'15 Step'

Disclaimer: In its use of intellectual property and characters belonging to Stephenie Meyer, David Slayde, Wyck Godfrey, Greg Mooridian, Mark Morgan, Melissa Rosenberg, Summit Entertainment, Imprint Entertainment, Temple Hill Productions, Goldcrest Films, Maverick Films, Twilight Productions et cetera, this work is intended to be transformative commentary on the original. No profit is being made from this work. Any similarities to other fanfiction stories are completely coincidental.

A/N: Alright, so as I go I've been making some edits, and I've changed the dates on my timeline once more. Eclipse seems to happen in the warmer months of the year (besides the mountain shots) as everyone wears light jackets and nothing heavy, so I've made the death of Sally in March to give Tehya the month of April to settle into La Push before the story starts in May-ish. Also edited the first chapter a bit, not that many will go back and check (there are small differences). Enjoy!

You used to be alright,
What happened?
Did the cat get your tongue?
Did your string come undone?
One by one?

-Radiohead, '15 Step'

I had forgotten that Forks was just as rainy as Vancouver.

We reached the reservation several hours later and had emerged out of the taxi only to find more storm clouds gathering above our heads. It was going to rain soon; I could smell it in the air. Several things captured my attention besides that, however, such as the uneven units of houses that I had once been familiar with. I could spot the outline of the Tribal School, faint in the mist, where I would undoubtedly be attending school whenever I was 'ready'. At least, that was how my father had stated it. Billy Black, one of my father's fellow council members, had made the arrangements.

Speaking of the devil, I heard the man before I saw him.

Billy's wheelchair squeaked slightly as it rolled up the pavement road to my new home. We were living relatively close to the center of the reserve, which unnerved me a bit more as I was aware that this meant it would place me in close proximity to much more of the tribal population. I knew nearly everyone, which made me less nervous, but I had forgotten that my father's house was placed in the general middle of the reservation.

"Tehya Bryant," Billy Black gave me a soft smile, and I held back a flinch. When I had moved away I had been used to hearing my mother's maiden name after my own, but now I supposed that I was going to have to begin using it as a middle name as opposed to my father's. "We've missed you. Welcome home."

"Billy," I recovered from my partial discomfort and leant down to envelope the man in a large hug. "It's nice to see you again."

"I'm sorry for your loss," He rumbled into the gesture, and I found myself immediately shutting down mentally at the mention of my mother. "We all are."

I couldn't really respond to his remark, so I simply stayed silent. I didn't want to confront any more emotions than I already had, and it didn't look like Billy had much else to say on the matter. He and my father nodded towards each other quickly, before both of them proceeded into the house in front of me. I hadn't noticed minutes earlier, but the house now had a built in ramp leading up to the door.

I couldn't help but smile slightly at this obvious gesture of kindness from my father to his old friend. Billy's wheelchair had disabled him in more ways than one, as he had been forced to give up his job as a fisherman when he had lost the ability to walk. He was still raring to go, however, as my father had put it on the phone. I could see that now. He was one of the elder council members alongside my father and they both helped make decisions for the reservation that affected day to day life here. It was strange thinking that I was going to become a part of that life again.

"Not sure if he's told ya," Billy turned to me as soon as we reached the kitchen area, motioning to my father. "But we've had a death of our own here."

I looked towards my father for confirmation, who nodded gravely. I frowned lightly, trying to puzzle why he wouldn't have notified me of this, before concluding that he likely hadn't wanted to upset me further after learning about my mother.

"Harry Clearwater," Billy revealed, and eyed me carefully. "Sue's been a rock, but...Seth and Leah took it pretty hard."

Oh.

I had remembered both Clearwater kids from when I was little, Leah being the more stubborn of the two, but I wouldn't have imagined anything like this happening. They were in the opposite situation as me, except at the very least they had each other to grieve. They were two young souls without a father figure. I empathized with them, relieved that I was still capable of retaining that ability. I thought of poor innocent Seth and how heartbroken he must have been, and how angry Leah most likely was.

"I'm sorry to hear that," I swallowed loudly, still feeling like there was a giant wad of cotton stuck in my throat. "He was a good man."

