Chapter 1

"Morning, Bella!" Jake shouted cheerfully, smiling widely. I don't know why he bothered anymore; he knew I wasn't going to fuck him no matter what – I'd told him as much.

"Hey Jake," I replied quietly, offering a small smile in return. It was forced and it hurt my cheeks.

"Good weekend?"

I sighed very, very quietly. "It was fine."

"Yeah, mine was pretty boring," I didn't ask, asshole. "Just hung out with some of the guys, watched a couple of movies, hung out at some bars." You can stop talking now. I nodded vaguely.

"You should hang out with us some time! Quil misses you. And Embry. They haven't seen you in ages, B!" His tone was casual, but I knew where he was headed. I wasn't going to give in, though.

I just shrugged and turned to my desk, booting up my very out dated computer. Emmett offered to upgrade mine, but I honestly didn't give a shit.

Jake didn't stop, though. Apparently he couldn't take a hint, despite months of unenthusiastic replies on my part. I wasn't really listening; I just let him talk himself out, nodding and hmm-ing during the random pauses in his monologue.

I was eventually saved by Emmett, "Bells, how you doing?" he asked while taking a seat on his desk.

"Not bad, Em. Did you and Rose have a good weekend?" To be honest, I wasn't really that interested, but it's what I was supposed to ask him every Monday morning. It's not that I didn't care about Emmett, exactly; I just didn't care about anything.

"Yeah, it was great." He gave me a small smile and didn't elaborate, but turned to engage Jake in conversation about his latest case.

Once again I let the voices drift into the background. Everyone had learnt not to drag me in to conversations that lasted more than 30 seconds. Everyone except for Jake it seemed. That's what it had been like for the past eight months: polite, short conversations and that was it. Everyone had stopped trying. I loved it.

I settled in to the day, reviewing cases and typing out reports. I used to hate this shit, it was boring and dull work. Now, I embraced the numbness and let it take over. The dry work matched the rest of my existence – monotonous, repetitious, pointless. I never thought I'd see the day where I preferred the report writing to the fieldwork.

I was broken out of my reverie by Emmett's voice.

"Bells, grab lunch with me." It wasn't a request.

I looked over to the clock, noticing it was already noon. Had the morning really gone that quickly?

I looked over to Emmett. He was standing at my desk, coat in hand, waiting. We hadn't had lunch together in months. He didn't even ask me anymore because he knew what my response would be.

"Maybe tomorrow, Em? I really want to get as much done today as possible." I gave him a polite smile then went back to typing. I was shocked when my screen suddenly went black. Emmett's finger was on the power button of my monitor. He used to do this to me all the time back in the day, just to piss me off. He'd smile as I'd groan and throw a paperclip at his head – he knew I would get so absorbed in my work that any interruption would make me jump.

He wasn't smiling today, though. He looked determined.

"Bella," he said slowly and deliberately, "let's go out for lunch. I'm buying. We won't be long, I promise." His eyes bore into mine, completely serious and unrelenting.

I let out a sigh, much louder than I intended, and nodded. I grabbed my coat and was reaching for my bag before Emmett stopped me, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards the door.

"You won't need your bag, don't worry. What do you feel like eating?"

"Anything, I don't really mind," I muttered while trying to shrug on my coat, which proved to be impossible because he still hadn't let go of my hand. I tried to wriggle it out of his grasp but he wouldn't let go.

"Just pick something, Bella," he sighed, exasperated.

"Fine. Pizza." I tugged harder.

I stumbled backwards and almost collapsed as he suddenly let go of me to clap his hands together and smile widely. I hadn't seen that smile in months. "Great!" He exclaimed. "I feel like deep dish. Let's go to the place around the corner." He rubbed his hands together in anticipation and led us out of the station.

It was a quiet walk. Emmett tried a couple of times to engage in small talk, but my short answers made it impossible to hold a long conversation. I just wanted to be back at my desk so the day would hurry up and end and I could head home.

He held the open the door to the small, quiet restaurant, bowing ridiculously low and gesturing for me to enter first. I felt a genuine smile grace my lips as I walked in, patting his head gently as I passed him. I rushed over to the corner booth, hoping to stay away from the rest of the customers and have some quiet time.

Emmett was in a talkative mood today, though. It looked like it was going to be one of those days.

It was strange; I hadn't seen Emmett this energetic in a long, long time. He was joking and trying to get me to laugh. He was acting like the goofball I'd known since I was a kid. It was nice and familiar, but it wasn't enough to pull me out of that dark hole I'd made my home in.

"So how was your weekend, Bells?" He asked once our pizzas arrived, delving in before the plate had actually touched the table.

