Hearing another heavy sigh come from the person across from her, Ororo cracked open one blue eye. Her student was still in the correct meditating position, but one of her elbows rested on her jean-clad knee, her chin in her hand as she gazed longingly out the window of her bedroom.

"Meadow…" Ororo sang lightly, trying to get her attention.

"Jean and Scott are outside," Meadow didn't look away, speaking in a monotone, "Jean's sitting on the edge of the fountain. You know, the angel one? She's reading…and Scott has two tennis rackets. I think he's going to try and convince her to play—she probably will."

The wind rider wiped away tears that had suddenly welled up in her eyes and struggled to keep her own powers in check, "Meadow, you need to calm down. You're projecting. Remember what we've been working on? Think of something that relaxes you and imagine pushing it out—like wind or a tidal wave. You can apply a color too, if visuals help."

Slowly, but surely, calm seeped into the room and Storm nodded in approval when Meadow inhaled and exhaled, practicing her deep breathing.

"Good," Storm praised, "Does your head hurt? Any migraines?"

"Not right now," Meadow continued to stare out the window, "It's only you here. You feel nice," she paused, "Sorry, that was a weird way to say it."

"That's quite all right, child," Ororo smiled, "I'll accept the compliment nonetheless. Now-

"I don't understand," Meadow interrupted Storm's attempts to get back to the meditation, "Why can't I go hangout with Jean and Scott? Just the other day, you took them to the mall and they go to school. Why can't I do that? Why do I have to stay inside with you or Logan or the Professor all the time?"

Storm took no offense to Meadow's harsh words, understanding the girl's frustration. Meadow had been at the Institute for two weeks, and while she had made some progress at controlling her powers, she was still deemed a danger to herself and possibly others. There were still days she screamed when the pain in her head returned and objects were broken.

Meadow, Scott, and Jean had yet to be introduced and all meals were brought to Meadow's room, but while Jean and Scott were at school, Meadow was able to roam the mansion and have her private sessions with Logan and Charles. She was to be kept away from Jean and Scott until the headaches were gone and the screaming stopped—until she didn't scratch herself or pull her hair or try to hit when her powers became overwhelming to the point where she dissociated.

"I know," Ororo said soothingly. She placed a hand on Meadow's knee, "You have to understand: Professor Xavier wants what is best for you and that includes protecting you…even if it is from yourself."

"But I'll be good!" Meadow exclaimed, finally whipping her head around to look at Storm. Her powers lashed out and she gasped when Storm clutched her chest, "Sorry, I'm sorry!"

When Meadow thought of calm, the color lavender came to mind—like the candles. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and imagined the color trickling out of her body, like Storm had instructed. Meadow's shoulders relaxed as she did so and after a moment, her eyes opened.

"There," she mumbled, "Did I do that right? Is that better?"

"Yes, child, that's wonderful," Ororo said in the same soothing voice, "You're a very good girl. It's not about being good or bad, you see. It's about your control. You wouldn't want to hurt Jean or Scott, would you?"

Meadow shook her head, "No, of course not."

Storm titled her head to the side, deciding to take a different approach, "When I'm sad or when I cry, it starts to rain."

Meadow's nose wrinkled, her eyebrows knitting together as she tried to recall what the Professor had told her about Storm's powers.

"Like…when you found me in the kitchen and I was crying?" she bit her lip, "I made you upset."

"Not on purpose," Storm assured, "But yes, like that. You see, I must keep my powers under control because allowing them to run free could cause untold damage. I could hurt those who are very dear to me. I had to learn how to suppress extreme feelings."

Meadow looked down at her hands as though that was where her powers emitted from. She curled her fingers into fists, uncurled them and flexed her fingers.

"I-it's like my empathy?" she asked, looking at Storm for a nod, "What did Professor Xavier call it? When I b-break stuff?"

"Emotional energy," Storm said, "Empathy has many branches of power, but we won't start to branch out until the branches you do have are able to be in better control."

So far, it seemed with Meadow's empathy, there was some type of emotional energy, Meadow could project, and feel or shoulder someone's emotions. Storm had no idea if the emotional energy could be shaped or manipulated; or if it was something that lashed out when Meadow was out of control. That was still to be determined.

