Thank you Jenniemae2013 and Addicted to Edward from PTB for the first-round polishing of this chapter. Thank you Woodlily and Furious Kitten for round-two.

Chapter 1 – Operation SCALL

It shouldn't have surprised me to see them there. It did. As I moved to stand fully in front of the window, their eyes were peering straight through it to me – through me. Surely they meant me no harm, but that didn't stop the shiver from creeping up my spine. I mean, they were there to get my help, to have me change them. Most of them were, anyway; some of them just wanted to see if the stories were true. It didn't matter either way. There were too many by that point, more arriving than departing. We had been working on some sort of method to organize the herd, to create a system without leaving a paper trail behind them.

I walked away from the picture window, unable to keep from feeling responsible for their prolonged wait. I came to rest in the soft, isolated chair that was my secondary station lately. My first station was always my bed. I was constantly exhausted.

Leaning forward, I found my hands moving instinctively to rub my temples. The headache was constant, hammers pounding tirelessly into my brain. I was drained. I tried very hard to hide it, because when I didn't, I inevitably received loving reminders about my health being more important than my newly defined purpose.

"You're tired." Jacob's face flooded with worry. "Time to call it a day, you think?"

He didn't have much room to talk because he wasn't resting as well as he should either. The dark circles under his eyes showed pronounced exhaustion. To be fair, I was only half his worry. After becoming the sole pack leader, his responsibilities to watch and guard the territory had more than doubled what they were before Sam's death. I wouldn't have minded trading places with him. The idea of tending to only fourteen bodies was appealing compared to the crowd waiting outside.

We had difficulty counting them all, because they came and went without notification. They didn't answer to us in any way, and we had no choice but to handle them as a doctor might handle patients for a walk-in clinic. I had only managed to go through a small portion of them in the months after realizing my potential.

"I'm good for another round today," I said flatly.

I could smell the campfire that I had come to realize was Jacob's most prevalent aroma. It indicated anger. There used to be a difference between his human and wolf scents, but the more I was around him, the more they seemed to blend together. I wasn't sure whether it was an actual shift in my senses or if I was becoming overly familiar with the scents, causing them to run together.

I really didn't have the energy for another fight. He had a point, but he also needed to understand how important my new role was to me, to those wishing for the cure, and to him. I was helping his cause too, after all. Less vampires meant less stress for the Quileute protectors, leaving them time to settle into their new positions. Jacob was more stressed than ever, and I couldn't take it away from him.

Through my growth process, I had found out I was quite unique. I had finally found my place, my purpose, and my peace. When bitten by a vampire, my human half strengthened, fighting against the venom that was meant to poison me. Instead of succumbing to darkness, my light flowed freely outward, reversing roles and curing immortality. I had the ability to reverse vampirism. I was their second chance at humanity.

"You're pushing yourself too hard," he added, trying to keep an even tone but having little success.

He was right, and even though we generally saw eye to eye, lately we were arguing more than we were getting along. Thankfully, we were both too busy to sit around and stew on it. Being tired, cranky, and overwhelmed were great deterrents.

Dad didn't seem to mind, and while he never openly admitted it, I knew he was inwardly grateful to have his darling daughter at home with him for a little while longer. Though Jacob wanted me to move into our cabin right away – the cabin that he had erected for us before there was even an us – Dad stood firm in our separation until marriage. I was too swept up in the onslaught of SCALL to fight with him either.

SCALL – Second Chance at Living Life – that was what we were calling my efforts, and we ended up simply using the term to refer to those waiting to be changed as well, tying the act itself to those who were being changed. They seemed content to wait, unbothered by the fact that I had no concrete timeline for their change. They had forever – until I took it from them. Thinking of the crowd outside the window, I realized I needed more than forever. I needed reinforcements.

"I'm fine," I lied, fluttering my lashes at him.

That usually worked, but not today. Not for either of us. I wasn't feeling very powerful, and he wasn't feeling very receptive to my ploys.

"We'll take over," Alice chimed in happily.