I grabbed my fork, "It was-"

"-Fine," he finished for me. He smirked around his full mouth of pizza, "I'm not Jake. Don't brush me off, Belly."

Belly. I hated that nickname and he knew it. Well, I used to hate that nickname. I couldn't bring myself to feel annoyed anymore.

I sighed before putting a much too large bit of pizza in my mouth, giving myself a moment to think. I stared at Emmett shrewdly as I slowly chewed the gooey, cheesy pizza. He was different today. He was trying too hard. He was trying to make things normal again, and that definitely wasn't going to happen.

He stared back at me innocently, before grinning widely and opening his mouth and sticking out his tongue, showing me his half masticated food.

I shook my head and tried to throw my napkin at his face. It didn't make it halfway across the table.

He laughed loudly as I scowled. "C'mon Bella! What did you do this weekend?" He asked again. He was pushing.

I swallowed my food and gave in, "Nothing, Em. I stayed home and relaxed for a bit."

"You were home all weekend?"

"Yeah."

"By yourself?"

Obviously. "Yes."

"All weekend?"

"Emmett, just ask what you want to ask." I sighed.

"I called you on Saturday night," he said, suddenly serious again and staring me down.

Shit. I'd been out all Saturday night and my phone had run out of battery.

I tried to look innocent. "Really? I might have been in the shower." I stuffed another too big bite of pizza into my mouth.

"I called four times. An hour apart each time." His stare was relentless.

"I just didn't hear it."

"It went straight to voicemail."

"My phone might have turned off."

"Bella." Emmett was glaring at me now. I avoided his eyes and played with my pizza. I'd barely eaten a quarter of it.

"Bella." He said more forcefully before grabbing my chin and lifting my face to his. I stared back defiantly.

"You're not my father, Em." The words caused my throat to close up and before I knew it tears were stinging my eyes. I pushed his hand from my chin before looking down at my hands. They were shaking.

No. I wasn't going to cry. I'm NOT going to cry. I took a deep breath and felt the wonderful numbness take over me. After a few quick blinks my eyes quickly dried up and my hands remained steady. The walls were back up, just the way I liked it.

Emmett growled in annoyance, "Stop shutting me out, Bella!" He exclaimed much too loudly. Thankfully there weren't many people in the restaurant, but still.

He was agitated, running both his hands through his short black hair, aggressively scratching his scalp.

"Emmett, you need to calm down," I said in a composed, almost bored, voice.

His eyes shot to mine before he scoffed, roughly threw a 50 down on the table, and stormed out.

I rolled my eyes, shaking my head slightly before following him out. By the time I got out the door he was already halfway to the station. I followed slowly, confused but not very surprised by what had happened. We'd had fights like that before, but I didn't understand why he was so worried again. We'd reached an agreement: I'd promised to be careful, and he promised to butt out. Why was he being overprotective again?

I tried not to dwell. Knowing Emmett, he'd just corner me this afternoon and tell me what the fuck his problem is instead of waiting for me to figure it out. He was too impatient to hold a grudge.

When I finally made it back to the station Emmett and Jake were gone. The Captain said that there had been a B&E and they had gone to check it out. I settled back into my desk, glancing over quickly to Emmett's empty one right in front of me.

I loved Emmett. I really did. I didn't mean to push him away or keep him out of my life.

Well, I did mean it, but I didn't want him to be hurt over it. He had Rose and his friends and family to be with; he didn't need me to be in his life anymore.

It didn't mean love him. It didn't mean I didn't care or worry about him.

It was an hour later that Jake and Emmett returned. Jake was grumbling something about a "bunch of pussies" and someone "not knowing how to use a fucking deadbolt." Thankfully he was too frustrated to talk to anyone about it and he sat at his desk in silence, occasionally mumbling another insult under his breath.

Emmett didn't sit at his desk but walked into the Captain's office, closing the door behind him. It wasn't altogether unusual for him to chat with the Captain. The closed door had me a little worried, though.

It was around 4p.m when I trudged in to the kitchen to make myself a coffee, my feet dragging and my eyes drooping. I walked in to find Emmett standing there, not really doing anything but looking preoccupied. I walked straight passed him, ignoring him completely but knowing he was going to burst eventually. I was reaching for a mug when he spoke.

"I found a job for you."

"What?" I asked, rummaging around the cabinet for the sugar.

"I found a job for you," he repeated calmly, his voice resigned, "in the New York department. It's a step up. You'll still get to be a detective, but you'll be the go-to consultant for serial murder cases and other psychological stuff. That's what you want, isn't it?"

I turned to face him. I didn't take in anything he said. All I heard was white noise. His mouth was moving but the sounds he was making weren't registering as meaningful. I hadn't even noticed that Emmett had stopped talking until he sat down, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms and sighing loudly. He couldn't look at me.