The two men in the room nodded in agreement, and shared a grave glance that I believed they hadn't noticed me observe. Something crossed with concern and impending doom – as dramatic as that sounded – crossed both of their faces before vanishing, automatically leading me to assume that there was something more to his death; something they weren't going to tell me.

"We've been upping security around here," Billy continued, steeling me with his hard gaze once more. "There's been a lot more bears than usual as of the last couple years."

"Bears?" I found myself asking as my curiosity won over, despite my lack of desire to speak. "Really?"

"Not too much of a concern," My dad quickly waved a hand, and again I caught a flash of what seemed to be worry in his eyes. Perhaps it was my mother's psychological background, or the fact that she had shared some of her analytical strategies with me many times, but I knew that there was something off.

"Thirsty? Hungry?" My father asked the both of us seconds later, humbly moving towards the fridge instead of going to unpack his small bag. His eyes shifted back and forth between Billy and I, but I knew that he was already aware of my response.

"No thanks." I shook my head and politely excused myself, dragging my heavy suitcase along with me along to my room – or at least where I remembered it to be. I doubted anything had changed.

"Just a heads up," My father called out before I entered the closed room. "I cleaned a bit...and replaced some stuff."

I didn't bother asking what, and only nodded before swinging the door open to reveal a very surprisingly tidy room. It didn't look like what I had remembered it to look like when I was six years old; the light pink sheets had been replaced by dark blue ones, any princesses and dolls had been most likely placed in the box labeled 'old toys', and everything was surprisingly neat and organized. The only things left hanging were my large dream catcher, pictures of me when I was little, and a frame with my mother, father and I on the desk. What seemed to be a fresh sketchbook with sets of markers and pens was also sitting on the desk, crisp and ready for my touch. I felt a tiny twinge of comfort at this, not only because drawing seemed to be the only outlet I had but because my father had remembered this.

I stood for a moment in the doorway taking it all in, before heaving my luggage through the door and setting it down as gently as I could.

This was weird.

I made sure to flip the picture of my mother, father and I face down, the image of her face searing in my mind and causing a momentary burst of pain. Then the overwhelming numbness set in once more, pushing my mood down to an all time low as I realized I couldn't even cry. How pathetic.

I tried to distract myself, beginning to unpack my clothing so that I could fold the clean into the emptied out dresser and the dirty into the hamper. It took me about half an hour to get through my clothing, and another half an hour to organize whatever else was left in my suitcase. All in all I had only killed an hour. Great.

I tried to make my way back into the kitchen to try and get a glass of water, but upon overhearing a sensitive conversation occurring in said part of the house I abruptly stopped and tried to listen. The house was only one floor, which made sneaking around a bit easier since there were no creaky stairs, but the floors still made noises and I had to be careful.

"I don't want to leave her alone, Billy." I overheard my father speaking to the black haired man, obvious worry coating his tone. "She's in shock – she doesn't sleep properly, doesn't eat, doesn't talk. I don't know what to do with her."

"She's home now," Billy replied steadily. "And there are people here to help you both through this."

"I hadn't seen either of 'em in ten years," My father sighed heavily. "I didn't know the cancer was that bad. When Tehya told me she'd gone into the terminal ward I..."

They were both silent for a moment, and I heard a rustle. I assumed it was Billy placing a hand on my father to try and comfort him. I didn't know how to feel about the conversation having taken place; I felt like a burden all of a sudden, even though my father had made it clear that we were on the same team. I didn't want everyone to worry about me – I didn't want attention. I wanted to forget completely.

"How about you two come with me over to Emily's on Thursday for dinner," Billy distracted me by speaking these next few words, and I quickly tuned in to their conversation again. "she can get reacquainted with everyone, maybe Emily'll take her under her wing."

I didn't hear my father's response, but I heard Billy's grunt of approval before he convinced my father to drink a few beers and watch the game with him. This allowed me a couple minutes to slip back into my room quietly before either of them noticed that I had been eavesdropping, and I shut my door as I heard them move into the living room. Deciding to occupy myself with changing myself out of the clothing I had worn on the way here, I took the opportunity to think about what had been said about me.