Either way, her powers were very extreme—way more than just making someone feel sad or happy and it was fortunate that they had gotten to her first, before Magneto. Storm visibly shuddered at the thought.

Meadow's small voice brought Storm back to the present and she looked up to see that Meadow had returned her gaze to the window.

"And that's why I can't hangout with the others?" Meadow asked with a scowl, "Because I could hurt them by accident?"

"Yes…" Storm drawled out, "It's a precaution for both you and the other students. It will not be forever."

"Long enough," Meadow said under her breath, "Scott convinced Jean to play. They're leaving."

At the hundredth sad sigh Meadow let out, Storm uncrossed her legs and moved to sit on her knees. It didn't seem like they would be getting back to the meditation anytime soon.

"You know what?" she suggested, "Let's take a break from meditating. Why don't we write some letters?"

Blue eyes met blue and Meadow drew her eyebrows up, confused, "Write letters to who?"

"Jean and Scott," Storm said, "You can write them each a letter, introduce yourself and give it to me. I'll give it to them and I bet they will write you back. You three can get to know each other."

Meadow perked up at that, allowing the faintest of smiles to twitch her plump lips. Storm had started to wonder if Meadow would ever smile.

"Okay!" Meadow agreed, "Can we do it now?"

"Yes," Storm stood up and glanced around the room, "You'll stay here? You'll be all right by yourself?"

Meadow scowled again, bringing her knees up to her chest, "I'll be fine, Ms. Munroe."

"Ororo," she corrected, "Or Storm will suffice," she opened the door, "Very well. I'll be right back."

She closed the door, making sure it clicked shut before she removed her hand from the doorknob, heading towards one of the studies in search of a pen and some paper. Perhaps some envelopes too.

On her way, she spotted Logan who was coming back from the Danger Room, a bottled beer in his hand.

Logan smirked at her, "The kid wear you out already, 'Ro?"

"No," Ororo stopped walking to speak to him, "We're going to be taking a break."

"Can you afford to take a break?" Logan asked gruffly, craning his neck around to look down the hallway.

"Yes," Storm said adamantly. She shook her head, "This isolation isn't good for her, Logan. She craves companionship—friends. The poor girl is going to go stir crazy. I thought it would be a good idea for her, Jean and Scott to write letters to each other. For Meadow, this needs to be more than learning to control her powers."

She watched the Wolverine ponder her words and then he made a sound deep in his chest, grumbling irritably to himself as he fumbled around in the pocket of his jeans.

She narrowly missed catching whatever he had thrown at her and when she looked up, Logan was no longer standing in the spot he had once occupied.

She turned on her heel and saw Logan walking in the opposite direction, either towards his room or somewhere else in the large mansion.

"My cellphone," he called to her, "She can call the main phone line. That's it!"

What Logan was implying registered in Storm's mind and her pink lips pulled up in a wide and heartfelt smile. That was a better idea: Meadow could talk to Jean and Scott on the phone.

Still smiling, Storm headed back the way she came, hoping that Meadow was doing all right in the short time she had been left alone.

When she returned to Meadow's room, the thirteen-year-old was sitting on her bed hugging the teddy bear Storm had given her. By the deep furrow in her brow, Meadow looked deep in thought.

"I've broken a lot of things," Meadow announced quietly, "In the mansion…and I'm dangerous."

Still holding onto the phone, Storm went to sit on the edge of Meadow's bed, waiting for her to continue.

"Am I going to be sent away?" Meadow asked, "If I can't control my powers? If I keep…breaking things?"

Storm regarded her carefully, her eyes sweeping over Meadow's frame. The girl was unknowingly projecting her fear, but not enough to the point where Storm felt the need to bring attention to it—it wasn't stifling, yet.

As a mentor, she probably should have called Meadow out on it, then suggested meditation, but as a friend and someone who cared deeply about the troubled child, she wasn't going to do that.

"Never," Storm whispered, reaching out to intertwine their fingers, "You will not be sent away. There are methods that Professor Xavier can use to help control your powers...if it becomes necessary."

