Notes:

Time for a little wolf action, don'cha think?

Chapter 9

It was Saturday morning.

Saturday morning, Charlie thought groggily, rubbing his face with his hand as he lay in bed. So why the hell is she up at the crack of dawn?

He listened to the dulled tinkles and bangs of Esme trying to be quiet as she bustled around the kitchen.

At six AM.

Beside him, Renée was sound asleep (as she could be through the Apocalypse, Charlie often teased her) and, after peering at his wife affectionately, he decided not to wake her and face the Morning Monster alone.

He didn't really know what the etiquette was when it came to telling your grown-up little sister to get her ass back to bed so he'd have to work with what he found and, as this was Esme, he was a little worried what that might be.

"Esme, talk us through it, gal," he said as he arrived in the kitchen which was being organised - top to bottom.

"Oh, shit! Sorry, Charlie!" she said, jumping at the sound of his voice. "I didn't mean to wake you!"

"I know," he laughed. "You could have just used an air-horn for that."

Esme smiled bravely but she looked rough with angry dark circles under her eyes and bitten lips. She was fully dressed.

"Do I want to know?" Chief Swan asked as he looked around what used to be his kitchen.

"I um…couldn't sleep," Esme admitted apologetically. "I…er…I had a bad dream…came down here and then I saw the plates weren't washed and then…"

She shrugged guiltily around at the anti-mess.

And then this happened.

Charlie pursed his lips sympathetically all annoyance with his sister was dispelled immediately.

"Is it no better?" he asked. "The…anxiety, the compulsion?"

"It is," she said, but wouldn't meet his eye. "A little."

"A little?"

He sighed.

"Okay, so it's a little better," he said soothingly. "That's good. But Es, it won't get any better than that if you give in to the urge to do this…"

He gestured around the room.

"I was just cleaning…" Esme murmured quietly.

"I don't think you were, Esme," Charlie said sadly. "Not like this. And not at six in the morning."

It broke his heart to see her hang her head like that, like it was shameful, like it was her fault.

"Did…did something happen this week?" he asked more gently. "Something to…set you off again, a little?"

"I don't know," she said softly.

"Did…someone upset you?"

She shook her head stubbornly, like a kid.

Charlie would have to use another tactic.

"Okay then," he breathed. "In that case, could I ask a favour?"

"Uh-huh?"

"Would you mind making some food for Harry and Sue Clearwater?" he asked. "He likes fish fry."

"Fish fry?" Esme repeated. "We may not have all the stuff…"

Inspiration struck.

"But the bigger supermarket opens at seven, though, right?" Esme asked eagerly.

"Yeah," Charlie winced, but knew his plan was working when, much happier for an outlet for the restlessness, his sister put herself to work.

Esme cooked, put the kitchen back in order and waited for a polite time to arrive to call round on someone she didn't know on a Saturday morning. As she waited, she bounced her leg up and down on the ball of her foot but that had been a habit of hers before Charles, so she didn't begrudge herself the small luxury.

At half past ten, she began the drive out to the reservation and, despite the drizzly summer weather, she could appreciate the beauty of the wilderness around her new home.

However, like most quiet roads near Forks, Esme thought disbelievingly, they were lined with teenagers. What were they all doing?

She pulled over near where the boy was walking, not wanting to scare him but recognising him by his gait. Since the sound of the engine was familiar, he turned to smile at Esme.

"Hey, Jacob, right?" she called. "Billy's son?"

The youth nodded.

"Yeah, hi Esme," he smiled, taking off his headphones politely.

"Hi! Would you like a ride somewhere?"

"Er…thanks," he said. "But I wouldn't want you to go out of your way. Where are you heading?"

"I'm dropping some stuff off to Harry Clearwater for Charlie," Esme told him.

Jacob's face brightened.

"Well, in that case…" he said, taking Esme up on her offer and squeezing himself into the car. "Two birds with one stone - he's over at my place with my dad."

"Perfect, then!" Esme said. "Though you'll have to direct me…"

They drove through the reservation and, as they did, Jacob filled Esme in on the La Push gossip, which comprised, on Esme's part, of a lot of furrowed brows and wondering who Jared and Paul were.

"So are you in high school still?" Esme asked once she got a word in.

"Yeah, still," Jacob said, rolling his eyes. "For another three years, I'm still a Freshman, I'm sixteen."

Esme's eyebrows flew up.

"You're sixteen?"

Her eyes narrowed in playful suspicion.

"Really?"

Jacob chortled.

"I know, I'm kinda bigger than most kids my age," he said, which was a bit of an understatement.

"Well you get yourself on the football team or the basketball team, at least," Esme laughed. "You make me feel really small."

