DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter or Twilight – they belong to J. K. Rowling and Stephanie Meyer, respectively. Also, within this story I make use of a few small ideas from Supernatural, Vampire Diaries and Anita Blake – the credit for which goes to Erik Kripke (& Co.), L. J. Smith and Laurell K. Hamilton, respectively. No copyright infringement is intended.

Warnings: AU, Slash and Het pairings will feature in this story, but the main pairing will be Slash (that being Edward and Harry). For now there will be nothing graphic, but that might change later.

Author's Note: Hi all! Thank you so much to all who've taken the time to read/alert/fave my fic, and especially to those few who've chosen to review. Any response (bar flames) means a great deal to me! This is the very first idea I've had for a fanfiction that has actually fleshed itself out. So far I seem to favor a slow build-up where my writing is concerned. I am very tempted to speed things up just to get it out there, but this story needs to be told at its own pace and I accept that. So it's going to be slow in the beginning – certain things need to be sorted before the action can kick in, but it will come. Trust me. Oh, as a side note, I am completely ignoring the theory that Vampires hearts don't beat. As simple logic proves: no heartbeat = no blood flow; no blood flow = no erection… I couldn't possibly do that to these boys, I'm sorry. As this is my very first story ever, please be kind. Constructive criticism is welcome; flames are not. That said – enjoy! (",)

/A\

Masquerading as a man with a reason

My charade is the event of the season

And if I claim to be a wise man

It surely means that I don't know

On a stormy sea of moving emotion

Tossed about, I'm like a ship on the ocean

I set a course for winds of fortune

But I hear the voices say

Carry on my wayward son

There'll be peace when you are done

Lay your weary head to rest

Don't you cry no more

»KansasCarry On My Wayward Son«

CHAPTER ONE

Another day in the fabulous 'life' of the undead, thought Edward Cullen sarcastically, sitting down with Alice and Bella at their usual lunch table by the windows. He resisted the urge to sigh loudly in frustration. Alice sent him a concerned glance, sensing Edward's restlessness and annoyance, being the closest to him of all in the family, apart from their father figure, Carlisle. Edward merely gave a slight, almost imperceptible shake of his head. He would talk about things when he was ready – or rather when he figured out what was happening with him, for even he was unsure. Lately, Edward had been feeling increasingly like a caged lion, or an animal that sensed a great storm coming, and he had no inkling as to why.

Life in Forks had been moving along as it always had, although with a strange, lower-than-normal temperature drop as of late. He and his Vampire siblings put on the front of normal teenagers – albeit strikingly beautiful ones. The only difference being that Rosalie, Emmett and Jasper no longer joined Edward and Alice at Forks High School, having graduated the previous school year. Carlisle still worked at the hospital and Esme still spent most of her time in leisure, only working part-time as an interior designer. Edward and Bella, his human girlfriend, had recommenced their relationship after the debacle with the Volturi – an incident that irritated the relatively young being to no end, due mainly to the fact that it had happened at all. However, things were no longer the same – Edward could feel it. He knew, despite not being able to read her mind as he could everyone else's (being a telepath), that Bella was not significantly aware of the difference.

He did not know what, why, how this divergence was occurring, but the knowledge of it was strong within Edward. The fact that Bella did not seem to realize it made him suspect that the change had happened, or was happening with him.

He recognized that he was altered upon returning from Italy. He had thought this to be a small thing, something that would fade away quickly. He had been wrong. Something, some unknown thing, had shifted inside of Edward. He found himself disenchanted, jaded, with his existence as it currently was. But though he may no longer be the person that he used to be, he felt that he had never been more real – of this he had absolutely no doubt. For the first time in too long a time, Edward felt more like himself, like the person he truly was, as opposed to an imitation. He secretly rejoiced in this feeling, having forgotten what it felt like.

He did, however, worry as well. What was this change? Why was it happening now? What did it mean? He had so many uncertainties that he sometimes felt genuine fear. He felt fear of the unknown, fear of letting go of the safe routine his life had been for nearly a century, while simultaneously wanting to be released, then fearing that want. All the while, Edward went through it alone.

He knew that he had a very supportive and understanding family. He knew that they would do all they could to help him; he was eternally grateful for each and every one of them. He also knew, however, that, with his mind in such chaos, he would not be able to put into words what he was going through. He could not even explain it to himself yet.

Before Edward could think on it any further, he felt as though he was being watched. Surreptitiously, he looked around the cafeteria, searching for the culprit. Having to repeat high school was agitating as it was – he did not need plebeian probing to irk him further.