Meadow nodded slowly in understanding, "And that's not the case right now?"

"That is not the case right now," Storm confirmed, "I promise."

Meadow took another moment to digest this information and again, she nodded, her eyes falling on the device in Storm's hand. She pointed to it, "What's that?"

Storm held out her arm and she watched as Meadow began to hesitantly scoot closer, allowing Storm to wrap an arm around her shoulders, trying to get as close as possible.

Briefly, Storm wondered what Meadow's home life had been like. There were no signs of physical or emotional abuse, but Storm had been informed that there had been some kind of neglect and she had been there before the Swan's memories had been erased.

"Why are you sad?"

Ororo looked down to see Meadow looking at her, a frown on her face. However, she smiled reassuringly and shook her head.

"Simply thinking," she said, "Here, look. Logan gave me his cellphone and…"

Storm shook herself out of the memory, coming back to the present. She looked around her greenhouse, dressed in her civilian clothes. She raised her arms high above her head, a cloudy white fog forming over her bright eyes.

A light rain came down inside the greenhouse, efficiently watering all of the plants and flowers she collected.

With her plants taken care of, Storm came back to herself and exhaled softly, eyes sweeping her own sanctuary before she took her leave, stopping as she came to the entrance. A pink flower wilted in its pot and she held out a hand, shining sunshine. She smiled when the plant came back to life, looking as perky and healthy as ever.

Satisfied, she left to go inside the mansion, her open-toed sandals clicking against the smooth concrete. It was sunny out, as is usually was, and a cup of iced coffee sounded nice. She tried to recall if she had previously refrigerated some during breakfast or if Rogue had consumed the last of it as she usually did.

"Lookout, Storm!" Kitty was rushing down the main flight of stairs and phased through the woman, stopping to turn and smile apologetically when she gasped loudly, "Whoa. Like, my bad."

Storm laughed, having easily recovered, "What's the rush, Kitty?"

"Like, shoe sale at the mall," Kitty grinned, "Buy one pair get another half off! Jean has to get a new pair of slacks and, like, totally said I could get a ride! Gotta hurry!"

Bamf!

"Vait for me, Kätzchen!" Kurt appeared in a puff of dark smoke, quickly turning on his image inducer, "Hey, Storm!" he greeted, 'porting away a second later.

Storm wafted away the smoke with her hand, nose wrinkling at the thick scent of brimstone. She continued on to the kitchen, pushing open the door.

"Evan," she greeted, surprised to see her nephew at the table, munching on a bagel, "You're not joining the others? They're going to the mall."

"Hey, Auntie O," Evan smiled at her and lifted his right arm, showing her his skateboard, "I'm going boarding with some guys from school and don't worry," he rolled his eyes, already suspecting what she was going to say, "I'll wear my protective gear."

"Good," Storm nodded in approval and she lifted an eyebrow, "And who exactly are these 'guys from school'? I can assume they're not from math class?"

"Nope," Evan popped the 'p', his gaze focused on the black and white tiled floor, "We just chill sometimes, but I'll be back in time for dinner. No sweat, right?"

"No powers," Storm warned seriously, "I mean it, Evan."

"Yeah, yeah," Evan waved off the warning, but at his aunt's stern look, he sighed and rolled his eyes again, "Okay, no powers, got it. See ya'."

"Goodbye," Storm said, amused, "Be good, young man."

"Ugh!" Evan groaned, the door swinging shut behind him, "Oh, hey, Prof. See ya' later."

"Goodbye, Evan," Xavier came into the kitchen, his dark eyes sparkling with fondness, "Ahh, Storm. They're all growing up so fast."

"Aren't they?" Storm asked, pulling down two mugs, "Coffee?"

"Please," Xavier pulled into a spot at the table, resting his arms on the surface. He watched Storm move fluidly through the kitchen and couldn't help but notice the flicker of sadness in her eyes.

"Ororo, is there something troubling you?" he asked, not wanting to invade her mind.

Storm poured two cups of cold coffee, adding ice, sugar and cream to her own. She brought the mugs over to the table and took a seat, pushing Charles' mug towards him. She took a sip of her drink.