Moving to La Push had been a decision that I had been forced to make. I could not have stood a life alone back in Vancouver, and knew that this was the right choice for me to make despite it being the only choice, but I hadn't wanted to come back to a reserve full of people whose only focus was going to be to care for me like a wounded animal. I wasn't sick, I wasn't in grief, I didn't consider myself in shock. I just wanted to be left alone. Was that so much to ask?

I quickly grabbed my new sketchbook and the first pen I could lay my fingers on as soon as I had changed into a pair of sweatpants. I tied my long black hair into whatever awful excuse for a ponytail I could muster, and began to sketch furiously. I drew anything I could think of or depict; without spending a millisecond of a thought on each idea. Drawing was liberating for me in the sense that I didn't have to share it with anyone and could create whatever I wanted to. My artwork was private and intimate; something that I used as a very important tool to express myself. It wasn't something that everyone needed to look at, which caused me to put a lot of trust and faith into art.

As I sketched, I further continued to debate inside my head and tried to think of what my father had reacted like the night I informed him that I was leaving to go to the terminal ward with mom in the morning. He must have been devastated, knowing that his ex-wife – who I was fairly certain he had been attached to right up to her death – was going to die in a short manner of time. I hadn't been thinking about who else her death had affected but me, as I had been the only one with her when it had happened. I had felt so alone, but I hadn't considered the possibility that my father also felt the same way.

I looked up suddenly and found myself in the direct eye of sight of my mother's ash container, fit for travel and ready to be transported to the nearest overlook so that I could scatter her into the Pacific. It was extremely disturbing, knowing that the main guiding light in my life was now stuffed into this small container and ready to be thrown into the sea forever. I didn't like it.

I didn't like it sitting in my room as if it was waiting for something. I didn't like it facing me expectantly. I didn't like knowing that it was my mother's charred remains in there. I didn't like thinking of when I was going to have to scatter it. I didn't want to, but at the same time I wanted to throw myself out the door right then and there and sprint to La Push beach so that I could get rid of her memory.

I wasted two hours trying to decide what to do, and another two drawing some more while I again tried to decide what to do.

Before I knew it it was one in the morning, and there was a soft knock on my door.

"Kid?" It was Billy.

"Yeah?" I called back, causing the older male to open the door.

"Your father's asleep out on the couch," He explained, jacket on and obviously ready to take his leave. "I'm headin' home. You feelin' up to seeing Jacob tomorrow? He's real excited you're back."

"Sure." I shrugged, not wanting to disappoint anyone, and figuring that the least scary of all the people here was going to be Jacob. I remembered him like a brother.

"You know," Billy spoke up again after a pregnant pause, regarding me strangely once more. "your father never really did let go of Sally."

I inhaled sharply at the name I hadn't heard since the doctor's had pronounced her time of death, now glaring towards Billy. I was surprised to see him match my expression, and remembered the reason I had respected this man so much. Billy spoke boldly, but never without good reason. Unlike my father, every single word he said held meaning and he never partook in a conversation that was not worth something.

"You need each other," He continued, unforgiving. "and whether you like to admit it, this screwed you both up. But this is a place of healing. It may be hard to open up to that at first, but you have to be open to heal."

I didn't want to admit it, but I knew he was right somewhere deep inside of me. This acknowledgment was currently in an inaccessible part of my brain, but in another separate part of my mind I knew that he was correct. I just wasn't ready to hear it; I will still in the phase of simply accepting the fact that I was going to have to complete the rest of my life without my mother in it.

"Goodnight, Billy." I politely excused him without further need for discussion, and he breathed deeply in understanding before responding to the gesture and letting himself out.

I didn't bother locking the door behind him, and spent the rest of the night sketching away with all of my might. I couldn't remember whether I slept or not, fearful of having the same nightmares that had occurred in Vancouver even with my dream catcher above my head and feeling uncomfortable in my new bed. All I knew was that when I woke up the next morning, it was nine and my father was telling me that Jacob was already in our living room.

Groggily rising from bed and squinting towards my windows that had magically produced closed blinds out of nowhere, I resolved to head to the bathroom and straighten out the bird's nest that was my hair before going to greet Jacob.