The others were very helpful and always with me through each change. Though unable to perform the actual transformation, they were effective in profiling and bringing the most urgent cases to the front of the line. Grandmother had created a network for fostering those who, while advanced in literal age, were minors in human form. Having fostered her own family, she was familiar with the process and had developed a long line of valid adopters for the "minors" we produced in the change.

I sighed. I really had wanted to get one more change in for the day. I turned to look out the window, discouraged by the falling snow that blocked my view. I was thankful that the huddled group outside wouldn't need to worry about frostbite, nevertheless I wished for spring and the return of life to our forest. I didn't have long to wait. It was February already. Two months had flashed by since I had discovered my power, and while much had been accomplished, there was much left to do. Without a visible end to the client list, it seemed like getting to the bottom of it was out of reach. I just didn't see how I would get to everyone.

"Just one more?" I asked.

"Ness," Jacob pleaded. "You obviously don't know your limits. I know you mean well, but they're still going to be there tomorrow."

"And the next day," I sighed. And the next...and the next...

"You need a break," Mom agreed. "You have to pace yourself or..."

He recovered fast, but I caught Jacob's flinch at the all too recent memory. Grandfather and Grandmother had been the first to be willfully changed. She couldn't have been more delighted at the prospect of settling down in Forks. He had been pleased he would be able to continue working at the hospital he loved. Every second counted as suspicions surrounding him were already too advanced. They wouldn't be able to stay another year, even with the plastic surgery excuses. I thought it would be nice for them to experience the change together – a united transition into their new life. Their transformation had been successful, but the drain it placed on me far outweighed the haze I experienced in changing Aro.

Aro had been a Volturi leader. He was the first to witness my ability to invoke the cure that would sever all ties binding him to the Volturi and the Volturi to him. In trying to make me a vampire, he had forfeited his immortality. What he had unleashed was definitely more than he had bargained for. Once released, there was no locking me away again.

I would catch Alice searching for him every now and again with her precognitive sight. The shift was permanent as far as she could see. That gave me strength to forge ahead; it increased my confidence to help others that were stuck in a life not meant for continuance.

"I'll walk her home," Jacob announced.

I glanced at Dad, and he smirked.

Enjoy it while you can, I thought.

Dad's smiled widened, truly happy he had kept me for as long as he had. In all honesty, the end of the day brought such exhaustion it wouldn't have mattered where I was slept as long as I got to close my eyes. All too soon they would open again, and the cycle would continue. I would force food into my mouth and start again from scratch, new faces replacing those of the previous day. I could change no more than two SCALLs in a twenty-four hour period. Attempting more physically damaged me, exceeding invisible limits. The few times I had tried put me entirely out of commission for days. I had developed an alert system within my body that notified me when the tank was full and I could deplete it again.

"Really, though," I persisted. "One left. We agreed on two."

It was pretty bad when I had to use his words to win my argument. My brain was without the capacity for creative return. His own words would prove effective; he didn't like to be wrong so it was a fail-safe way to make sure that I got what I wanted. It was about more than just wanting it, though. It was a responsibility I took very seriously.

When I took on the project, I couldn't have guessed how popular it would be and how many were longing to be human. This did bring me peace, this SCALL transitioning, but it also drained me physically and emotionally. To me, it was a fair trade-off. To Jacob, it was something else for him to worry about.

"Carlisle?" Jacob's voice was nearly a whisper.

Grandfather was the doctor in the family, and while Jacob had always relied on him prior to his return to humanity, something shifted with Jacob's psyche in the actual reformation. He gained an even more pronounced respect for a man who would choose something other than eternity. He was certain that Grandfather could look inside of me and read my condition. When he nodded permission, I found my smile again.

Frustration lingered and grew the longer the process went on. We wanted to help everyone we could, make everything right. Patience wore thin. After months, the shift became almost mundane, the enthusiasm to cure wavering. It became more of a process than progression.

A brief wave of anticipation surged through my senses, and I took a silent breath to savor the gush of energy that flowed freely through me. It was an adrenaline rush, much like the ones my Mom used to crave before she became a vampire. They reminded her that she was alive.