Oh shit.

He was serious.

My brain finally caught up with my mouth, "You're firing me." It wasn't a question.

He didn't react. He didn't even look up. I didn't even know if he'd heard me. He just sat there, rubbing his face slowly. My brain went blank – it tended to do that a lot lately. Whenever I could feel emotions brewing under the surface I tended to shut my brain off before any lasting damage could be done. I didn't want to feel, I couldn't think. If I started thinking – really thinking – about what he was saying I'd lose it. This was all I had. This was everything. This was the only thing in my life. I couldn't have this taken away from me too. I couldn't. I couldn't.

Emmett finally lowered his hands and looked at me; he looked pained and anxious and just sad. And then I felt like shit because I knew what I'd been doing to him; I knew the situation I'd put him in and I 'd taken advantage of the fact that he was my best friend and that he'd defend me 'til the end of the earth and stand up for me against anyone that had the balls to talk shit about me in front of him. I knew I was slacking off and letting him and the team down, but I couldn't bring myself to care. Until now. Until I saw just how much of a toll this was taking on him. Emmett was the only person in my life that I cared about anymore, and now I was making him miserable – just as miserable as I was.

"I'm not firing you, Bells." He shook his head, trying to drive home the point. Or was he just trying to clear his thoughts? I couldn't tell. "I'm not. I would never. But you need this, Bella. You need to get as far away from this place as possible. You need to start over and find yourself again." His voice was strained as he continued; "You haven't been yourself for so long. And I want to help you so badly; I want to be there for you and find that fucking crazy kid that I know and love, but she's not here. She'll never be here again. You have to know that, B. You have to understand." He was pleaded, his eyes desperate and begging.

And I just stared at him. Numb.

"Please, Bella," he whispered. "Go to New York. You know it's what's best. I'm gonna visit you every month. I'm gonna call you every night. Nothing will have changed, I promise. The only thing is you won't be in this damn station remembering him. You'll be free, Bella."
He was right. Of course he was right. It's been eight goddamn months since I'd felt like a human being. Now, I was just an empty shell, unfeeling and unmoveable. I'd smile and nod and do my work and act all day every day, but that's it. My life had become a series of steps. Step 1. Wake up. Step 2. Pretend. Step 3. Sleep. Step 4. Repeat.

It wasn't until just now that I'd realised how selfish I'd been. I tried to cut Emmett off; I didn't want him to have to go through this with me. I thought I'd been successful – I'd turned down lunch dates so he could hang out with Rose instead, I'd cancelled movie nights so he wouldn't have to deal with me, our conversations consisted of the regular pleasantries instead of our usually jesting. I expected him to move on and realise he didn't need to be my friend anymore and that he didn't owe me anything.

I was such an asshole.

I hadn't even noticed that he'd been subtly trying to look out for me this whole time. He'd given me cases that weren't going to cause me to relive that night; he'd put his ass on the line to make sure I was comfortable and that I had enough time off to recover; he'd handled all the legal shit and kept me out of court because he knew I wouldn't be able to do it. He tried to make life as easy as possible for me and how had I repaid him? By being a fucking downer and just letting him deal with that shit himself. He deserved to be free of me. He deserved to be happy and uninhibited and just the fun guy he used to be; cracking jokes and making rude gestures and painting the nails of the assholes in the holding cells and sucking Rose's face off every time she came to visit the station. Everyone suffered because of what I'd done to Emmett. It was my fault. Again.

"What's the Captain's name?" I asked, not making eye contact but staring at a spot just above his head.

Emmett perked up immediately, "Aro. His name is Aro Volturi. He's a bit of a weird guy but he's all right. The sergeant there is Marcus Rossi. He's an old buddy; we trained together at the academy. They're looking for a qualified forensic psychologist because their old one just retired, but they also need a detective. They're a great group, you'll get along with them pretty well."

I nodded once. "Should I call him, or…?"

"No, no, I'll set up the interview. I'll get Marcus to call you." He said, almost enthusiastically.

"Ok." I turned to walk out the kitchen when his voice stopped me.

"Bella?" He called hesitantly. I couldn't remember the last time Emmett did anything hesitantly.

I didn't turn, but stopped. "Yeah?"

"I haven't given up on you. I want to help you. I want you to get better. I think this is the best way." He paused. "Psychology was your passion. You used to love solving cases and figuring people out. Remember? You're going to get to do that again. This is good. This is a good thing."

I wasn't entirely sure who he was trying to convince: me or him.

"Yeah," was all I said before rushing out. I didn't have time for this; I had apartment hunting to do.

A/N: Thanks so much for reading! The angst won't be around for too long (hopefully).
Please leave a review and let me know what you think!