In the immediate vicinity, Alice was attempting to rope Bella into a shopping trip (which she had already planned); Jessica Stanley and Angela Weber were finalizing plans for a sleep-over; and Mike Newton was talking to Eric Yorkie and Ben Cheney about the pros of joining the football team. Tyler Crowley was absent, as he had been since the start of the school year a week ago – no one seeming to know why.

The surrounding tables seemed to be focused on much the same humdrum – the fashion-forward group discussing Paris Hilton, the football team discussing plays, the drama club (and its hopefuls) discussing the downfalls of Shakespeare (everyone was a critic, apparently).

He found no one inside the room paying particular attention to him, though. Glancing outside, purely to rule out the possibility, Edward caught sight of a boy by the parking lot, his eyes trained on him.

And suddenly the teenaged Vampire was assaulted with many images coming to him all at once. His eyes fluttered and he bowed his head while his body stilled completely. He tried to process everything he was seeing, which was proving difficult even with the speed of his vampiric mind.

He was seeing flashes. He saw himself laughing, relaxing, dancing. He saw himself zipping past different landscapes, from a brightly lit city to a dim, dense forest. He observed as he socialized in complete leisure, seemingly unburdened. He witnessed himself truly living, as opposed to merely existing, and with the type of freedom he rarely granted himself generally.

He saw what would be deemed unexciting things, but he also saw the contrary. He saw heated moments – touches, kisses, bodies entangled, flesh on flesh, not wanting to be unbound. Sweet looks, sweeter touches. Gentle caresses, possessive holds. And he felt. He felt the heat, the exhilaration, the calm, and, in every flash, mundane or not, he felt the love. He felt love and utter, utter contentment. The undeniable, enthralling certainty that came with knowing you were exactly where you belonged.

Just as abruptly as the scenes came, they stopped. Edward found himself inhaling deeply, desperately, as if coming up for air after plunging too deep underwater. He tried to keep his reaction from Alice and Bella, but found he couldn't bottle this up, as he did with his emotions at other times. Edward's already accelerated heartbeat seemed to have sped up, if that were possible, and his heart was most certainly attempting to tattoo the inside of his chest at that moment. His throat felt tight and his lungs were constricting in a way that would be painful, if not for the fact that he were a Vampire. Tentatively, he raised his head and looked outside.

The boy was gone.

Strangely, he felt disappointed by this. Edward did not know how he came to experience the flashes, but he did know, exclusive of rationalization, that none of them were fabricated. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, he understood – every image, every scene that had gripped him so thoroughly had really happened. They were memories, his memories. And every single one he had shared with him, the boy from the parking lot.

A…A

Italy was truly a magnificent city. One could go so far as to arguably say that most descriptions of its splendor and sophistication would be naught but understatements. The old-world feel of the city, from its cobbled walkways to its awe-inspiring architecture, charmed and captivated seemingly without exception. So enchanting was the very atmosphere of this place that even Edward, morbid as his motivation for being there was, could not help but be drawn in. And in being so immersed in all the thoughts and emotions that were evoked by the city, it became apparent very quickly that things were not as they should be, not as he remembered.

Before stepping onto Italian soil, Edward had been consumed by his indomitable intent. Upon hearing of Bella's demise, he had felt certain that he could not go on living, or pretending to live, as it were. It was as if the very means of his survival had been taken away from him. Yet as he stood in the shadows, and basked in the otherworldly feeling he was receiving from his surroundings, this did not seem quite right to him.

The comparatively young Vampire was caught up in a feeling that was very like déjà vu, and yet, at once, something different.

He, along with the rest of his family, had been to Italy many a time; naturally, the place was familiar to him. The sense he was getting from it now, though, was not mere recognition of a place he had visited previously. The bronze-haired being, at that moment, was feeling a level of intimacy only caused by in-depth knowledge and experience – intimacy that comes from knowing secrets that were hardly ever divulged, and virtually never to outsiders.

A city behind the city existed, and it was as if Edward could see it, feel it. In fact, it seemed to Edward that he had lived in it – but that couldn't be right, could it? Surely, he'd remember such a thing, especially considering the nature of his vampiric mind.

So distracted was he by this seemingly new discovery, the eternal teenager barely noticed that he had been approached.

"Well, well," said a deceivingly angelic voice behind him, "I had no idea we would be receiving a visitor at this time – did you, dear brother?"

Turning around, Edward found himself face to face with none other than the prize pets of the Volturi.

Jane and her twin brother, Alec, were part of the inner circle of the Volturi guard. Barely fifteen when they were turned, they were by far two of the most favored, and most frightening, additions.

Aro, the unofficial head of the Volturi coven and it's guard, fancied himself something of a collector – he delighted in acquiring more, and still more, talented Vampires to add to his already large force.