With my heart racing, I nodded to Alice, who skipped to the door and called out a name. "Carolyn Mayfair."

She knew who was next; she always did. I wasn't the only one who could feel the drain of this magic; everyone felt it. While it was beyond compelling to continue, we were limited in how many we could help at once.

I waited. This was when the rush moved into me – moments before the invoked change. I had grown numb to the rest of it. The routine was simple and necessary to make sure I didn't overdo it as I had with Grandfather and Grandmother. My family waited and made my decisions for me while I remained with idle reserve until action was required. I wanted to regain control but wasn't sure if I could trust myself to know my limits. My desire to heal was far too consuming to allow for rationalization. I would have given them every ounce of me if left to my own devices. Instead, I had to be regulated – controlled – because if my light burned out too quickly then sharing it was impossible.

When the young woman walked through the door, she was greeted with warm smiles. Jasper, having the ability to control emotions, was always there for the shift, because the change had a different emotional effect on every SCALL. It was impossible to predict individual reactions, regardless of the pattern that seemed visible to me. To me, it seemed simple. It was scary, it was new, and most of all, it was painful. Those who had made the transition said that it was mildly similar to their first change –more intense but not as long in duration – so the ache was constant whether or not the reactions were predictable.

As the girl moved nervously to stand in front of my chair, I tilted my head to the side in observation. What did she have to be scared of? I was the one who was about to be bitten. I blew out an upward breath that forced a curl up and away from my face. Maybe if I was standing, she would realize that I presented nothing to fear.

I was helping them make this change, and at first it had been because I was giving them something to celebrate, and that I was offering them freedom from an unnatural choice. I had lost some of that compassion along the way, finding it difficult to view them beyond the cattle they seemed to be, herding toward change.

I was tired and in need of an emotional recharge. I tried to pretend it was because it hurt too much to think about those still waiting. To feel nothing was easier than being hopelessly devastated by my inability to instantly save them.

"So," I began, attempting to lighten the atmosphere. "How long have you been waiting?"

This was an important question for me. It wasn't on the mandatory pre-op prep list that Grandfather created, but I found it equally important. To me, it was the most relevant question. How much time they waited to make the transition showed desire for the change. They weren't trying out the newest fad and weren't likely to change their minds mid-course. I was providing a service they knew could not be retracted.

Some were thankful about the change; some were not. It was interesting to view so many personality types and how they shifted when their biology did. Grandfather was never bored. I, on the other hand, was bored. No, maybe bored wasn't the right way to describe it. I was more indifferent, feeling more like a piece of machinery than a person. Were they taking away my humanity a little bit at a time?

"Six weeks," she said quietly, quickly looking down when I made eye contact.

Strange. Her reaction wasn't one I had encountered before. It was caught between awe and nerves, like she thought I was something more important than her, someone elevated in stature. I had seen similar reactions in Volterra. Why was she treating me like royalty?

"Take a deep breath," I stated, adding noticeable calm to my tone. "I'm not going to bite you."

She laughed at this, and I was grateful. Six weeks was a long time to wait. She might as well enjoy it a little. Besides, she was about to feel an onslaught of fire that would remove all traces of joy from her lips.

"How old are you?" I continued.

It was then that I felt Jasper's influence. I was thankful to have his aid. This part – the inquiry – made me somewhat nervous. I understood the reasons behind the interview but wasn't comfortable being the one to have to give it. The longer we postponed the inevitable, the edgier I became from thinking about the upcoming pain. Distraction clouded the answers as I imagined the SCALL's face distorted in agony. Absolution required suffering. That was the part that drained me the most.

"One hundred and twenty-two," she replied swiftly.

Carolyn proceeded down the list of short-reply lines I fed her. Two remained. What led to her change? What would she do when she regained humanity? These simple things could sometimes have very complex responses. In some cases, it led to them standing and removing themselves from the Cullen house without further conversation, not ready to give it all away for uncertainty. Possible reasons were that they were hesitant to give away their immortality, the memories of creation were too strong to overlook, or they really hadn't considered what they would do with the final phase of their existence. With an end in sight, futures are put into perspective; potential fades, and decisions must be made. No longer does the possibility of forever exist to complete things not yet dreamed of. While visible freedom is given, there are new restraints, and those need to be dealt with.

