Author's Notes:

I took a really long hiatus, and nearly gave up on writing for good, but I've seen the light. I've written about half of this story already now, so new chapters should be up every day or two. If you're an old reader of mine, I've started rewriting 'Military Academy' and that story will hopefully be finished sometime this year. Finally! Also, wow! I'm amazed you're still here. If you're new, then who even cares, right?

This is my favourite story idea I've ever had, so enjoy!

Chapter 1: Escape

"Hi mom, I'm home," Bella called from the hallway, as she yanked her key out of the front door and slammed it shut. She had pushed it into the lock a little too hard, just a few too many times, and now it was permanently bent slightly out of shape. It still worked though, so she wasn't complaining. She lived in a nice, warm house, albeit with her parents, but it was more than many had. She could deal with a broken key. It was just that it was so goddamn annoying! She saw red and clenched her teeth with a rage so fierce she thought it might tear her clean in two.

The angry thought vanished almost as quickly as it reared its head, and she blinked in surprise. Where the thought had come from she wasn't sure, but it had been happening a lot lately. The hot, instantaneous flashes of fury and anger appeared out of nowhere and then, moments later, it was as if nothing had happened. She couldn't explain it, any of it, and it perplexed her more than she wanted to admit. She had never been a particularly angry person before… well, before her twentieth birthday a few months ago, if she had to guess. That had been around the time that she had started snapping at her friends, at her parents, and even at the neighbour's dog over the stupidest things. She couldn't even remember what half of the gripes had even been about, except that she had been momentarily angry to the point of violence each time, before getting over it entirely. She suspected a mental breakdown was on its way.

"Hey there, Bella," Charlie called from the other end of the hall, before he appeared in the doorframe. Her dad was in the kitchen then. She wasn't surprised. He had taken her parents' separation a few months ago fairly hard, and spent most of his time with his nose in a cookery book or baking magazine these days.

"Hey back, Charlie," she called, dropping her messenger bag on the floor by the door before hurrying down the passageway to give her dad a hug. He didn't blink at her calling him Charlie. She'd been doing that ever since she was old enough to realise that his name wasn't actually Dad. She figured, considering the somewhat strained relationship he had with his parents, and now his wife, that he was just glad they were talking at all. She made sure to show him she loved him as much as possible to make up for it, and now that was so much more important with her mother not talking to him anymore. Speaking of her mother…

"How was work, Bells?" Renee's carefree call preceded her down the stairs, wrapping Bella in a warm hug of familiarity even before she was pulled into her mother's waiting arms. She tucked her head down and counted to ten, before pulling away gently until Renee released her. It wasn't that she didn't want to hug her for longer, but she had only hugged her father for nine seconds and she knew that he would notice. He noticed everything now and she knew that kind of thing would bother him, even if he would never be bold enough to say it aloud.

"Fine," Bella lied, as her parents both watched her expectantly. She knew that she couldn't tell them the truth, that she hated every single of her miserable existence whilst at the office, but she knew that it would crush them if they knew how relieved she really was to leave that place and come home. Things were far from perfect here too, but at least these two people loved her, even if they didn't much care for each other.

"No-one bothered you today, honey?" Charlie asked, sneaking a quick glance over at Renee when he thought she would be distracted looking at Bella. Unfortunately, her mother had reflexes like a cobra, and shot him a dirty look out of the corner of her eye. He looked away quickly, back to Bella.

"Nope," Bella told them, hoping that the hopelessness in her eyes wouldn't give too much away. Thankfully, neither of her parents noticed, and the conversation drifted into silence. Renee was still glaring at Charlie, and Charlie was trying to look innocent and peaceable. It made subterfuge easier when they were more interested in bugging each other than bugging her. "So, what's for dinner?"

"Ask your father," Renee griped, and turned her back on both of them to head into the dining room and set the table. She did it every night, just like Charlie cooked dinner every evening. He was recently retired from the Forks Police Department, and her mother had never really had a job to begin with, so they had plenty of time to spend in the house preparing dinner for their daughter. Bella remembered a time when they had used to prepare the meal together, but that time was long gone. Now they organised their schedules to avoid each other as much as possible.