I didn't get that chance.

"Tehya!" A large mass suddenly barreled into me, blocking my way into the bathroom and lifting me into the air in an extremely warm hug.

"Jacob!?" I pulled back almost instantly to look at the huge eighteen year old in surprise. "What the- you filled out!"

"From when I was eight? Yeah." He laughed wholeheartedly as he pulled me into another hug with muscles I couldn't even believe he had grown, spinning me in a large circle before setting me down.

"You're, like, really warm," I commented, reaching for his skin and feeling the absurd temperature. "You sure you're not sick? I don't want to make you take me around if you're sick."

"It's a genetics thing," Jacob shrugged my comment off, and this calmed me enough so that I didn't feel guilty going out on a walk with him.

I was still shell-shocked at his size, and when my eyes finally took in the details of his face the first thing I noticed was that his traditional long black hair had been cut into a very short faux hawk.

"And your hair?" I reached up to touch it, then let out a grunt as I realized I wasn't nearly tall enough. Standing at 5'5 and weighing a mere hundred pounds at this point, I recognized that beside Jacob I must have looked like a small rodent. "Am I going to recognize anyone else around here?"

"Probably not," Jacob smiled once more, eyes crinkling with joy. "a lot has changed. Including you – you look...different!"

"Well," I started slipping into the bathroom and duly noting his remark about my sleepy appearance. "gimme five minutes, and my hair won't look like a rat just made a home in it."

He agreed with a soft smile, and I continued about my business. Quickly braiding my hair to the side, splashing my face with cold water and brushing my teeth, I managed to pull on jeans and a sweater all in the span of five minutes. I was out of my door and ready to step outside, eager to catch up on what had happened at the reserve. Eager for a friend, despite my opposite desire to be left alone. Eager for a distraction. And besides that fact, I was actually happy to see Jacob – which meant I was feeling something other than numb.

"Got your cell phone?" My father asked as Jacob and I made for the front door. I lifted the cellular device up in response, and waved goodbye. "No breakfast?"

"No thanks!" I called back, shaking my head and wondering when he would stop asking that question. I grabbed a bottle of water instead, and knowing that if I chose not to eat then the last I could do for my body was to keep it hydrated. "See you later, dad."

"So," Jacob started in a familiar tone as soon as I had closed the door, and my heart clenched before he even said the same words his father had told me. "I'm sorry about your mom."

I didn't reply, hoping that he would catch the hint that I didn't really want to talk about it all that much. I hadn't really had friends in Vancouver; my mother and I had spent all of our time together and had been closer than anyone else, so the need for friends never really struck me. But here, where I actually knew almost everyone on the reserve since since childhood, things were different. And I was certain that Jacob was capable of picking up on the sign that I didn't want to talk about my mother.

"Everyone's gonna be really excited you're back," Jacob quickly changed the subject, and in the place of the numbness that had settled inside of me I felt the black mass that was anxiety rise up. "and some others are excited to meet you."

"Others?" More fear and anxiety bloomed in the pit of my stomach. It partially engulfed some of the feelings that hadn't budged since the last day in the terminal ward, but did not completely extinguish them. I knew that this anxiety was coming from the fact that I was going to have to socialize and bear more stares of sympathy – I didn't know how much of that I could take.

"Well, let's see," Jacob squinted his eyes as he placed his hands in his pockets, and I listened intently. "who haven't you met...Collin? That's about it."

"Well thank God." I muttered, placing my hands in my pockets, anxiety diminishing slightly as I accepted that almost all I would be doing was reacquainting with people. "So when did Harry Clearwater pass?"

I expected a bit of silence after this question, and stared towards my feet as I waited for Jacob to respond. We hadn't decided a course for our journey, simply walking where the roads of the reservation took us. From what I could see, they were leading us down to to the beach.

"Two years ago," Jacob answered glumly, causing me to pull my head back up and look at him. "Cardiac arrest."

"Billy said Seth and Leah took it pretty hard when it happened," I decided to mention, and Jacob nodded again. "poor kids."