We had lost two before we decided to make Alice search as a prerequisite for those who wanted to change. Familiar with regenerative functions and a never-ending life, a vampire is free to explore and exist in a somewhat careless fashion. Humans aren't privy to such reckless indulgence. Habits are hard to break, and two were taken by preventable, everyday accidents due to lack of preparation on our part and theirs: car wrecks, bodily injury, and even communicable disease. Grandfather and Grandmother, who had both experienced reversal, were ideal educators. Those going through with the alteration were required to endure a post-op session with them.

"I was changed in the fall, I think," Carolyn stated. "I was engaged and excited when my fiancé thought it would be a sincere notion to take me hunting with him – to show me that he could provide for me. I wasn't a country girl at all, but then again, he wasn't a country boy, either. Anyway, we thought we were hunting. We weren't; we were being hunted."

I nodded and listened intently. The love stories always caught my attention. The loss often found me allowing the tears to fall that the SCALL could not. Soon she would have her own tears and could express herself again. Tragedy sparked emotion, and my heart quickened. The time was near. The small-talk calmed the girl and took her mind off what was coming.

Carolyn had been waiting for six weeks. She could hear the sounds coming from inside the house and knew what she was getting herself into. Yet there she sat waiting and willing to continue. She was truly brave.

"I separated from my creator after a decade or so," she added. "We had…different views. When I found out there were other vampires who were feeding from animals, I was delighted. I spent a great many years alone in those wild and wonderful mountains. I've made several friends since then, pulled in different directions to different destinations. I would call it fate. I think all those times...when I was walking blindly...following some unknown path that those journeys were leading me here to you."

"You're a tracker?" I asked, trying to figure out how much she knew about her gift.

"Maybe," she said after some careful thought. "I never really considered it. I look at it more like fate leading me in the direction I was meant to travel. I've always had this weight on my chest, like something is holding me down – you have it too. I was meant to come here to get my life back. To be honest, I haven't really decided what I will do from this point on, but I know it will be a beginning for me – a second chance to live the life that I was meant to lead."

Smiling, I moved a little closer to her and extended my hand. When she hesitantly took it, I pictured everything she had told me clearly in my mind, as though I was living her past with her. The sensation numbed my fingers, and I wanted to give her the warmth that would replace the cold. This is why I continued – to give peace to those who wanted it. In this convergence, I would help her meet her future.

"You know it's going to hurt, right?" I asked sympathetically.

I felt her hand twitch. She knew. Jacob came to stand beside me for moral support. She was not the only one who would feel pain, but mine was short-lived compared to what she was about to experience. I released her and moved my unruly curls away from my neck, tilting my head slightly to the side. I noted her hesitation when she saw the two dimpled scars on my neck. There was a matching pair on the opposite side. I could see why those bite marks would concern her, but her bite wouldn't have the same result. They were from the overzealous change of my grandparents.

"Don't worry," I assured her. "You won't leave a mark because no one else did. These are from a moment I wouldn't trade for anything, and I'm proud to have them."

With that, my gaze shifted to Grandfather and Grandmother, who until that moment had worn uniform expressions of guilt. They smiled at me. I proudly wore the reminder of their healing; it was a way to keep them with me always.

"Whenever you're ready."

I reached my hand out, and Jacob took it in his. I squeezed a little as she bit into my neck. He hated this part; it made him feel helpless and territorial. He was allowing the most absolute law in his tribe to be broken. While the end result meant freedom from the disease, it didn't stop his instinctual desire to protect. I needed him too much to talk him out of attending. His warmth was like the healing sun, and I felt it flow through me, giving me the strength to push my inner light out into Carolyn.