"I'm not sure," she watched the ice bob up and down in her cup, "I was reminiscing earlier. It's…very quiet without Doe here."

Charles nodded, taking a sip from his own mug. He wondered if Storm had the same concerns that he had. He doubted it as he hoped that his own concerns were simply him being overprotective of his students. He had faith in them and while he did his best to guide them on the right path, he had to accept that they were getting older and would one day, make their own decisions.

Whatever decisions they made, he still hoped that they would reach out to him and the rest of the staff at the Institute if they needed help.

"Logan has been speaking of paying Meadow a visit," he informed Ororo, "However, I told him to hold off and give Meadow some more time to get adjusted."

Storm pressed her tongue to the inside of her cheek, "…We shouldn't have allowed her to go," she said quietly, "We should have fought for her to stay."

"I…" Xavier stopped, his eyes going to the closed kitchen door, "Rogue," he called, "You may come in if you'd like."

Rogue entered the kitchen, arms folded across her chest and head held high. She looked between the two adults, eyes narrowed.

"Is Doe in some kahnd of danger or somethin'?" she demanded, expecting an answer.

Xavier made sure to tread carefully when he answered, meeting eyes with Storm before they fell on Rogue's guarded green orbs.

"Is there a reason you suspect that she is in danger?" he asked, gesturing for her to sit.

Rogue remained standing and glared. She shrugged her shoulders, looking anywhere else, but at the faculty members.

"Ah don't know," she answered truthfully, "Ah know about the text messages."

Storm took in Rogue's tenser than normal stance and just as she got up to approach the teenager, the phone rang. She turned and went to fetch the home phone, pressing it to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Storm!" the voice cried at the other end, sounding weak and relieved, "Thank God, it's you. Is the Professor there?"

Storm's eyes widened slightly and she moved the phone so that the earpiece was against her chest.

"It's Doe."


Bruises.

Ugly, dark purple bruises splotched the inside of Meadow's arms. A couple on her forearm and one directly in the crook of her elbow. They were each about the size of a fifty cent piece. She pulled down the sleeves of her long-sleeved shirt and leather jacket unable to look at them any longer.

Where had they come from? The cat? She always woke up to it kneading her, demanding attention or wanting to play and the cat's claws had previously broken her skin.

The pet in question was curled in a ball in the middle of Meadow's bed, her eyes shut and a paw over her face.

Could they be from exercising? Meadow pulled her sleeves up again and pulled her pants down a bit to examine her thighs. She couldn't see bruises anywhere else.

"I don't understand," she whispered, fixing her clothing. She was used to bruises, scars too, but they were always due to her having sparred the day before or some kind of mission or DR session. Yes, sometimes the bruises would take time to show up, but Meadow hadn't done much since coming to Forks. She hadn't even found a good place to skateboard.

She poked at one of the bruises through her clothing. It throbbed, but wasn't too painful. Luckily, she was in place where it rained all the damn time. All Meadow wore since arriving were long-sleeves and her leather jacket.

When she yawned widely, the bruises forgotten for a moment as she rubbed the nonexistent sleep out her eyes, eyeing the cat on her bed with envy.

Meadow had gone into Charlie's drawer and swiped some of his melatonin. She had taken two—it had put her to sleep, but she had tossed and turned, having to change her pajama shirt in the middle of the night when she woke up from a dreamless sleep, drenched in sweat.

Sighing heavily and checking her reflection in a small compact mirror, Meadow turned to look out the bedroom window. It was overcast, but not raining and if she could find a place where the trees provided enough coverage and it wasn't too rainy, maybe she could meditate outside and get some actual peace. Away from Bella's stalker-possibly-mutant friends.

She grabbed her school bag and emptied it of all contents, beginning to pack up all of her candles. She pocketed her lighter and packed Rogue's, now her copy of 'Dracula'. For whatever reason, if she was unable to meditate, she could always read.

Sadistic.

Meadow halted in the motion of zipping up her backpack and turned around in a full circle, her heart stuttering in her chest. Just as soon as the emotion hit her, it was gone. Though fleeting, it left a chill throughout her body and she shuddered, wondering if she was going to be sick. She reached out with her own emotions, trying to find a signature or some kind of remnant.