Based on this, and his 'visit', Jane in particular seemed to be highly threatened – as Edward gleaned from her thoughts.

"I rather thought to keep it a surprise," responded Edward lightly, as though his reason for being in Italy was nothing more than afternoon tea. His answer did surprise himself, somewhat, as the telepath was rarely so blatantly flippant. Despite this, he kept his features stoic as ever.

A cold glint entered Jane's eyes then, as though she would love nothing more than to torture the younger Vampire right there, as he was fully aware she could. Edward merely raised an eyebrow. He could afford the luxury of arrogance at that moment, as they were not currently in a very secluded spot – Jane could not safely follow through on her desires. Exposure of their kind was the single most forbidden act among the Vampire populace.

Alec, coming to this very conclusion, and no doubt sensing his sister's growing agitation, placed a hand upon her shoulder. The effect was instantaneous. Jane visibly calmed down, once again sporting the face of absolute child-like innocence.

"Shall we go ahead and meet with our dearest leader then, Edward?" she asked affably, her tone soft and yet still with that ever-present touch of threat. "Father will be most pleased to see you, I'm sure."

The Cullen smiled – his expression as frigid as his skin. "Doubtless," was his simple, yet loaded, response before following the twins.

And as he was lead through many shaded and deserted alleyways, before being taken underground to continue the journey through seemingly countless tunnels, Edward contemplated his situation.

He had come here with his purpose set: beseech the Volturi to end his existence, and, should they refuse, take drastic steps to ensure that they would. Somehow, the undead seventeen-year old found himself distracted, and his mind-set shifted. It would seem to him that he no longer wanted what he thought he did…

"I met with the Volturi," said Edward, coming out of his memories to focus once more on his Sire before him.

The darkness receded, and the damp stone walls of the underground passages of Volterra morphed back into the rich paneled wood of the walls in Carlisle's study. Edward slowly breathed in the scent of home, reassuring himself that he was indeed there, and had not thrown everything away, as he had so tactlessly decided – especially considering it would have all been for naught.

Two weeks had passed. A fortnight since Edward had had that one spike in his otherwise flat-lining existence.

His fleeting glimpse of the boy in the parking lot of Forks High School was something he had told no one of. Alice and Bella had tried constantly over that time to get any information out of him; they wanted desperately to know what had caused him to react so strongly that fateful day. As a matter of fact, Edward, himself, wanted to know just as badly.

He could still picture the boy all too plainly in his mind. He stood tall and proud, looking to be around six feet in height. He had messy midnight black hair, which he later imagined would be silky to the touch. His features were refined; his skin was smooth and glowed with a sun-kissed tan. And yet, taking all of this into account, his eyes were by far his most striking feature – almond-shaped, gem-like green eyes – liquid pools so deep one would surely happily drown in them. The young man, without a doubt, was one of the most stunning beings he had ever laid eyes on – not someone who could be disregarded or easily forgotten. Though his clothes – snug blue jeans, a black t-shirt and a well-worn black leather jacket – were nondescript, he most definitely stood out.

At least, he did to Edward. No one else, from what he garnered from their thoughts, had seen him. He would have believed the boy to be a figment of his imagination, if not for the memories he had received.

The recollections stayed on his mind constantly. He found he could not shut them out, and sometimes he did not even try. He thought that if he pondered on the flashbacks enough, perhaps he would remember more. Edward had come to the conclusion that these memories were from some time after his transformation. He could not understand how though. As far as he could tell, there were no gaps in his memory – at least, not since he's been a Vampire. These flashes, however, were remarkably clear; every detail could be recalled without obscurity, even the sounds and smells!

Edward was at a loss. He needed to see him again, to talk to him. He needed the boy to tell him who he was, and why he felt, inexplicably, that he was of great importance to him. This unknown person was driving him crazy and he did not even know his name!

Deciding he could take no more, at least not on his own, Edward sought an audience with Carlisle. His Sire may or may not be able to help him, with so little to go on, but he found that simply talking to Carlisle always put him at ease somewhat. Having the house conveniently empty of all other occupants, the young Vampire had walked up to the room he knew his father to be occupying.

The elder Vampire sat before him now, listening with great interest to the tale his eldest son was relating for the first time since it had occurred. The two of them were comfortably seated in the doctor's cozy second floor study, while the rest of the family had decided to take an impromptu trip to Seattle.

"I had told Aro why it was that I was there, in Italy," the youthful Childe continued, his tone detached. "I had not planned on revealing Bella's mortality to the coven, but, alas, Aro insisted upon reading my mind. Once that was done, I assured Aro that I no longer wished to go through with my initial plan. He would have seemed rather warm when wishing me well, except for the stray thoughts I garnered from him upon taking my leave."