Again, there was that strange odd look towards me, as if to say 'that's how we all feel about you', but I was glad that he didn't voice his thoughts. I knew that this was the same way everyone felt about me, but because it was me in my own head it felt completely different. I didn't want anyone's sympathy. I didn't want their weird looks or their apologies. It was no one's fault my mother had passed and it was something that no one could have been able to prevent; the fact that people kept bringing it up made it all the more painful and I just wished it would stop.

There were several beats of silence before Jacob spoke again, both of us now appreciating the land around us. More houses had sprung up in the last ten years, but all in all the reservation was just like I had remembered it. It was a bit ridiculous to think that it was possible remembering the ways around here, but I had always had a good memory even at a young age.

"Feel like seeing the beach?" Jacob asked, and I nodded once before we simultaneously switched our road path towards La Push beach. "It's quiet today – everyone's at school or busy, so I figured it'd be a good day to bring you out."

I didn't mention that I was supposed to be in school, instead nodded along and following him down a small hill where some wood had been placed to make makeshift steps. It was then that I noticed his lack of jacket, and his short sleeves. For a chilly day in April, this outfit was a bit off.

"Aren't you cold, Jake?" I asked, eyeing his thick arms dubiously.

"I told ya," He looked back at me with a wolfish grin. "It's genetics."

"Some genetics!" I teased for what was probably the first time in months. Jacob had already put me in a better mood with one simple conversation, which was remarkable.

We stepped onto the sandy beach seconds later, beginning to make our way across the sandy stretch towards the logs that had always been scattered here. Jacob hadn't responded to my retort, and I was already distracted with the view of the beautiful Pacific ocean. The thought of my mother's ashes passed briefly in my head, but I was glad that I had not taken them with me. I wanted my father to be present when I scattered them, for one, and secondly I still wasn't sure if I was ready to part with them despite how troublesome they were sitting in my room.

"I forgot how beautiful it was here," My shoulders slumped as I acknowledged the wonder that was my reservation, proud that I belonged to the Quileute nation residing in Forks.

"I feel like I take it for granted sometimes," Jacob admitted, although it was clear that even with that comment he knew the value and the beauty of the natural world surrounding him.

We spent a bit more time on the beach, calmly chatting about how everyone was doing – most of the boys were involved in some sort of 'rebuild the community' project as well as school, besides those who had graduated. This was new information for me, and I couldn't help but crack a small smile at the idea of Paul and Sam trying to plant trees, mow lawns or garden. I wasn't sure what they were literally up to, but it was nice to know that they were doing something.

"So you and Harry are coming to dinner at Emily's tomorrow night?" Jacob asked, now busying himself with skipping stones into the ocean.

"I overheard as such," I nodded from my spot on a nearby log, remembering what Billy had told my father last night and briefly thinking about the girl who must have now been in her twenties. "How's Emily doing?"

Jacob sighed lowly before turning around and grimacing. "She was mauled by a bear about five years ago – a little bit before she started seeing Sam."

"Really?" I let my eyebrows raise at this news, which was more shocking than Harry Clearwater's death. "Poor Emily...Billy was telling me about more bears in the area than usual, but this is..."

"Bad, we know." Jacob grimaced again, this time more strangely.

Another several beats of silence passed between us. My friend approached the log I was sitting on and gave me a supportive pat on the shoulder, sending a streak of reassurance through me for a reason I wasn't aware of. Jacob's hand was warm and his presence was comforting, giving me something to cling on to amongst these bad tidings.

"We're taking care of it," He assured, and I shot him an uncertain, quizzical glance which caused him to explain himself. "we've upped our security; got some people running armed patrols at certain times of the day or night."

This set me at ease by a tiny bit, grateful that the members of our community would sacrifice their time and safety for the general populace of this reservation. These were heartwarming gestures in risky times, and I was very shocked that the simple word 'armed' could bring so much comfort. I hadn't expected to be so calmed by it.

"Jacob..." I was suddenly distracted as my eye caught something near his shoulder, and I realized that there was ink embedded into his skin. "A tattoo? When did you get that?"

"Yeah," This time Jacob only let out a sort of half smile, but in itself it seemed half-hearted. I would have expected him to be proud, but instead he seemed half regretful. I chose not to ask whether he was sorry about the life choice or not.