Emotions ripped through her—hitting her from all over the place; Meadow unable to tell where they were even coming from. They certainly weren't hers. They all began to blur together, her failing to filter them out. She felt panic seep into her very bones and a headache pulsed dangerously behind her eyes, the pounding in her head bringing her to her knees, her hands clutching her head.

She heard the unnamed cat howl in discomfort, but Meadow couldn't find the words to soothe her as she struggled to breathe, the pain in her head causing tears to well up. Something in her room broke and the light above her exploded, showering her hunched over form in glass.

"Oh, Empath," the dark voice—from somewhere, crooned to her, faking concern, "Let your power have you, let it take you. Why fight, when you can embrace and become so much more? You can rule, you can dominate. We can help you."

"I-I…don't need…y-you're help!" she hissed, spit flying as she forced out the words.

The cat's howling became louder as Meadow's anxiety and fear increased as well as the pain in her head. She opened her mouth to scream—much like she had done when she was a child, when there was a knock at her door.

The simple sound gave Meadow a small window to come back to herself. It was painful, but she forced in a lungful of air and tried to reign in her powers. Slowly, the pain in her head lessened until it was dull ache and after a moment, she straightened up from her crouched position, her whole frame shaking.

Her breathing was heavy and she wiped away tears that had spilled over, then wiped her hands on her pants.

"Meadow!?"

Another knock at her door and a call of her name, both more frantic and Meadow was glad that she started to keep her door locked when she was in her room.

"H-hold…o-on," she choked out, hoping that whoever was behind her door could hear her. She didn't want anyone attempting to break her door down. She'd be pissed.

With effort, Meadow lifted her head and saw all the glass that littered her floor. Turns out, it was her bedside lamp that had exploded and her alarm clock continuously flashed 12:00. It had short-circuited.

Expertly, she pushed herself to her feet, managing to catch herself on her bed when she stumbled, too weak to stand.

It had been awhile since she had that type of a migraine and she forgot how winded they often left her.

And the voice in her mind. She was sure that it wasn't her own thoughts, she could now admit that. Not only was the voice too dark, but it had been a male's voice with some type of accent. Not a single feminine note laced it and last time Meadow had checked, she was definitely a female.

It had said "we". Who was we? We what? She didn't need that type of help, she had help…

She needed to call the Professor ASAP and in order to do that, she needed to get out of the house and away from listening ears.

Taking a few minutes to steady her breathing and stay conscious, Meadow slowly pushed herself up to a sitting position, then stood. The glass crunched under her converse and she stumbled over to her bedroom door, grabbing onto her dresser at the last second to steady herself when she felt dizzy. Whoever had knocked on her door, was still there.

With sweat-slicked fingers, she fumbled to turned the lock and threw open her door.

"What!?" she demanded, voice coming out harsher than intended.

Jasper's eyes were wide, completely appalled as he looked Meadow up and down. She looked…she looked awful. Her skin closely resembled his own shade, the dark bags under her eyes standing out. A light sheen of sweat was on her forehead, a few wisps of her curly hair stuck to it. Her breathing was forced and he could see her trembling with the effort it took to stand.

It was then that he noticed the glass littering her floor and he gestured to it, trying to hide his worry and knowing how much she hated to be fussed over.

"Doing some redecorating?" he asked.

Meadow glanced behind her and stepped to the right, obscuring his view.

"Yeah," she muttered, stepping out of her room and making Jasper step back so that she could close her door, "What are you doing?"

Jasper's hands hovered in case Meadow fell or staggered, "I came here with Alice and Edward, today," when Meadow rolled her eyes, he paused, "I was eating downstairs when I heard something break and your cat…"

Meadow molded her hand to her forehead, still a bit out of it. She closed her eyes. The cat. Meadow needed to feed her and get her water. She groaned, already overwhelmed by the day and it was only half over.

"Dammit," she breathed, "I have to feed her."

"Why don't you let me do it?" Jasper offered, eyeing her trembling form, "You look…"

Meadow's lips twitched slightly when he trailed off, "Terrible, I know. I've got it, thanks."

