and made my way to the cupboards for a glass. Having retrieved the milk from the fridge, I poured myself a glass and set a slice of bread in the toaster. I turned around to lean against the counter and sip on my milk while I waited for toast. Jake was still watching me. While he put on a much better carefree bravado than Charlie, I could sometimes tell how worried he was beneath the surface. Once satisfied that I could fetch my own breakfast without injuring myself, both he and Charlie seemed to relax a degree further.

"So what're we doing today, kemosabe?" I asked him, earning a playful scowl for my cheek.

"Oh. I figured we could go and see the guys... Y'know... Nothing special..." Jacob replied vaguely. My eyes ticked to Charlie, but he was too engrossed in his cereal at this point to notice Jake's unnatural tone. I raised an eyebrow at Jake as discretely as possible, but he pretended not to notice. Suspicions now raised, I began to really watch him. Jake seemed stressed out today. The muscles in his shoulders and neck were tense and his brow was never far from furrowing. It also explained why he actually wasn't eating us out of house and home right now. Something was clearly wrong. I wanted to weasel it out of him, but even with my faulty memory, I knew better than to address it in front of Charlie. It could wait a few more minutes. The toaster popped out my piece of toast then and I turned to fetch it.

After successfully downing both toast and milk, I rinsed out my glass and set it down in the sink. I turned to him and gestured to the door to indicate that I was ready at any time. He took the hint and started to head toward the porch.

"Alright, Charlie, I'll have Bella back by dinner. See you tonight," he said with his usual smile. Charlie was now rinsing out his own dishes and he looked up and caught Jacob's eye.

"Okay, Jake. Take care of her."

They held eyes for a second before Jacob ducked out of the house. I turned to Charlie next, resisting the urge to roll my eyes; just because I had amnesia didn't mean I was utterly helpless.

"I'll be back tonight," I said. "I'll be fine, don't worry."

"Call me if you need anything," he said firmly.

"I will. I promise."

Separating myself from Charlie always just about required a crowbar these days. I understood his worry, but it wasn't like I'd lost all knowledge of the world around me; I still knew how to keep myself safe. After finally extracting myself from his grasp this morning, I headed out the door and onto the porch. Jacob was already waiting for me in his vehicle, a 1986 Volkswagen Rabbit. Following his lead, I sloshed through the marshy front yard to the vehicle and hopped into the passenger seat. I glanced at him as I closed the door. He was a total one-eighty from how he was in the kitchen only moments before. There was no smile on his face now and he kept his eyes staring out of the windshield. His hands gripped the steering wheel a little hard and his jaw was set in a determined sort of way. Jacob began to back us out of the yard without a word.

"So, are you gonna-"

"Bella, we have to talk," he cut me off. I paused and patiently waited for him to continue. Whatever it was, it was clearly taking a lot for him to say, so I wouldn't rush him. "Listen, I know your doctor said not to push you to remember anything. I get that and I really don't want to stress you out, but there are certain things that you absolutely have to for your safety. Things like me and my friends. Things like the damn Cullens," he spat the name like it tasted bad, "Things like Victoria."

I sat there mutely, listening to him, unable to make heads or tails of what he was telling me. I stared at him with a furrowed brow of confusion, willing myself to understand and not being able to. We had spent almost an entire week together with me getting to know him all over again and I'd never seen this side of him before. He was so serious, so tense. I couldn't fathom what kind of danger he was implying, especially here in tame Forks, but whatever it was, he was legitimately concerned about it. As for the "Cullens" and "Victoria"... Well, I'd never heard of either, although the name "Victoria" did make my hair stand on end.

"I know you don't understand what I'm saying," he snapped, raking a hand across his scalp and sighing with frustration. "Not yet. But we'll show you. Sam gave me the go-ahead. We're going to make sure that you're prepared. As much as you can be, anyway. I'd hoped to keep you out of it, but..." Jake muttered the last sentence as if he regretted having to inform me of... well, whatever it was that he planned to tell me. I waited for him to continue, but he lapsed into silence after that.

"Jake... You're going to have to elaborate if you want me to understand..." I said, trying to be gentle while he was so distraught. He never looked at me, keeping his grim eyes glued to the road.

"No," he replied. "You're going to have to see. We don't have time for you to think we're crazy. Victoria's already on the move again."

There was that name again. What was it about that name that raised goosebumps on my limbs? What was it about that name that made my stomach writhe and my heart feel a little cold? I didn't remember who Victoria was, but whoever she was, she clearly meant serious business. How did I possibly make enemies of such a person in the first place? And here of all places. So many questions bounced around inside my head, but I knew that to get Jake to answer any more, I'd have to see whatever it was that he'd think I wouldn't believe. I dug deep and gathered all of my willpower so that I could get through the rest of the ride to La Push without pestering Jacob for answers. He looked entirely too bothered to poke at the moment. As it was, his body would twitch and jerk slightly the whole way, almost as if his tension was so great that it was threatening to rip from his body.

I tried to busy myself instead with searching for memories. I stared out of the window at the trees that blurred past us. I spent a few minutes trying to scrounge up some inkling of what I did before the accident by thinking of school or students who'd visited me in the hospital, but I didn't have any luck. Of course, I didn't expect to make any great breakthroughs on the trip to Sam's, but it was something to do that wouldn't involve upsetting Jacob further. The furthest I could remember was the dream that I'd had before waking up in the hospital. I was pretty sure the only reason that I even remembered it was because I'd had it every single night since.