"Lemme see," I requested softly, not wanting to touch him without permission but curious enough to ask. "Can I?"

"It's the tribe's symbol," He explained without missing a beat, but refusing to show the whole design. Since I was familiar with the Quileute symbol, this calmed my curiosity a bit. "Some of the others have it as well."

"I remember," I mumbled, thinking back of the times in my childhood when we had gone down to the marina and seen the tattoo on several men and women. "Did it hurt?"

"Like a bitch," Jacob laughed this time around, and I found myself growing accustomed to the sound.

We spent a bit more time at the beach before revisiting the tribal school and even walked so far as to see the tribal court and the tribal council's building, where both of our fathers and other council members such as Sue Clearwater and Quil Ateara III worked. Jacob told me that we could go visit the marina another day as he didn't want to over pack my morning, and so we began the trek back to my house. We walked back up River Drive until we reached my father's, making small talk about what each of us had been up to in the last ten years.

I discovered that Jacob had recently taken to a girl named Bella, with whom there was plenty of drama with due to her boyfriend who Jacob clearly despised. He had also gotten into fixing cars and bikes in his spare time, which I was glad to hear. If he was stressed out about anything, at least he had an outlet to relieve himself with. I wasn't so glad to hear about this mystery girl and the antics that she was starting, but whatever made Jacob happy made me happy.

My father was standing on the rickety front porch when we got back.

"Nice walk, you two?" He drank out of a large mug I presumed he had made tea in, since I remembered my father was not a coffee drinker.

I thought of Billy's words to me as I looked up towards my father, and how he had told me that we needed each other not only for support but to heal successfully. It suddenly struck me that my father had jumped into action upon hearing that I was alone, and had dropped everything here to go and take care of me. When I looked at the bigger picture, our once-a-month phone calls for ten long years didn't seem so awful because my father had proved to me that when I needed him, he was there for me. All in all, my father had done what he could do without bothering my mother at all and trying his best to be there for me at the same time.

"Mhm." I yawned and nodded, just now noticing how tired I was from the lack of sleep I had been getting over the past month.

All I really wanted to do at the moment was go back to bed under my warm covers and sleep through the next couple years of my life, but I supposed I would have to settle for just a couple of hours.

"I'll let you nap," Jacob caught on fast, and I smiled in gratitude although the gesture did not reach my eyes. "I'm really glad you're back."

He took me off guard by pulling me into another hug, and I returned the action as best as I could with such a small frame. I really felt weak beneath him, although I knew that Jacob would have never viewed me in such a way. In fact, he didn't even wait for a response – he knew he didn't need one and that I wasn't comfortable giving one back to that remark – as he took his leave.

"It's nice to see you, Harry! I'll see you guys tomorrow!" Jacob waved once at my father, and bounded off of our porch before jogging into the distance. I almost shook my head, wondering how he could be so full of energy after the long walk we had shared. Perhaps it was because of my weight and muscle loss, but I was extremely exhausted and on the verge of collapse.

"He grew into a nice kid," My father closed the door behind me as we went inside, looking for my reaction. "Didn't he?"

I nodded in agreement as I shed my light jacket and took off my shoes, finally meeting my father in the eyes.

"Thanks for helping me, dad." I felt it needed to be said, and his reaction proved it worthwhile.

"Of course," My father seemed a little bit surprised at first, but then took a step forward and laid a kiss on my forehead. "I'm always here to help."

With that crucial conversation concluded, I finally made off to my room where I indulged in my desire to rest and practically face planted on my bed without changing my clothing. I let sleep and exhaustion overcome me, and quickly faded. I wasn't aware of if I moved or not, but I peacefully drifted off to the world of dreams, once again teasing me with scenes of an alive mother and a very happy, bright future with her in it.

Somewhere in the distance, miles away from my resting place, a wolf howled loud and clear.

A/N: So I know that if you read the first chapter and then this one, it may be confusing because you may not have caught the edits I made in the first chapter. I suggest that if things are not matching up go back and re-read the first chapter, it may make a bite more sense now that I have updated it!