Obsession.

Meadow shuddered when the emotion hit her. That was unquestionably Bella and Edward.

"And they can't stand you, can they?" the dark voice chimed in.

"Stop it," Meadow hissed.

"Stop what?" Jasper frowned, "Are you okay?"

"Peachy!" Meadow snapped, "Leave me alone, I have stuff to do!"

"Meadow, please," Jasper begged, catching her wrist, "Let me help. You look like you could use it."

The softness of his voice stopped Meadow short and instead of wrenching away from him, she wilted under his touch. He had already seen her in a vulnerable state, having practically babysat her when she had fainted and she supposed she didn't mind his company. She…tolerated him a lot more than the others.

"Fine, whatever. Do what you want," she mumbled, "But don't let anyone else in my room and trust me, Jasper, I'll know if you do," she fixed him with her piercing blue eyes, "Do you understand me?"

Jasper tipped an imaginary hat, "Yes, ma'am," he said, accent thick.

"Wonderful," she chimed sarcastically. She rubbed her temple, the headache still there, "I have to go."

She ignored the fact that Jasper stayed close to her as she went downstairs and into the kitchen where, no freakin' surprise—Alice and Edward sat with Bella.

Meadow was amazed that they weren't spoon-feeding her or chewing her food.

"Meadow, are you okay?" Alice asked, standing up from the table, "We heard some noises upstairs."

'Nice, nice, nice,' she chanted in her head, 'Possibly mutants, remember?'

"I broke my lamp," Meadow supplied shortly. She spared Bella a glance, hostility in her voice, "I'm going out, if Charlie comes home before I get back."

"Do you want to take my truck?" Bella asked. She glared at the boot encasing one of her legs, "Not like I can drive it."

"I'm going out, if Charlie comes home before I get back," Meadow repeated icily, rolling her eyes when Bella flinched, "Christ, I feel like a parrot."

Edward frowned at Meadow, clearly unhappy with the way she spoke to his precious Bella.

"She's trying to help," he defended, "Are you sure you wouldn't like to take a seat?" he asked, no doubt failing to miss her sickly appearance, "You don't look well. I can make you something, if you'd like."

"And do what to it?" she snapped, her lingering headache only making her more agitated.

She stormed out of the house, slamming the door for good measure. It wasn't quite the dramatic exit she was looking for as she knew she wasn't walking straight, possibly on the verge of possibly losing consciousness.

There were times when she worked her gift too hard and got mentally exhausted. Especially, when she had her tantrums or shouldered someone's emotions for too long. But this was neither of those situations.

She felt like garbage and it wasn't just the headaches or the voices. It was that slow, sluggish feeling that someone got right before they got sick with a cold.

Meadow walked down the road, cautiously looking behind her every few moments to make sure that she wasn't being followed.

She needed to get far and had changed her mind about walking the trails in the forest that seemed to surround Forks. She wanted to be miles away from the house knowing that the Cullens were there. What if they could hear her with whatever powers they had? Perhaps they were like Logan.

The Cullens'…unhumaness only added to her dislike for Bella. The other brunette seemed to accept the Cullens with no problem. Her obsession with Edward made that clear. True, at the time of Meadow's revelation they had been younger, but still…they had been family and they had turned on her because she had an extra gene.

"Meadow Swan, do my old eyes deceive me?"

The deep and cheerful voice caused Meadow to stop short and she turned to see a black weathered Ford crawling along at a snails pace. Leaning out the rolled down passenger window was a heavyset man with a deeply wrinkled face, black eyes and dark russet skin. He was smiling.

"Billy Black, right?" Meadow asked, surprised that someone had known it was her.

'That gives Billy points in my book,' she thought.

Billy's emotions were kind and warm, but there was also some wariness and Meadow noticed that his dark eyes continuously scanned his surroundings and despite the wide smile on his face, his eyes looked mistrustful.

"That's my name," Billy chuckled a deep sound, "It's lovely to see you! Charlie hasn't shut up about you since you've moved down here. You remember my boy, Jacob, don't you?"

