Disclaimer: "The Host" and all characters belong to Stephenie Meyers. My own OCs belong to me.

Summary: The humans have gained a small foot hold with the help of Souls who have gone native. More and more Souls are being extracted and sent to other planets. However, not everything is going as planned. Some Souls have been in their hosts too long. What happens when a host retains the Soul's personality and characteristics as its own? Will the body be able to become its own person and will the host's loved ones come to terms with the Soul's loved ones?

Chapter One

The Awakening

They said that waking up is like coming back to life. That sleep is like a little death. Some poet once called sleep the sister of death. I couldn't remember the name of the poet, my host was not gifted with an extraordinary memory; in fact, I found it forgot things rather easier than I would have liked. This is why it was so hard for me to place where I was. But it was a bit like coming back from the grave, wondering where you are and how you came to be there. I opened my eyes and looked around.

I was laying on my side, my hands clasped between my knees in a protective gesture, my face half turned away from the dim yellow light that fluttered from overhead. I was drooling onto my pillow, a habit I could not break my host of, so I closed my mouth with a snap and wiped my chin. No one was in the small room which seemed to be a shabby version of a healing facility. What was I doing here? I pushed myself half upright and rubbed the sleep from my eyes as I looked around.

Shabby was perhaps too kind of a word for the room. Five other beds were scattered around the room with crisp white sheets and thin green blankets. They were neat and clean but empty save for mine. The beds were good, but little else met standard. The walls were faded gray paint and spotted with brown spray paint. The floor was smooth concrete but cracked in long lines that led to a rusty drain in the center of the room. This room was for the physical comfort of the body, not the pleasing aesthetic of the eye.

But why was I here? Something was niggling at the back of mind, something important but I couldn't put my finger on it.

A sound of footsteps in the hallway brought me to my feet. I was a little shaky and had to hold myself up with a hand on the bed. A sharp memory of chloroform filled my mind and I gasped a little. I had been drugged!



I heard a sharp intake of breath and I looked up. A young man stood in the doorway staring at me. A smile spread across his face and he held up his empty hands. He was dressed in the light blue scrubs of a Healer and his face was too young, too eager to be a doctor.

"You're awake!" he announced.

I stared at him my heart jumping into hyper drive, "You're human."

He was startled at my words and my actions as I backed away. I must kill my host and myself before he has a chance to touch me. I struggle to find the courage as the important something screams silently at me to stop.

"It's okay, I know you're confused," he began, "But I'm going to hurt."

I close my eyes and withdraw my attachments. I wait for the pain; it would be terrible, but brief. I wait; it seems to be taking a long time. Still nothing, have they somewhere removed my only defense? Have the humans discovered our weakness? Panic shoots through me and I fall, hitting my head a loud crack against the metal bed. The floor is hard when I land but I do not notice it. I am sobbing and crying, blubbering as my partner Patrick would say. My partner!

"I'm not going to hurt you," the Healer who was not a Healer said. He was close beside me and trying to comfort me as I twisted away, "Please, your head is bleeding let me take a look at it."

I continue to press away from him. I feel hands under my arms and the next moment I was lying in the bed again. I don't struggle, but I cover my face with my hands as I weep. The Healer sighs in annoyance and walks to the door.

"I need some help in here. Bring some Clean, Heal and some food please. Somebody go and find Wanda for me."

"Is she awake?" comes an answering voice.

He glances back at me, I can feel it, but he turns away and answers, "Kinda."

He comes back to the bed and I roll away from him, pressing my face into the pillow. I am sensible of the pain on the back of my skull but the pain of the wound is little beside the fear that is overwhelming my system. Where was Patrick? What had they done to me? To him? To our baby?

"It'll be okay soon," the Healer says with a sigh, "My sister is coming to talk to you. She's—one of you."

One of us? What was he talking about?

Footsteps in the hallway alert me to the presence of two new people. One of them is wearing perfume that wafts sweetly toward me as the wearer comes near. The other had brought in a tray that raddled against the hard floor. The jarring sound drowned out my sobs for a moment and I tried to catch my breath.



"What's wrong Jamie?" a high delicate voice, female, inquires.

"I'm not sure, Wanda. She woke up a few minutes ago. She's confused and I think—I think she still believes she's a Soul."

"What do you mean?" the gentle voice asks again. She isn't shocked merely curious.

"I mean, she got that look in her eyes that they do when they're going to kill themselves. When nothing happened she collapsed."

"I see," Wanda came nearer and smoothed my long red hair away from my face. I looked up at her expecting to see another wild human. Her eyes caught the light as if on purpose and I saw the reflective gleam of silver. We both gasped at the same moment.

"Jamie, she's—"

"You're a—," I began.

"Soul," we finished together.

"That impossible," Jamie, the Healer said coming to my side and clicking on a light pen. He flashed the light in my eyes and I shut them, tears springing in against the invasion of bright light, "My God," he said, "They're still silver."

I was suddenly mad, "Of course they are. Every Soul's eyes are silver in these hosts."

I looked at the young woman; she was really no more than a girl. She was tiny and petite in the extreme, but her eyes were knowing and –kind, "What have you done to me?"

"Let Healer Jamie take care of your head, you're bleeding badly," she said, "And I will explain. Lily, please go and find Melanie for me will you?"

I noticed the third person for only a moment before she disappeared into the corridor again. My head was beginning to ache terribly and I felt that if they were going to kill me that it could not come soon enough. Such is the weakness of the human body.

I moved so my head was easy to reach, the blood still seeping from the torn skin.

"Open your mouth," Jamie instructed. When I looked at him in suspicion, Wanda smiled.

"He only wants to give you some No Pain," she explained, "To ease the headache."

I obeyed. I knew No Pain; I had had to use it when giving birth. It was pleasant and not a threat. He laid the little tissue square on my tongue and I swallowed.

"Now," Wanda said taking a silent cue from the Healer, "Why don't you tell me who you are?"

"Ruby Light On Snow," I answered.



"I'm pleased to meet you," she said, "I am Wanderer here. Most people call me Wanda for short."

"You're a Soul."

"Yes, I am," she met my gaze frankly.

"But these are—humans," I said, "Wild humans."

"They are," Wanda waited for a moment, "So are you—now."

"What do you mean?" I said, "I am the Soul Ruby Light On Snow. I am not a human being."

"Ruby," Wanda began. She knit her fingers together and rested them on my bed. She seemed to be searching for the right words. I felt the damp spray of Clean again my head and the application of Heal a moment later. The ache was long gone.

"Ruby, your Soul was removed five days ago. You are no longer a Soul. You are only the Host now."

"The Host," I stuttered, "That's impossible."

"Your—Soul is in a Cryotank in storage," Jamie said smoothing my hair over my shoulder, "She is perfectly safe, "We haven't harmed her and we don't intend to."

"But—I am. I am still here," I touch my face where the tears are drying in tight salty tracks.

"I don't understand that," Wanda said, "We've never seen that before. We hoped that your host would—come back."

"My Host?"

"Her name was Phoebe Elliot," Jamie said coming around to Wanda's side, "Your brother Aaron helped us find you and bring you in."

"My brother?" I repeated. I suddenly sat up, "I have to go back."

"You can't," Jamie said, "We can't let you do that."

"But I have to—my partner will be looking for me. He'll be so worried—and the baby."

"The baby," they said together. Jamie's eyes bulged and Wanda put a hand on his arm.

"What baby?" Wanda all but whispered.

"My baby, me and my partner's baby." I swallowed, "Our human baby."

"Oh my God," Wanda whispered in horror, "I know you. I've seen you before. Oh Jamie, what have we done?"



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