Here Edward paused, allowing Carlisle the chance to speak, should he wish to. He did.

"I don't understand, son," he confessed, a slight frown marring his otherwise perfect features. "You say you forewent your original objective and that you were allowed to leave, but why did you then attempt to step into the sunlight anyway?"

"Ah, yes, that" Edward replied, a faint, humorless smirk on his lips.

Stepping into the sunlight, such a simple act, had been the plan Edward had settled on before he realized exactly what he was doing. It would have effectively exposed the supernatural to the humans, as Vampires tended to shine like disco balls in the sun, and would have lead to Edward's ultimate demise at the hands of the Volturi.

"I didn't attempt to step into the sunlight, Father. I was… nudged."

The doctor's eyes widened a bit. "Nudged?" he breathed out, finding this revelation immensely difficult to believe, but, at the same time, not doubting his Childe at all.

"Indeed," the young, gifted Vampire confirmed, a hard edge, almost undetectable, creeping into his voice. "That would be the precise moment that Bella collided with me, 'saving' me."

"Why?" was the Cullen head's simple query.

"It would seem that Aro required an excuse to kill me, so that he might use my life as leverage in order to get me to join his guard."

Carlisle seemed only able to shake his head, the underhandedness of their unofficial, self-proclaimed ruler now becoming apparent.

"Of course," Edward continued, tone laced with helpless agitation, "that ploy unintentionally brought their attention to a very much alive Bella, placing us in the unfortunate incident we now find ourselves in."

His father hummed, taking the opportunity to think on all that he had learned that afternoon – in a sense, continuing the conversation silently, due to his son's gift.

The Volturi now had a valid reason to pay his family close attention. Until Bella was turned, the Italian coven would seek them out. However, the solution would not be as simple as it might seem. For, should they eventually turn Bella, the act would definitively declare war with the Quileute tribe, as it would be a breach of their treaty. This, more than a fight with the Volturi, was something that Carlisle would not be able to tolerate. They maintained peace with the Quileute people. However uneasy the arrangement may feel at times, it was progression in the doctor's eyes. He would not have that destroyed.
The Volturi, and, of course, their immense guard, were not to be trifled with, though. And now, it seemed, his family was in the spotlight. And through all of this, Carlisle still had the most trouble thinking about Aro's iniquity.

Carlisle had always, deep down, acknowledged that the Volturi, Aro specifically, saw his family as a threat. After all, there was no other coven of Vampires, which they knew of, as large as the Cullens, save the Volturi, themselves. Still, the Cullen head had always held a certain respect for the ancient leaders in Volterra. Never had he seriously thought that Aro would make such an aggressive, devious hit against his family – even if Edward was alone at the time.

By the time Carlisle looked up again, Edward had a deep frown marring his flawless features. He was sure that his Sire knew what was causing him to appear such; however Carlisle decided not to broach the subject just yet. Edward was grateful. He wanted to think on things further before he felt ready to address the issue with anyone else.

After a short moment, Carlisle raised a different, yet still related, topic.

"Am I to understand, Edward," he began slowly, non-confrontationally, "that you no longer feel for Bella as you once did? Or, perhaps, not as strongly?"

Edward glanced at his father. He remained silent for a while, thinking how best to answer truthfully.

"I believe I will always feel strongly for Bella, Father," the undead young man began carefully, not wanting to give half-truths, or bring about false expectations. "On a level that I still cannot really explain, we are bonded. That fact, at least, hasn't changed. However, I no longer believe that what Bella and I have is what I had thought it was, or perhaps hoped it was."

Edward ran a hand through his already unruly hair – a very human gesture that he had not made in a long while.

"When I was in Italy, that déjà-vu type of feeling that I got utterly confused me," the Childe continued, having taken a moment to get his thoughts in order. "But at the same time, I found myself to be indisputably intrigued."

The feelings that the city had brought out in Edward, those would-be memories, needed to be investigated. He had an undeniable want to know more – more about what he had felt, about what he had thought, and mostly about the shift in his very being. He was no longer the same, but was now more genuine than ever. He was, in some sense, evolving. He felt a great need to know why.

"More than being different," the one hundred and six-year old Vampire tried to explain, his voice impassioned, "I feel as though I am awakened, awakened from a deep, admittedly self-induced slumber. A goal had set itself firmly in my mind, filling me with such great determination, giving my existence new, and solid meaning."

Edward paused, gauging Carlisle's reaction to his heartfelt vocalizations. His father's eyes were shining with so much emotion – joy, intrigue, wonder, love, hope – that the younger Vampire could not help but feel a sense of child-like accomplishment. His Sire, his mentor, and his father felt this happiness because of him. It, in turn, caused Edward to be beyond pleased.