Billy leaned back against the seat, giving Meadow a look at the boy who looked way too young to be driving. Jacob looked fourteen maybe fifteen, and had long, glossy black hair pulled back with a rubber band at the nape of his neck. His skin was beautiful, silky and russet-colored; his eyes were dark, set deep above the high planes of his cheekbones. There was still a hint of childish roundness left around his chin.

His emotions matched his appearance: Shy, confused, friendly and a bit of irritation and exhaustion as he watched his father take in his environment once more.

Jacob raised a hand in greeting, smiling, "Hey, Meadow. Long time no see."

"Hey," Meadow echoed, returning the smile, "Yeah, it's been a really long time."

"We'll need to catch up," Billy prompted. He eyed her a little skeptically, "Now, where are you heading? You look a little lost."

"Just taking a walk," Meadow told him, looking behind her, "Bella has some…friends over."

Billy's eyes seemed to brighten at the way Meadow said the word 'friends' and he nodded.

"Friends?" he questioned, curiosity peaked.

Before Meadow could reply, Jacob leaned over, his eyes wide.

"Hey, how is Bella?" he asked, sounding desperate—his emotions vouched for his tone, "Is she feeling any better since her accident?"

"Hah!" Billy snorted and Jacob promptly ignored this, his eyes pleading with Meadow to answer his question.

Meadow's eyes, however, were on Billy. The man's emotions has changed drastically. He was angry and going deeper, he was hostile…enraged. Worried, fearful, disbelief…disgusted.

Jacob followed Meadow's eyes and he rolled his eyes dramatically, "Dad, please…" he begged. He lowered his voice, but not by much, "I passed on your dumb message. Will you leave it alone? Bella doesn't like it."

"Bella doesn't like it," Billy repeated bitterly, shaking his head.

"Um, Bella's fine," Meadow said, pretending she hadn't heard. She pressed her lips together, "A few of the Cullens are at the house with her. Did you want to stop by? A little more company never killed anyone," she smiled sweetly, projecting innocence and care.

Like she predicted at the mention of the Cullens, Billy's emotions increased tenfold and that was the only reaction Meadow needed.

'Turn it up a notch, Doe,' she thought. She was so close.

"They seem nice," she went on, "They've been taking really good care of Bella and Alice invited me to go shopping with her."

"Meadow…" Billy's voice was solemn and grave, but he paused, giving a brief shake of his head, "Would you like to come over?" his tone was gentle, "Or maybe we could give you a ride somewhere?"

"That would be nice, thank you," Meadow accepted the offer, "I'll admit…I was trying to get away from the house."

She said this in a voice only Billy could hear and she held his eyes for as long as she could, the eye contact only breaking when she got in the car, careful of the wheelchair taking up most of the space. The car smelled faintly of tobacco and peppermint.

Billy knew something about the Cullens, that was clear and he didn't like it. Did that mean Billy knew about mutants? Even if he did, Meadow would have to really think before she spoke. She wouldn't reveal herself. She couldn't.

"So," she started, projecting happiness and relaxation, "Don't you have twin girls, Billy? How are they?"

Meadow did her best to pay attention as Billy prattled on about his daughters. Apparently, Rebecca and Rachel had both moved out of La Push—Rachel on a scholarship from Washington State University in Pullman to study computer engineering and Rebecca having gotten married to some kind of Hawaiian surfer right after turning eighteen.

Meadow's eyes softened at Billy's new emotions, the pain fresh in his voice, though it was covered well. Loss and sadness.

She wondered if it had been too much for the twins. Meadow remembered Sarah Black, the woman having died a couple years before she left for the institute. Sarah had died in a car accident and Charlie had called to tell his daughters about the sad news.

Neither she nor Bella had gone down for the funeral, but had told Charlie to pass on their condolences.

'It must have been painful,' Meadow thought, 'For them to stay on the Reservation.'

While she knew she would, Meadow couldn't imagine how hard and ultimately devastating it would be to stay in New York if something ever happened to Storm, her mother…figure! Yeah, mother figure.