It was over quickly for me. I heard Carolyn fall to the floor, trying hard to fight the screams building in her throat. She couldn't. A loud wail rocketed out from between her lips, and I had to cover my ears to keep the drums from bursting. This was the not fun part, the transition. In seeing them writhe in agony, I sometimes forgot how I was supposedly helping them. This was the part that never wavered, and I hated it. If I could find a way to shorten the duration, I would. The problem was that I didn't really have time to look for a way. Could I bypass this? Was there something I could do to hasten the result?

Jacob pulled me toward the kitchen, where a cool glass of milk waited for me on the counter. I drank it slowly, the action having no real significance beyond repetitive motion. I had my own pain to contend with. The blood inside me, uniquely able to cure, had to self-replenish; I was weak and drained. While I could have taken the easy way and gone hunting, I had given up my liquid diet fully. To go back now after being away from it for so long – I didn't know if I would be able to stop myself with just a single forest creature. I was scared that I would need something more, something that still tempted me – human blood.

The urge was the worst with the SCALLs. When they turned, a sickeningly sweet smell that was like overripe fruit filled the air. The craving was strongest for me at that point.

Jacob moved a strong hand to brush away an intrusive curl from my face. Even they were too worn out to fight with him. His lingering hand caught my chin, tilting my face upward to his. His lips were soft at first, questioning. I was losing the strength of the human smell in Jacob, but the wolf aroma was more potent than ever. I smelled sawdust, his sadness moving into me through the connection of our lips. I took that inside, changed it, and converted it to contentment, amity. I deepened the kiss, energy regenerating from the closeness between us. He was my own personal battery pack. I drew in the scent of his breath, noting the slight shift in emotion through the newest smell that was Jacob. This was chimney-fire. It represented something cozy and comfortable.

"Ahem," Dad said from across the room. "Everything's okay over here, in case you were wondering."

Dad enjoyed interrupting. Sure, he wanted to make certain I knew Carolyn was alright, but he could tell that I knew she was. His role had become something more antagonistic than fatherly, and he found great joy in tormenting Jacob. He was pleased when Jacob growled at him in response. I wouldn't complain. It could have been far worse; they could still hate one another. The petty rivalry was amusing. They were more like brothers than anything now. That was better in the long run, even if I often got stuck in the middle of their bickering.

Carolyn was not yet on steady legs, but neither was I. I nodded to Carlisle in approval when he gave me a permissive glance. He picked her up and moved her to the waiting room.

"Hungry?" Jacob asked me.

There were many mealtimes, and Grandmother loved that not only could she use her kitchen for me, but also for her and Carlisle as well. Jacob was nearly as hungry as I was at any given moment, and I was pretty sure, between the two of us, we were the sole reason for additional employment at the local grocery.

"Tired," I replied.

If he says I told you so, you can throw something at him, I offered to my father.

I noticed Dad shift from the far side of the room, ready to accept my invitation to heave something at Jacob.

"I'll take you home," Jacob replied, and I could see Dad's disappointment from the corner of my eye.

Jacob was tired too. He didn't have time to play. Between tending to me and taking care of his pack, his energy was stretched dangerously thin. Sliding out the back door, we circled around to the forest. This always made him nervous. He was sure some overeager member of the waiting party would lose all sense of control and charge. I didn't have similar fears. Those that were waiting already had more insight and control than newborns. They weren't likely to become frenzied.

We took each step with focused effort. Falling down was a bad idea. I needed to be strong for him and for me. While I appreciated his support – craved it – I couldn't let him see me in a weakened state. He would pressure me more about slowing down. Realistically, slowing down was the worst thing I could do. It would simply drag out the process for a longer period of time. I didn't want to keep them waiting any longer than they already had to. My biggest concern was there would be more coming in than I could ever handle on my own, the stream never-ending.

When I sighed, he moved closer and swung his arm over my shoulder. The added weight nearly brought me to my knees; I could barely carry myself. For a portion of the walk, no words were spoken. There was no wildlife to offer sound. Winter was dismal, void of life and hope. Even with my sunshine at my side, I couldn't put away the gloomy mood that haunted me.

"Let's go away for the day," Jacob suggested, catching me off guard.

"Go...where?"