"I have realized something about myself that I am not exactly proud of," the Childe continued, sobering up somewhat, but not losing his good mood entirely. "I had been allowing myself to stagnate. For almost ninety years, my entire existence as a Vampire basically, it is as if I have been in hibernation. But now, Father, I have finally made the conscious choice to grow, to move forward. I'm finally realizing that nothing can be done about the past, but the best part about it is that it is over. It's time I lived again."

Carlisle sat back in his large leather wing-backed chair, seemingly staggered. He was still exuding all the feelings of a very proud father, though.

"Edward," he said softly, with clear admiration, "I have been waiting for this day, son – for as long as you have, but with as much patience as I could."

Edward grinned sheepishly, but did not interrupt.

"When I had first turned you, you had such great vibrancy and curiosity. This seemed to wane over the years. I had thought that it was merely this new form of existence taking its toll. I suppose I was partially correct. The loss, however, was most noticeable when you returned from the time you had spent on your own. I couldn't understand it fully, but, then, I hadn't been around for any experiences you might have had. I decided to give you your space, though; allow you to come to terms with things on your own. I assumed you would approach me when you felt you could. Well, it's taken a bit longer than anticipated, but here you are."

Carlisle chuckled, gazing fondly at his eldest Childe.

Edward gave him a small smile. He settled back in his own chair, taking a deep, albeit unneeded, breath. It was time, he thought, that he told someone of his present and primary enigma – the unknown young man he'd seen.

"There is more, father."

"More?"

"Two weeks ago," Edward began, deciding to get straight to the point, "while in the cafeteria at school, I had the strangest sensation of being watched."

Knowing what Carlisle was about to ask, both due to his thoughts and the look of worry on his face, Edward shook his head.

"No, not anything threatening – it felt as though I was being observed. I was. There was a boy in the parking lot staring in at me. And while his presence is significant, I believe, he isn't the most baffling occurrence."

Here the younger of the two Vampires paused, thinking how best to explain his experience, and simultaneously allowing the memories to come to the forefront of his mind.

"I... my mind – it seemed to open up spontaneously. I'm not entirely sure how to describe the incident. To put it simply, though, I remembered."

"Remembered what, Edward?" Carlisle enquired, trying to decipher what he was being told.

"Snippets," Edward replied plainly. "Snippets of a life I most definitely lived, but had no recollection of up until fourteen days ago."

Carlisle was at a loss. As far as he knew, Vampires did not suffer amnesia, or any type of memory loss for that matter. "How is that possible?"

Edward shrugged elegantly. "I… don't know. But I do know that the flashes I saw weren't fictitious; they were my memories – memories experience with that very same boy I saw that day."

"The boy…?" Never before had Carlisle been so confounded. He had no idea what to make of any of this new information. Edward wryly considered that he could relate.

"He feels important, Sire," he stated. It felt imperative that he make his father understand this point, above all else. "Important, no, vital to me."

Carlisle nodded, seeing that Edward required reassurance, but was still attempting to process what his son had just relayed.

"This still calls for consideration, son," he said carefully; caution must not be shirked.

Edward readily agreed. He had very recently been reminded of the value of his family, and quite forcefully at that. He was not going to allow any jeopardy to befall them if he could help it.

"But what exactly are we to consider at this point?" he asked.

And that, really, was the crucial question.

A…A

Bella Swan had never felt more adrift.

She was dead on her feet, completely drained, with no physical reason to feel that way. Almost home from another mundane day at school, Bella knew exactly the cause for her feeling this way – it being entirely emotional – but had thus far been rather successful in avoiding any thought on the matter. She simply wished to get home and not have to consider anything heavier than what to cook, at least for a few hours.

Parking her old and incredibly run-down, but extremely loyal, truck in the driveway next to her father's cruiser, Bella stepped out into the cold, moist air. Her whole body shivered as a gust of wind, colder than she'd ever remember it, hit her full on. She pulled her jacket more tightly around herself. It was only the beginning of fall – it shouldn't be this cold, even in Forks.

As she began walking up the path to the house, the front door opened. Bella paused. It was barely half past three in the afternoon – her dad shouldn't be home yet.

Someone Bella had never met before stepped out onto the porch. He had his head turned away from her, though, facing her dad, whom he was still having a conversation with.

Bella frowned in confusion. There was no apparent reason for it, but to her this all seemed to be very strange.

She was about to make her way to the house again, when the unfamiliar person turned towards her. Bella could not help the gasp that escaped her.

The boy, one around her age, as she now saw, was beautiful – ethereally beautiful. If not for the obvious discrepancies, Bella would have sworn he was a Vampire.