She was already on internal thin ice when she had almost called Logan 'dad' that day in the cafeteria. How odd would it be if she called Storm 'mom'? Especially since Evan was her nephew. Calling Storm mom didn't seem like it would suffice. Mother figure would do. At least, Meadow hoped it would. She had never spoken to Storm about it…

"Deep in thought, there?"

Billy's deep and hearty chuckle lifted Meadow from her thoughts and she looked up to see his eyes staring at her from the rear view mirror, crinkled with delight.

"What did you say?" she asked.

"We're here, Space Case," Jacob joked, climbing out of the car, "I'll get your chair, dad."

"Need help with anything?" Meadow asked while she unbuckled her seat belt.

"Nah," Jacob declined, "I've got it. Though, you might want to ask him," he grinned at his father, "Old man doesn't kick like he used to."

"You'll regret those words, Son," Billy grinned, eyes gleaming, "I might accidentally roll over your foot. You know, break a few toes."

Jacob winced, "Ouch."

Meadow was entertained by the father and son banter and she got out of the car, waiting politely for the other two.

The Blacks' house looked vaguely familiar, a small wooden place with narrow windows, the dull red paint making it resemble a tiny barn.

"I'm looking forward to catching up, Meadow," Billy said eagerly, "How's school going?"

Meadow quickened her step to fall in line with the chair Jacob pushed, "It's fine," she said colloquially, "I'm thinking of trying out for soccer," that wasn't quite true, but it kept the conversation going.

"Really?" Billy's eyes brightened, "That's wonderful! You know, a bunch of the kids here often play soccer on the beach. You should join them. It's all in good fun."

"I might do that. There's a beach near here?" Meadow craned her neck as she walked, as if she could see the beach, "That sounds nice."

"It is, it is," Billy said absently, "Sometimes, the kids from Forks will come down and…what's that saying, Jake?" he looked at his son, "Catch some waves?"

"Ugh!" Jacob groaned in disgust, pushing open the creaking door, "Dad!"

Billy chortled, wheeling himself into the tiny square living room. When he got close enough, he expertly maneuvered himself out of his chair and onto the old couch that was no bigger than a love seat.

"Would you like anything to drink?" Billy offered, "It's mighty cold outside. Tea or coffee?"

Meadow shook her head and joined him on the couch, sitting on the furthest cushion, "No thank you."

Jacob returned from where he had disappeared down the tiny hallway off the front room, a rusted toolbox in his hands, "Dad, I'll be in the garage. It was nice seeing you, Meadow."

"You too," Meadow replied.

Billy waved him off, "I'll holler if I need you."

Jacob left. Meadow and Billy were now alone in the house, surrounded by a tense silence.

"It's good to see you back here," Billy said sincerely, "I was starting to think you were never going to come back."

"I wasn't planning on it," Meadow told him, "It was quite the shock."

Billy nodded, fiddling with the remote, "I bet a lot of things have come as a shock to you since you've been back."

There it was.

"Yes," Meadow made sure to tread slowly, carefully, "I would have come to visit you sooner, but I've actually been sick," she threw caution to the wind, "Dr. Cullen looked me over."

Surprisingly, Billy laughed, shaking his head before he exhaled a long and amused sigh.

"Ahh, Meadow," he breathed, squeezing her shoulder, "You're a very smart girl. Witty," his smile fell from his face, "While you're here—in Forks, I want you to be safe. There's not much I can say, but…be careful. I've taken Bella's 'accident' very seriously and we'll be watching to ensure it doesn't happen again."

"Okay," Meadow said, her voice merely a whisper. She understood, "I'm disappointed with how this turned out."

Billy laughed again, "Yes, I thought you might be, but as I said before: you're a smart girl and if you'd like privacy, then go to the beach…First Beach. That's all I'll say."

"Thank you," Meadow said, "Very much. Is the beach within walking distance?"

"Driving is preferable," Billy told her, "But I suppose walking would work."

"I could use the exercise," Meadow stood up and leaned down to give him a hug, "Thank you."

"Of course," Billy promised, "Keep an eye out."

Of course," Meadow repeated his words, "You too."

She bid him another kind farewell and left the house, calling a goodbye to Jacob before she broke out into a run, heading for First Beach.