Chapter 3

The five years that followed Edward and Alice's executions passed by without notice, at least by me. If it hadn't been for Carlisle's gentle reminders of needing to hunt, I'd have never moved. I maintained my perch atop one of the many bookshelves in the room Edward and I had shared.

For five years I sat motionless, leaning back against the wall, one leg dangling over the end with one pulled up to my chest, staring out the window. I knew no feeling, no sensation, no desire or need, no motivation, and no emotion, except for expectation. I sat during the day, in expectation of the sunset, and at night I sat in expectation of the sunrise.

After the second year, my family had given up on trying to get me to rejoin them and leave the bookshelf behind. Rosalie had attempted to distract me by buying a new book every time she went shopping, so one couldn't be surprised by the stacks of unread books all around the room. Emmett, true to form, tried to goad me into moving by challenging me to races, hunting contests, sparring, arm wrestling, and other feats of strength. Esme even joined me on the shelf a number of times, talking to me about what the family and the rest of the world was up to, even though I never really talked back to her. I just nodded. But after all this time, even she seemed to be losing some of her resolve.

These efforts did not go on unnoticed. I was appreciative, and occasionally spoke, but my time was mainly spent in silence.

Carlisle left me alone, which was what I preferred. There were two exceptions to this though, one being that once a month Carlisle invited Charlie up to the house for a visit. Those meetings were always difficult as I had to try my hardest not to appear catatonic. As far as Charlie understood circumstances, Edward and Alice had been killed in a car accident. The second exception to leaving me alone was Carlisle's insistence that I hunt. He was concerned that if I neglected to hunt, I might be overwhelmed by thirst and run risk of seeking out human blood. But I never experienced thirst, or even some form of relief after hunting. I only hunted to placate Carlisle.

I suspected I was overdue for a hunting trip. It had been a month and a few days since my last hunt; at least, that's what Esme said when she brought up the topic with Emmett and Rosalie. They were downstairs in the kitchen, trying to decide who would take me hunting this time. I idly hoped that they would forget. I never heard the outcome of that conversation. I'd tuned them out like so many other times beforehand.

I watched the sun disappear behind a cluster of low hanging clouds on the horizon, the sky turning golden pink. It was a rare and beautiful appearance of a picture perfect sunset in Forks. I heard the heavy, though still graceful footsteps of Emmett coming up the stairs.

"Bells?" he called hesitantly from behind the door.

"Come in," I said, sighing, tearing my eyes away from the sunset.

Emmett opened the door quietly and walked into the room and stood in front of the window. "Pretty," he commented, staring out the window.

"Yeah," I said, turning back to the sunset.

The clouds shifted, and a few stray beams of orange sunlight scattered across the sky, the landscape, and into the window. I looked over at Emmett, a few of the rays were dancing across his now sparkling skin. The image made me ache, and I looked back at the sunset, trying to ignore the memories it had evoked. Emmett glanced down, and then shrugged. We waited. A few minutes later the sun drifted below the horizon and the landscape took on light grey and lavender hues. Twilight.

Another day was over.

"You ready?" he asked warily.

"Yeah," I said, leaping down to the carpeted floor soundlessly.

"Don't sound so excited. You know if you want I could just bring you up a pile of squirrels for you to chase and drain," Emmett suggested, grinning.

"No, no. I'm good," I said, the corner of my mouth twitching upwards in a half smile. As hard as it was to express any emotion, it was even harder to ignore Emmett's attempts to gain a reaction out of me.

"I still might do it, just for the hell of it," he chuckled.

"Like I said, I'm good. Are we going?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Catch me if you can, little sister," he said, dashing out of the room. I hesitated only a moment, rolling my eyes. I'd let him have a head start.

I bounded out of the house after him. He wasn't too far ahead. As I lengthened my stride, I overtook him, and made the leap over the river.

"Bella…" Emmett called out warningly.

Had I been able to, I'd have sighed. I slowed down so he could keep up. I never "grew out" of my speed; there had only been one member of the family who had been faster. Now I was the fastest in the family, a fact that annoyed Emmett to no end. We reached the southernmost foothills of the mountains, finally stopping beneath several pines that leaned in towards one another.

Emmett took in a few deep breaths and let them out slowly, one after another.

"It's alright," he said presently.

I let go of the breath I'd been holding since we'd left the house and began to breathe normally again, taking in my surroundings. It was one of the requirements that came with hunting so rarely. Because I was the fastest, if I decided to go after a human, there was no chance anyone in the family could outrun me to prevent such a thing from happening. My hunting partner always had to insure there were no humans in the vicinity. Running while holding my breath had originally been very disorienting, but I was pretty used to it by now. In some ways it reminded me of being human.

"You thirsty for anything in particular?" Emmett asked, taking in another deep breath.