His fine, aristocratic features, framed by a mop of jet-black hair, seemed to be faultless; he moved with such grace that she had only ever seen the Cullens pull off, and with remarkable confidence (for one so young) exuding from his every movement. However, his skin was sun-kissed, not deathly pale, and his eyes were different.

Where, she knew, a Vampire could have only red or golden eyes, this unknown teenager's was the most unusual, striking shade of green. Bella almost felt hypnotized.

The stranger seemed to pause in his steps once he noticed her – though it happened so quickly, Bella was unsure if that truly was the case – before reaching his very fancy car on the side opposite the pathway. He raised his hand and gave her a short wave before climbing in.

Belatedly, Bella raised her own hand, but the stranger had already started his car by then, and was backing out onto the road.

Someone cleared his throat. Startled out of her daze, Bella turned to find her dad, Charlie, looking at her, an amused expression on his face. Blushing, Bella cleared her own throat, refusing to look away at her dad's teasing.

"So," she said, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, looking curious, "who was that?"

"Ah," her dad responded, looking to where the boy's car had disappeared, though it was long since out of sight. "That was a new resident of Forks, would you believe?"

Bella's eyes widened slightly. "Wow," she said, only half-joking. "Someone actually moved to this little backwater town? Did he come willingly?"

Her dad rolled his eyes, not deigning to respond to his daughter's banter.

"What was he doing here?" the teen inquired.

"Boy seems to be more well-mannered than any eighteen year-old I've ever heard of," replied Charlie, looking and sounding quite impressed by this. "Came over to introduce himself to the Chief of Police, thought it the polite thing to do, what with this being such a small and close-knit town."

It was Bella's turn to roll her eyes. "Sounds like a first class suck-up to me," she said good-humoredly. "He must be up to something."

The Chief just smiled at his girl's light-hearted behavior; it has been a while since he's seen her this way.

"What's for dinner?" he asked, effectively changing the subject.

Bella sighed in mock exasperation. "Really, dad, what did you ever do without me? I'm honestly interested in how exactly you managed to survive all those years."

A…A

After dinner, Bella decided, with full blessings from her dad, to go down to the Quileute Reservation. Having been under house arrest for quite a while after her return from Italy (though that part remained firmly hidden from Charlie), Bella had had little time to do much else besides her homework. That meant that seeing Jacob – or rather fixing up the mess she had created around herself and Jacob – had to be put off until such time that her father deemed appropriate.

The eighteen year-old teenager had had no problems serving her time, having taken full responsibility for her actions. Regardless of how deserving she was of punishment, though, being cooped up for such a prolonged period of time had been taxing on Bella. The fact that her best friend (she hoped), Jacob Black, had refused to answer her calls, or call her back, had only emphasized her need to go out and do something proactive about that particular situation.

Now, however, after a semi-lengthy conversation with her dad, that very morning, about the importance of evenly distributing one's time amongst all one's friends, it seemed Bella was off the hook. She honestly felt, though, that she could have done without her dad, however unintentionally, making her feel even worse about her treatment of Jake. It was just the spur she needed, nonetheless, to help get moving.

Once Bella was parked outside the Black family home, she paused before getting out of the truck, allowing her confusion to come to the front of her mind.
She had been certain that, as soon as Alice informed him of her decision, Edward would attempt to stop her from reaching the Reservation. He definitely made no secret of the fact that he did not trust the wolves. And although Bella knew that, at least, some of her boyfriend's misgivings and anxiety stemmed from his own prejudices, she did understand them. Mostly.

Yet here she was, already in La Push, and nothing. There had been no one trying to stop her on the way, before she reached the treaty line, the boundary that the Cullens could not cross as they weren't allowed onto to Quileute territory; she had not even received a phone call. The young woman did not know what to make of it – unsure whether to be worried or relieved.

But then she saw Jacob exit his house, and her resolve, and reason for being there, came back to her once again in full force. Jacob's steps faltered when he noticed Bella's truck, before deciding, no doubt, to ignore it, and her, completely.

Bella huffed. She knew she had a lot to fix, but Jake did not have to make it so hard on her, did he?

Scrambling, she got out of her vehicle; she needed to get to Jake before he disappeared.

"Jake!" she called out to him, hoping he'd stop. No such luck.

"Jake! Wait up, will you? Please!"

It seemed her friend had become deaf in the short time she had not seen him, though, as he just kept walking on. Considering the fact that Jacob was now around six foot eight, this put quite a distance between them. Bella began to jog.

"Jake, please! Let me fix this!" she pleaded.

Her werewolf friend must have heard the desperation in her voice – he slowed down, and then came to a stop. He did not turn to face her, though.