"That was great, Charlie," Bella said, pushing most of her caramelised parmesan mountain away from her on the not-even-close-to-empty plate. She had no idea what she had eaten, but it had truly been delicious. Her father was definitely getting better at the whole cooking thing. It was just a shame that he cooked enough for four portions each. "You should make this again."

"Humph." Renee made a noise, and Bella tried not to smile. She couldn't compliment just one of them anymore. They were like children.

"Your table decoration looks wonderful, Renee," she told her earnestly. She pointed at one of the folded napkins. "That really does look like a dragonfly this time." At least, she hoped that was what it was supposed to be. She saw her mother beam, and sighed in relief, knowing that she'd got it right.

She wished that her mom would smile more, but nobody really smiled in their house anymore. The barely-three bedroom condo on the edge of town was now more of a boarding house than a home. Renee had the master bedroom at the front of the house, Charlie had moved into the box room at the back of the house, and the childhood bedroom Bella had always loved was now sandwiched between their bitter breakup.

Neither of them had nearly enough money for another house, even a rented flat, so they had come to the conclusion fairly quickly that they had no choice but to remain under one roof. Bella didn't think that her dad was that upset about the proposition; he'd always been the quiet, placid one anyway, but her mother had not taken it well. She'd posted a shower schedule outside the shared bathroom a week after Charlie had moved his clothes out of her room, and now tried her best to avoid him.

Bella couldn't help but wonder what had gone wrong. It had all happened so fast. She had celebrated her twentieth birthday, and she distinctly remembered her parents making out in the kitchen during the party, but it couldn't have been much after that when the arguments started. She had started having the anger flashes around the same time too, she estimated. Her friends had thought that it might be a side effect of her parents' marriage imploding, and she was inclined to agree. After all, what else could it be?

Her father left the dining room to wash the dishes, and Bella faintly heard a news broadcast as the television in the kitchen turned on.

Her friends, Bella thought absently. Some friends they were. She remembered telling Angela, Jessica and Lauren, the girls at work, about her parents, and about the anger she'd been feeling. Lauren had never really been overly friendly, but the others were her closest friends in the world. They had been to school together, gone to parties together, were inseparable. Or at least they had been. A few days after they had been consoling her over her parents' dramas, and reassuring her that she wasn't experiencing menopause two decades early, they had started gossiping amongst themselves and stopped talking to her.

She didn't know what she had done to upset them, but the three of them had made it their mission to sabotage all of her paperwork and every task she was assigned. Every day, they would find new ways to undermine and spite her. They only seemed to get more vicious and more venomous when she got upset about it, so Bella had learnt quickly to stay calm and ignore them. It seemed to work, but she was now lonelier than ever.

"The two were last seen crossing the state border into Washington late last night. Police say that they are heavily armed, and should not be approached under any circumstances."

Bella's head snapped up at the muffled words of the news anchors, drifting in through the open kitchen door. She stood up and hurried over to catch the rest of the story. Later she would never be able to tell anyone how, at that exact moment, she knew she needed to watch the television, but her gut told her that it was the most important thing in the world just then.

"What they do?" she questioned, and Charlie glanced around as if surprised to find her in the kitchen.

"Guy an' a girl, your age, broke out of a maximum security prison in Nevada yesterday. Evaded the FBI and hijacked a car heading straight for Seattle. Now you know as much as I do, Bells," he told her.

"Oh," Bella said, trying to sound nonchalant, but inside her stomach was churning. She knew she had no reason to feel nervous, since she had no idea who these people were and what they might have done, but her stomach still felt like she'd eaten a horse then immediately gone for a jog.

"… the FBI are appealing to anyone who sees them to report it by calling this number immediately." Two mug shots flashed up on screen as the man spoke, and Bella gasped in shock. She had known that they were her age, but she hadn't expected two dangerous criminals to be so normal looking. One of them was a slim brunette girl, who looked no older than eighteen, her pixie cut hair framing her pale face like a halo. The other was a seemingly slightly older man, with blonde, shortly-cropped hair and eyes that were so shadowed by deeply furrowed brows that she couldn't make out the colour. The expressions on their faces made Bella's stomach knot even further. They both looked so determined and fierce that it felt like they were staring straight at her, into her and inside her soul. "The authorities would like to remind the public," the female anchor continued, "that these two fugitives are said to be responsible for the deaths of at least six people, and should not be approached."