I breathed in. Deer, elk, mountain lions, a few foxes, a mountain lion (who was out, because she had cubs,) wolves towards the north, (but those didn't smell appetizing, wolves never did,) and an array of insignificant creatures like rabbits, opossums, and a fat raccoon. None of it was appealing. I sighed and searched farther ahead, the faintest musky scent of something…

I opened my eyes and saw Emmett looking longingly in the direction of the scent. Bear.

Somewhere in the woods, the fat raccoon fell out of a tree. We both turned in the direction for a moment, before I looked back at Emmett. Emmett so clearly wanted something more challenging. His eyes were restless, and his hands twitched with anticipation.

"How about I stop for some elk before you go after that bear?" I suggested weakly. I'd just assume that we make this a quick trip, two or three deer, then heading back to the house.

Emmett's eyes lit up. "You really wouldn't mind? Really? It is a bit of a run…" he said hesitantly.

"It's fine," I shrugged.

"Excellent!" Emmett said.

We took off, headed north, running side by side.

"I smelled him earlier today. I was going to go after him tonight but…" he said, trailing off.

"But you got stuck with me," I finished grimacing slightly, wrinkling my nose.

Emmett came to an abrupt halt.

I skid past him and came to a stop a few feet away.

"Bella," he said, his voice thick with guilt.

I turned away slowly.

"It's not like that," he said, his shoulders slumping slightly.

"Emmett, it is. It's exactly like that. I know I'm not the easiest person to be around. I'm lucky to have a big brother who's there for me, even when I'm at my worst."

Emmett gave me a sad smile.

"Thank you for taking me hunting, Em," I said, smiling back.

"Anytime Bells," he said.

After an awkward moment, I wagged my head in the direction of the herd of elk nearby, and he nodded. We ran towards the sounds of their stamping hooves. In no time we'd caught up to them. Emmett stopped next to a tree as I blew past him. The herd was thrown into chaos, as elk ran in terror in different directions. In the confusion I managed with little effort to take down a large buck in one swift movement, snapping its neck with a twist of my wrist. I sunk my teeth into the space between its shoulders, pulling its warm blood through my teeth. I managed to drain it relatively quickly, aware that Emmett was scrutinizing my consumption. Knowing he wouldn't allow me to stop with one, I took off after the rest of the herd that had fled through the trees. After I'd finished off another two I returned to the spot where I'd killed the buck. Emmett was still leaning against a tree, eyebrows raised, grin in place.

"Let's see your eyes," he said, his tone slightly patronizing.

I scowled at him as he peered at me.

"Butterscotch," he declared. "You're good. Still up for chasing a bear?"

"Sure."

"Let's go!" he cried, bolting.

I lagged behind, giving him his space as he hunted. My stomach felt sloshy, the occasion of being full being so rare, it left me uncomfortable.

The scent grew stronger, and soon the trail mingled with the sounds of falling paws.

Emmett made a loud, joyful, guttural sound and bounded down the path and leapt silently over tall ferns and brush. Then came the sound of the bear blundering around, struggling to defend itself. Emmett was laughing as I came through the thicket. He had his arms around the bear's stomach, throwing the bear to the ground, leaping back down on the thing and continuing to wrestle it.

I rolled my eyes. I considered telling him that it was rude (and possibly cruel in this case,) to play with his food, but I thought better of it. Just because I was removed from the pleasures of life didn't mean others had to be as well. I remembered when Edward and I had had a ball wrestling mountain lions before going in for the kill.

It had been our first trip to the foothills of Mount Rainier. Edward and I took turns chasing down mountain lions and tackling them, letting them have the advantage briefly, allowing them to pin us to the ground before flipping them over and going in for the kill. Edward never stopped being nervous. Seeing a large animal attempting to rip my throat out still left Edward shaky and looking paler than usual, despite my superior strength and agility.

I leapt up onto a branch a few feet up and continued to watch Emmett, shaking away the memory. This was not the place for thinking about such things.

When we walked into the house, it was apparent that something was wrong. Carlisle was leaning over the island, his hands gripping the counter, his face tense, staring at a newspaper clipping and what looked like a letter in front of him. Esme was looking over his shoulder, reading, a hand resting on Carlisle's shoulder, the other covering her mouth, her eyes pained.

Rosalie was standing very still next to the window, staring intently at the two of them, her face blank, her hands balled into fists.

I resisted the urge to return to my room, and stayed in the doorway.

Emmett looked back and forth between Rosalie and Esme and Carlisle, and apparently making up his mind and walking over to Rosalie. "What is it?" he asked, taking her hand in both his.

She looked up at him, and her eyes filled an unfamiliar, but unmistakable expression of devastation. "It's Jasper."