Summary—She phased out and back again and again before resigning to the only solid ground left to her: La Push was her only home now; Edward would only tolerate the smell of wet dog in his presence for so long.
Disclaimer—Own none of it. I'll just say it outright. Oh, and I'm using the title of an Incubus song only because it worked. This is most definitely NOT a songfic.
Rated T because I can only go where my muse takes me.
Romance/Angst
Diamonds and Coal
Chapter One
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She looked down at her bronze-colored paws and desperately tried to tune out the whispers of the others. They were confused. Another presence? What is this? What's going on? Who is it?
Bella.
She couldn't tell if the answering voice was answering the latter question, or if it was trying to gain her attention. Either way, she started and dashed away down First Beach before anyone could determine anything more.
You can't run from us, Bella.
But, ohhhhh how she wanted to. She wanted nothing more than to just phase back and run away from everything, but she was so frightened and scared… so angry.
She couldn't bear to look back down at her bronze paws. Their chosen color made her feel ill. Why? Why in God's name did they have to be bronze of all colors? Why couldn't they be a murky, mulch-y brown to match her hair? Why did they have to be bronze? Did the Powers That Be enjoy tormenting her thus? Did they enjoy reminding her of everything she could no longer have? It sure seemed like it.
Bella, come back. There's so much you need to know…
As if you could hide anything from her, Jake!
Ahhh. So it was Jacob that had been trying to calm her. That other voice must be Sam.
And she was inclined to agree with Sam, all misgivings set aside. Every emotion, every thought, and every memory—no matter how personal or intimate—from every one of the pack members was available to her like the pictures on a billboard. Even if she didn't want to know any of it, her mind was instinctively drawn to theirs like any eye to a bright light. She tried to focus only on Jacob, foolishly assuming that his thoughts would be the least embarrassing to witness of all of them.
Foolish.
Every flash she caught was of her, each one whipping through her mind at lightning speed, and yet she snagged every one—her at the movies, at the beach, in the workshop…. Each one was tagged with emotions and memories of thoughts he had had at the time. Every one of them was slightly different, and yet every one was laced with the sudden shock of the knowledge that Bella Swan truly was not all she seemed.
Bella? Are you there? Can you hear me? Think of anything!
Yes. I'm here.
Bella? Bella! Think of something!
I am you idiot!
Sam, I think something's happened to her. I can't hear anything! She's not responding.
She's fine.
What? You can't hear any more than I can.
No. I can't. But I can feel her. You're only using your mind; only trying to hear her thoughts. Use your heart. She's fine. She's listening.
…Oh.
She snorted in feigned laughter, trying to find some humor in this, but somehow it was even more frightening. I'm a freak. An impenetrable wall behind which anything can hide. I'm a monster. A keeper of lies. Dear God have mercy! I'm a freak!
She curled up under a sad little bush and stifled the howls that threatened to pierce the darkness around her. She would stay here till morning, and then return home—
But where was home?
She had recently become accustomed to the Cullen household as her home, as well as Charlie's roof, but both were out of reach for different reasons: The Cullens would never permit a werewolf inside their home, no matter how much said werewolf meant to them; She was now a danger to Charlie.
That left one place where she might—just might—be welcome:
La Push.
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Random plot bunnies cropping up while you're doing something completely unrelated… Fascinating, isn't it?
Is it satisfactory enough to even bother continuing, or should I just cut my losses and stop now? You're choice. Tell me which option you prefer.
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