"Anywhere," he decided. "So you can catch your breath. I'm worried about you."

"I'm fine," I retorted quickly. Here we go again.

Why couldn't we just keep walking to the cottage in silence so that I could enjoy a few moments of closeness to him without the worldly stress and obligations messing it up?

"You don't look fine," he persisted.

"Do we really have to do this?" Please – please let's not do this.

"Well, if you'd stop being so pigheaded and actually listen to me, I wouldn't have to repeat myself."

Crap, we're really doing this.

"It wouldn't kill you to take a day off, you know," he continued.

"You 're one to talk, Jacob Black," I clearly couldn't keep my mouth shut. "It's not like you're resting either."

"I'm not the one we're talking about here, Ness." He sighed. "It's not just me who's concerned."

"So you're the spokesman, are you?" I rolled my eyes. "When I want you to worry, I'll let you know."

"If something happens to you..." He paused, and I caught the shift in scent, his arm muscles flexing ever so slightly.

"Nothing's going to happen to me," I assured him, leaning in closer.

I didn't want to upset him. I didn't like him fretting over me, but my role as healer was far too important to let personal feelings get in the way. I had an enormous responsibility. Of all my family, he should understand that the most. He had duties as well, and aside from SCALLs, my biggest worry was him not fulfilling his obligations as Alpha. He was spending too much time with me to be doing that.

"You should be thanking me," I added. "I'm helping you do your job. This is supposed to make things less stressful for you."

"My job is looking after you," he said. "Everything else is secondary."

While I wanted that to make me feel important and gloriously adored, it didn't. It made me feel guilty because his pack needed him. They should have been his priority, but they never would be, because no matter how strongly he was bound to them, the bond he had with me was stronger. I was the reason he wasn't looking after them the way that he needed to. Couldn't he do both? Could I do both if I was in his position?

Coming to stand in front of the cottage, I shifted and pulled his other arm around my shoulder, encasing myself in the perfection that was Jacob. I nuzzled my face into his chest, grumbling at the material keeping me from his smooth skin. He smelled of chimney-fire, and I was thankful that we had somehow managed to make it through the day without some catastrophic argument splitting us apart. I needed him. Whether I wanted to admit it or not, I couldn't do this without him. He knew that. That made me feel all the more guilty, all the more helpless and out of control.

"I think you should sleep in your own bed tonight," I suggested.

He had been sleeping in wolf form outside my window for eight straight weeks. That might have had something to do with the black circles under his eyes. He didn't trust the bloodsucking swarm outside the main house. He thought that I didn't know, and I wasn't going to push the matter. I liked him there and slept easier knowing that he wasn't far from me.

"Maybe you should come to our home and keep me company," he retorted, a sly smile spreading across his perfect lips.

I experienced a sudden dampness in my mouth, accompanied by a lump in my throat that choked my words. I didn't have time to force it back down before his mouth found mine. The sweetness of sea salt flooded my taste buds, and I slid my arms around his waist, instinctively pulling him closer to me. The movement was instinctual as I tried to eliminate any excess space between us. He wasn't close enough – never close enough. Our breath was no longer two entities but belonged to one another, lungs sharing the same oxygen. He was the breath that I needed to continue. The muscles in his back twitched under the shirt, and I felt like taking hold of the offending material and ripping it free, exposing the treasure within.

My knees gave way, and I knew that I needed to stop. Nothing good could come from me so easily losing control. I was bound to take things too far, and he would have happily let me. While I might enjoy the moments that would follow, I would regret my inability to wait. I didn't want that lying on my conscience or his.

I slid under his arms and away from him. He gave a soft growl.

"Go take a few laps around," I suggested, cringing when I saw the ripple of movement under his muscle. "Soon."

"Not soon enough," he muttered and shifted before my eyes, shreds of clothing flying everywhere around us.

He padded over to me and forced his snout along my hand, making sure to dampen it.

"Gross," I whined, crinkling up my nose and wiping the slime on my pants. "See you tomorrow."

He howled into the night.

"I love you too," I whispered and dragged myself into the cottage and toward my room.