Bella hurried on until she was beside him, panting slightly and berating her lack of fitness. She'd have to work on that.

"Thanks, Jake," she gasped out, her hands on her sides, trying to stave off the stitch that she felt.

Jacob remained silent, staring off into the woods, his features dour.

Bella decided to move to stand in front of the huge teen. This proved to be fruitless – she had to look up, straining her neck, in order to see him, while he had the advantage of just being able to look right over her head.

Bella growled in annoyance. She punched Jake in the chest, and while it was little more than an aggressive tap, the young girl still felt some pain shoot up her arm.

"Ow!" she exclaimed, pulling back and massaging her knuckles lightly. Who knew werewolves were so solid!

Jake moved forward a bit then, as though to check that she was ok, but stopped himself. At least he didn't look away, though.

"Can we fix this, Jake?" Bella asked softly, earnestly, while she had his attention. "Please."

He sighed then, a long and tired sigh that made him sound so much older than he was. Bella did not like it. Jacob was her best friend – her always smiling, laidback, ever-warm best friend. He did not deserve to have any kind of immense weight on his shoulders. She wanted to be there for him, hoped he would still let her. She would not mind, at all, helping with some of the burden. She needed to somehow make things right, better.

"Fix what, Bells?" he asked wearily.

She was quite sure the endearment was a slip, but that didn't stop it from making her feel much lighter, more hopeful. She tried not to let it show, though. She still had some explaining to get through. And groveling.

"Are we going to talk out here?" Bella asked, knowing the type of conversation they had ahead of them.

"Good a place as any."

Bella closed her eyes briefly, holding off her irritation at Jacob's attitude. She was the one who had something to mend, the one responsible (at least mostly, in her opinion) who allowed the creation of this rift. Jake had no obligation's to make things any easier on her.

"Fine," she huffed, opening her eyes and flopping down on the ground right where she was.

"What are you doing?" Jake asked, looking down at her, one eyebrow raised.

"Getting at least a little comfortable," was the even response. "We need to talk."

Bella then looked pointedly at the towering teenager until he rolled his eyes and sat down in front of her, cross-legged.

The petite brunette took a deep breath, wondering if she should have rehearsed a speech. She decided that it was better she hadn't, however; it was better that this came from the heart. Sincerity was the key.

"I know I've hurt you, Jake," Bella began, getting straight to the core of the predicament. "I know I've been hurting you, and I cannot tell you how sorry I am."

She paused, watching for any reaction from the russet-skinned boy before her. Bella saw as his jaw clenched and unclenched, clearly tense, his hands busy pulling up blades of grass. He was listening; she could tell. He neither hindered her speaking, though, nor did he help her along. She chose not to take this as a negative thing and continued.

"Running to Alice, or to… to Italy – I know it seemed like that was me choosing the Cullens over you. I understand how it could be taken that way, justifiably. I do. But that's not what it was!"

Jacob scoffed, seemingly unconsciously. He looked over her head again, into the darkness of the woods far behind her. He said nothing.

"No, listen to me, Jake. That wasn't it, I swear! You know, Jacob! You know what I went through – you were with me for most of it –"

"Exactly!" Jake burst out suddenly. His eyes were blazing, filled with hurt and accusation as he turned his stare on her. Mostly hurt. Bella winced at the sight of it.

"Exactly, Bella! I was there for most of it. I was the one helping you, picking up the pieces that he left behind! I did that for you, Bella – for you. It's not like I was expecting a reward or anything, but you… it felt like you got all the use you could out of me and as soon as they came back, that was it. You ran off, left me behind. You left me behind."

This last was whispered in a voice so utterly dejected that Bella felt her heart crack. Tears stung the back of her eyes, but she refused to be the one who ended up needing comfort. That was Jacob; this was about Jacob. She didn't think she would ever experience this level of self-disgust, however. She did this, and to someone she considered her best friend.

"I never wanted to cause you pain, Jake," Bella said, not able to stop the quiver out of her voice, hoping her eyes conveyed the authenticity of her words, her feelings. "But I did, and I feel awful for all that I've done to you and how I made you feel – while you were trying to help me and after, when they…

"I know that seems like too little, and maybe it is, but, Jake, please believe me. I was in no way making a choice between one or the other. I really feel I shouldn't have to. He means so much to me, but you are just as important to me, Jacob. On levels I can't even begin to comprehend! I love you, Jake!"

Jacob's head snapped up at that; Bella felt staggered by the intense joy and hope radiating from him. Instantly, she felt worse. What was she saying? She knew, she knew how Jake felt about her, and here she was, saying things that could potentially be even more disastrous – to the both of them.