"Esme, hate to break it to you," Jacob said teasingly. "…But you are pretty short. Just saying."

"Glad to hear your eyes still work up there in the cloud blanket," Esme shot back, enjoying the kind of innocent repartee she remembered from her own childhood.

Chuckling, Esme parked the car in front of Jacob's house.

"Thanks Esme!" he said brightly.

He loped ahead to wrench open his front door.

"And would you like an omelette?" he asked, suddenly remembering his manners.

"Perhaps not right now, thank you, Jake," Esme said to the boy, smiling fondly. "But that's very sweet of you to offer."

He nodded understanding.

"DADI'MHOMEANDESME'SHERE!" Jacob yelled as he bounded off to make his eggs ('ten at a time!' Billy would complain to anyone who'd listen) while Esme introduced herself to Harry and Sue who were watching a baseball game on catchup in the living room.

It really was a lovely home, she thought. It felt safe.

"On Charlie's instruction I brought you some fish fry," Esme told them. "Minus most of the fry. Don't want to un-do all Dr Gerardy's hard work."

"Esme, you're an angel," Sue said gratefully, accepting both the food and Esme as a work of goodness. "Thank God someone's looking out for your health, Harry, even if you aren't!"

Harry shrugged.

"Esme!" Billy called, wheeling himself into the room. "Hope everything's okay with the car?"

"Yeah, it's running great," Esme reassured him. "I'm just here to drop off some provisions."

"Why don't you stay for a while? Have a coffee?" Billy offered. "I'm sure Sue would be happy for some female company."

"She's desperate, actually," Sue laughed, offering Esme her seat as she got up to make some coffee and check Jacob wasn't burning the house down with the frying pan.

"How're you settling in?" she called over her shoulder.

"Great," Esme replied. "Everyone seems really nice."

"It's a nice town," Billy said with a smile. "And I'm sure you'll see a lot of it up at the hospital. How's that going, by the way?"

"Good," Esme said quickly. "It's, y'know, fine. Made a few friends."

Billy caught Harry's eye as Mr Clearwater muted the TV.

"We…ah…heard you're working with Dr Cullen…?" Billy continued delicately, half statement, half question.

"Um, yeah…I am."

Esme shrugged, wondering why she suddenly felt so interrogated.

"He's nice," she said neutrally.

Harry and Billy shared a look.

"Uh-oh," Harry said with what could have been triumph. "Tell us all about it."

"He's…really nice," Esme repeated, she hoped more convincingly.

"That's what most folks think," Billy said darkly, surprising Esme with the seriousness of his tone. "Only most, mind you."

"Yes, I wasn't too keen to hear he would have been the one cutting me open," Harry said with a shiver. "I prayed to the gods it wouldn't be him and, luckily, I was answered."

"You prayed it wouldn't be him?" Esme asked with a strange cold tingle on her skin at his resolute mistrust, and the fact he seemed to mean that quite literally. "But he's a wonderful doctor from what I've heard."

"Oh, he's a wonderful doctor, alright…" Billy said. "Just on the reservation we've heard…rumours…"

"Rumours?" Esme repeated.

Billy leaned forward in his chair.

"Did he appear…strange to you?" He asked. "Little different to other folk?"

Esme wondered if it were possible to articulate how 'different to other folk' she'd found him.

"Perhaps…well he was sick when I first met him and…" she laughed nervously. "…A little cranky."

"I wonder how sick he was feeling when he killed his wife," Harry said bitterly, without missing a beat. "Must have been pretty cranky then."

"What?" Esme spluttered.

"We've heard rumours," Billy repeated.

"Apparently," Harry said, lowering his voice. "When they lived up in Alaska, Mommy Cullen walked in on two of the kids trying to screw each other, and she kicked the son out for it and threatened to go to the police. And Daddy Cullen wasn't too pleased about that."

He dragged his finger across his neck.

"Man's got a reputation to uphold, right?"

"That cannot be true," Esme said with a raised eyebrow and a pounding heart.

"Can't it?" Billy said. "Does anyone really know what goes on behind other people's locked doors?"

Suddenly the room felt vey small, and very airless. Esme felt her head spinning.

"Excuse me, but I just remembered I have to go," she said breathlessly, Sue's coffee forgotten.

She turned to Harry who saw blind fear in her eyes.

"I hope you feel better soon," she offered bravely as she fled the house, ran to her car and drove away.

As soon as she was out of the reservation boundary, she pulled over and let the sobs come.

"Why?" she whispered angrily to herself as she wiped the tears from her face.

Why was this happening again? She wasn't in any danger here! God!

However, it was as she breathed deeply in her car before driving home that she first caught the sensation of being watched. It didn't go away.