"They certainly look like killers, don't they?" Charlie mumbled, dishes forgotten as he watched the report on screen.

"I guess," Bella agreed, although she knew deep down she was lying. The two people on the screen looked menacing from the outside but she was captivated by the brunette girl's eyes. They were not, as one might have expected, full of anger. They looked to Bella instead to be filled with hope. Or maybe she was just wishing it to be true. She was probably crazy. She couldn't help, however, feeling a certain sense of sorrow and loss when she looked at the two of them, one that she couldn't even begin to explain.

The screen flashed again, and Bella's gaze focused back onto the images once again.

"Eye witness accounts so far suggest that the two appear to be looking for something or someone. The FBI believes that this footage, taken just hours before the breakout occurred, could provide valuable insight into whatever or whoever they are after. Take a look, and call if you can help."

The image changed to blurry surveillance camera footage, angled down into an empty concrete yard. The legend on screen read that it was the training yard in the penitentiary. After a moment, the guy from the mug shot came into view across the yard and walked over until he was almost directly underneath the camera. He looked up, straight into the lens, and pointed right at Bella. She took a step back instinctively, before she remembered he couldn't possibly be pointing at her.

"We're leaving tonight," he said loudly and calmly, so the microphone on the camera could pick up his words. He looked as if he had not a care in the world, and exactly like someone who was not about to scale a wall to attempt escape from one of the most fortified buildings in the world. "I'm speaking to the one cloaked in fear and insatiable rage. You'll draw first blood soon, and then we will be united. See you soon, sister." Bella froze in shock as he winked up at the camera and strode back across the yard the way he had come. The anchor man's face returned once more to remind the public to stay safe, then the news was over and her dad went back to washing dishes.

The man was clearly not talking to or about her; he couldn't have been, so why did she feel so afraid. His words were utterly unfamiliar, but they touched something hidden inside her mind and made her question her whole outlook on life. She wasn't fear personified, but she certainly got upset a lot these days. Neither was she consumed by rage, but she had to admit that she had been extremely angry lately. He had mentioned drawing blood, not something she ever planned to do intentionally, but, even as she thought about it, something in her subconscious whispered that it wouldn't really be so bad to cause a bit of violence and pain. She shut the thought down as soon as it surfaced, but she was already freaked.

Hurrying upstairs in silence, Bella clambered into bed without even bothering to remove her shoes. She yanked the comforter over her head and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the rushing in her ears and the red she saw behind her eyelids. She pressed her clenched fists to her eyes to try to keep the tears from flowing and bit her lip, even as she heard Charlie calling from downstairs to ask what was wrong. She stayed quiet, but he didn't ask again. Instead she heard a door slam and another crash open.

"What the hell did you do now, Charlie?" she heard her mom scream, and almost immediately heard his scathing response. She stayed curled up, and let the tears flow freely now. Her parents always started to argue when she needed them most, when she was most upset. Perhaps that was just the way her life was supposed to be, she reasoned. Maybe she was just doomed to a life of hidden tears and vicious arguments. To a life of 'fear and insatiable rage', her subconscious supplied unhelpfully, and she stifled a sob. The man on the TV couldn't possibly be looking for her, but that didn't stop her from feeling like her world was about to come to an abrupt end.

"Where too next, darlin'?" the blond man asked as he hopped back into the driver's seat of the Chevy truck. The short girl next to him blinked once, then opened her eyes and turned her head to face him in the passenger seat. She smiled up at him and he grinned back, tossing her a paper bag full of candy bars and potato chips for the journey. She had finally seen something new.

"Forks," Alice replied. Jasper nodded and turned the key to start up the engine. They were close now, he could tell. Soon, they would all finally be together.

Author's Notes: Comment and criticise as you will. Thanks for your readership.