"As a friend, Jake!" she was quick to backpedal. "I meant I love you as a friend, my best friend."

It didn't seem as though this put the Quileute boy off in the slightest. He eyes were sparkling with life and buoyancy, and he was giving her his sunshine smile. Bella was ecstatic to be seeing it again, but she wasn't sure she wanted it out of a misinterpretation.

"Jake, it's not like that between us," the pale teen tried again. "I've told you before: I don't feel the same way."

"You may have meant that at one point, Bells," Jake said, his voice lighter than she'd heard in a while, even in his voicemail message. "But things have changed between us; I know they have."

"Maybe that's just what you want to believe, Jacob."

"You and I both know that's not true, Bella. You came here to, as you claim, get your best friend back, but you refuse to see that you can't bear to have me out of your life. That already shows that you see me as more than just a friend."

"Yes, you're more than a friend," Bella said, trying not to get agitated by her friend's stubbornness. "You're my best friend."

"Don't kid yourself, girl," Jake scoffed, his eyes brilliant and focused compellingly on her. Bella's head swam for a moment, as though she were dazed. Jacob could be intense sometimes. "You wouldn't come, no, sneak all the way out here, not telling your boyfriend, for just a friend. You wouldn't look at me, Bella, as though you feel what I feel so deeply – like my every pain were your pain. Not if I were just a friend."

Bella looked away from Jake's passionate eyes, breathing a bit heavier. She must really be upset by Jacob's misunderstanding. All the same, she had no idea how to respond to the wolf's words. More importantly, she had no idea how to deter him.

Jake placed his hand under her chin, turning her head so that she had to look at him. His eyes had softened somewhat. Bella found the gentle care which shone through them now flustered her even more for some reason.

"You should go home now, Bells," he whispered.

"What… why?" she asked, startled. She was not entirely sure she could be in Jacob's presence right now, but she also didn't really want to leave.

"We're cool now, Bella," he replied, easing some of her earlier worry – knowing, as he often did, what she needed to hear. "But part of the pack is on patrol tonight – including me."

The weight of those words hit Bella like a punch to her gut. Her breath came out in one big burst.

"Hey, it's ok," Jake reassured, pulling her into an awkward hug, considering they were still seated on the ground. "It's just routine, hun. Making sure the red-head doesn't get any further than we allow – if she even shows up at all."

"But, Jake, no!" Bella exclaimed loudly, fear evident in her voice. "What if –"

"What if nothing, Bella. I doubt anything exciting will be happening tonight, but if it did we can take care of it. Have a little faith."

He smiled blindingly again, getting up first and then helping her up as well.

Bella couldn't speak for a moment, too caught up in morbid thoughts of the pack – the young boys – that were risking their lives. For her. It was almost too much to bear.

Jake pulled her into a proper hug, comforting her silently. Bella held on tight.

"I'll call you tomorrow, okay?" he said softly into her hair.

The distressed teenaged girl could only nod against her impulsive friend's chest. Pulling away, she looked up at Jake. His eyes shone with happiness; the strength and – and love that he exuded was near overwhelming. Maybe she didn't feel the same way, but she just knew she couldn't lose him.

"See you, Jake," she said softly, then, more commandingly, "I better see you!"

Jake let out a short bark of a laugh and leaned down to kiss her on her forehead.

"You will, girl, don't stress."

He walked a couple of steps back, not taking his eyes of Bella. "Now go on, get out of here. We got work to do."

"Just… be careful, Jacob!" Bella couldn't help but call out as she watched her supernatural friend lope off.

Jake responded by throwing a cocky smirk over his shoulder at her.

Shaking her head, Bella headed home, her mind working overtime. Too much could go wrong, and very quickly. She was at the centre of so much potential mayhem. So many of her loved ones were endangered, and Bella did not have a clue as to how she could possibly help.

If only she were more than just a simple teenaged girl…

/A\

Author's Note 2: So, like I said earlier – slow start. Go with me on this though; I'm really excited to be telling this story – I hope it turns out as good on paper as I saw it in my head :P
Also, please don't expect all updates to be quite so quick... this chapter was already written, with just the last few kinks to sort out. With a baby, a job and my studies, though, new chapters won't necessarily be up quite so fast.

I need a little help though… being from South Africa, I'm uncertain on the schooling in the U. S. I simply need to know the times that schools in the U. S. vacation. I just don't want to have the characters be in school when they would actually be off and vice versa. I'm not entirely sure whether I'll be specific with the times in any event, but just in case… it would be nice to know :)

Right, so, on that note, please review. I would really like to know what you guys think – there's always room for improvement, right? Comments, constructive criticism, suggestions – I'd love to hear from you! Thank you :)