In the dream, I'm walking through the woods. Light is filtering in through the breaks in the leaves, so I can see where I'm going. I always keep heading in a very specific direction, like I know exactly where I'm going. I think I get pretty close to it every time, but just before I get to my destination, I see a clearing through the trees and a bronze-haired figure standing in the center; I know that that's where I'm trying to go, but before I can break through the trees, Jacob always appears out of nowhere and grabs my hand. He pulls me away from the clearing, no matter how I struggle with him and beg for him to let me go. In the dream, he's way too strong and he winds up dragging me away. I've never told Jacob about the dream. I don't know why, but I feel like he'd be upset if I told him.

It wasn't long before we pulled up to Sam's. I'd met the imperious Quillayute once when I was in the hospital and we didn't say much. While he was kind and courteous, I felt like there was something about me that he didn't like, like he was judging me for something. The rest of Jacob's friends were completely open, treating me like we'd been lifelong pals. Jacob told me that we all used to hang out before the accident and that we'd gotten pretty close. I didn't doubt that; I could feel the natural camaraderie when I was with them.

After making the long, winding drive down to the old house with the marigolds under the window, Jacob put the Rabbit in park and we hopped out. All of the boys were there waiting for us when we arrived.

"Hey, Bella!" Embry called and the other boys gave a similar gesture of acknowledgment. I returned their hellos. Even with the friendliness, though, I could feel an underlying tone of something wrong. It didn't take a genius to put together that they were all here to help show me whatever it was that Jake was talking about in the car. I found myself looking at each of their eyes, rotating through them, almost nervously. I was nervous, I realized. Whatever this was, it was something important, something life-changing. For a moment, I reached my hand towards Jake's before stopping myself. I wasn't really sure if we really had that kind of relationship and the last thing that I wanted to do was make things weird if we didn't.

"Bella," Sam said, his eyes boring into mine and captivating my attention. I felt the undeniable urge to comply with his dominance. "I want you to know that this was not an easy decision and it's still one that I'm not entirely comfortable with. Before you lost your memory, you knew about us and you kept our secret. I'm inclined to believe that you're still that person and keeping you informed makes you easier to protect. That is the only reason that I'm allowing Jacob to show you what we are. Understand that this is a secret you absolutely must take to the grave. Please appreciate the gravity of this."

I was surprised by the intensity of Sam's words. What kind of secret were they going to show me? And what did they mean by "what we are"? The more they built up to this, the less certain I was beginning to feel. My eyes flickered to Jacob's grave face. His mouth was set in a thin line and his eyes seemed to hold some regret. He nodded to me and, surprisingly, that was enough. While still suffering from butterflies in my stomach, I looked Sam in the eyes and nodded to him.

"I promise," I said. And I meant it. Whatever this was, Jacob was involved in it, so it couldn't be that bad. And even if it was, I would never throw him under the bus.

"Alright," Sam said after a moment of staring me down. He turned to Jacob and crossed his arms over his chest. "Would you like to do the honors?"

"Yeah," Jacob muttered. It was clear that he really didn't, but he would. Jacob took a few steps toward the tree line, bridging the gap easily with his long legs. I took a few steps in that direction myself, believing that I was meant to follow. Embry put an arm out before me, however, and shook his head.

"You're gonna wanna give him some space," he said softly to me. I gave him a quizzical glance, but he gave no explanation.

I turned my eyes to Jacob, who had stopped at the brink of the woods and turned to face us. His face was now in a scowl, his expression black. I was once again struck with the urge to approach him, this time to comfort. Whatever was about to happen, Jacob was clearly unhappy about it. The stress he'd felt in the car must have amplified because he was now shivering with mighty tremors all down his body. Jake stood there for a few minutes, jerking and twitching, muscles drawn tight by his clenched jaw and fists, teeth grit. Then, just like that, I lost my mind.

To me, it looked like Jacob exploded. I was only kind of aware that I had screamed and that Embry was now having to put some effort into holding me back. In my eyes, Jacob had just gone up in a thousand pieces and no one was making any move to try and help the situation. The next second, I began to register that in the place of where my best friend once stood was a larger-than-life wolf. The beast was easily bigger than a bear, its limbs rippling with powerful muscles and each paw tipped with razor-sharp claws. I would hate to see what the inside of its mouth looked like.

No one made any move-personally, I was rooted to the spot by shock and fear-and neither did the canine. It simply stood there, russet fur beginning to dampen with the light rain, brown eyes focused on me. I was terrified by the eye-contact, recalling somewhere that it was seen as a challenge to animals to look them in the eyes, until I realized that it wasn't just looking at me, but into my eyes. The deep brown eyes of the wolf were calm and expectant, almost like it knew me, and the more I looked into them, the more I felt that I knew them. In one wild moment, I thought to myself that this beast had to be Jacob. I furrowed my brow and turned to look at the boys who stood there as relaxed as the moment Jake and I had pulled up in the Rabbit.

"What's going on?" I asked. My voice was shaking with the shock and emotion of the moment, but I was far from caring. "What happened to Jacob?"

For some reason, I had the feeling that I wouldn't get my answers from any of the younger boys. My eyes shifted to Sam's face, waiting for him to reply. The older Quillayute regarded me for what felt like forever, as if sizing up my reaction before choosing what to say. Impatience and panic got the better of me and my temper flared.

"Where the hell is Jake?" I demanded a little louder.

"You're looking at him," Sam replied simply, indicating the wolf.