Part I, Chapter IX: Explosions

Disclaimer: I like to play pretend in the house Stephanie Meyer created but I really like to do renovations because I don't particularly like the finishes or the majority of the house (is that a witty enough way to say I own shit and think that the Twilight Universe has promise? Yeah, I think so).

Warning: This story contains Adult Content. Beware.

Summary: Charlie Swan went missing on the 12th of November 2005. They found no blood, and no body but the police had stopped looking. That's why I was coming back to Forks. I had to find my father. Follow Bella in this dark exploration of what the Twilight Universe could be when faced with the reality of wolves pretending to be boys, and monsters pretending to be high school students.


Missing Youth

by: brbbbe (Emily)


Oh, mirror in the sky, what is love?
Can the child within my heart rise above?
Can I sail through the changing ocean tides?
Can I handle the seasons of my life?

Well, I've been afraid of changing
'Cause I've built my life around you
But time makes you bolder
Even children get older
And I'm getting older too

Fleetwood Mac - Landslide


Previously:

"Just answer this," I said. "Was Emily Young killed by a bear?"

Joshua Uley remained silent.

And silence was more of a confirmation than his words ever would be.


BELLA

"Bella!"

I had been at the grocery store the first time Alice Cullen had spoken to me.

I turned at the sound of my name being called. I had only ever heard that sort of voice before, and it had belonged to a Cullen, so it didn't take me much to deduce who was calling me.

Alice Cullen came dancing down the bread aisle with a grin on her lips and a flower in her hair. She almost seemed excited to see me - as if we actually had a friendship to speak of. She acted as if our relationship, and when I say relationship I say it loosely, was anything more than the casual meeting of eyes in the hallway. But nevertheless, she seemed excited to see me.

I felt like she wanted to embrace me, but she held herself back – as if she was pacing herself. Alice Cullen had said nothing more than two words to me in the past. Correction; she had once asked me for a tampon while we had been in the bathroom. I had readily offered her one, before making my way back to class. And that summed up our relationship.

"Hey," I said with a small smile. "Alice, right?"

She beamed. "You remembered!"

"Of course," I said with a shrug. "It's not hard to know who the Cullens are, after all."

Alice laughed, a tinkling thing of such melody that I wanted to bottle the sound and sell it on the side of the road. "Funny. Why are you shopping on Christmas Eve? That seems pretty depressing."

I evaluated her question, wondering if she had heard herself. "Um … probably the same reason as you are."

I didn't think I would ever compare Alice Cullen to myself. But as she heard my response to her semi-ironic question, Alice Cullen's smile dropped and her eyes lost the brightness that they usually had. Her eyes fell to the floor, and her lips began to move, as if she was muttering to herself. And yet it was too fast to catch on.

I had always noticed that Alice was slightly weirder than the average Forks student. I had spoken to her brother, Edward, barely, and yet it was enough to deduce that even Edward wasn't as socially awkward as his sister. I almost felt sorry for her when I saw her sitting by herself, staring into space. Almost being the key word; I couldn't feel too sorry for a girl that beautiful.

I watched her in shock as she rubbed her arm, shifting her eyes as she tried to avoid my stare. The awkwardness practically sang between us – hovering over us like a heavy blanket.

"Alice? Dear?"

Alice's head snapped up at the sound of her name being uttered. A woman with the same pale skin, and the same golden eyes came towards us then. I was almost blinded by her beauty – the insecure part of me wondering if I should just go die now. The woman who was walking towards us looked a little bit older than Alice, but her face showed no sign of age. It was the way she carried herself, and the way she smiled that made me wonder if this beauty could possibly be Alice's mother.

Or adoptive foster parent. Whatever the Cullens were.

The woman, who I could only assume to be Dr Cullens wife, wore a purple frilled blouse that was tucked into a beautifully knit skirt. Thick stockings covered her alabaster legs, while boots that would keep her warm came to her knees. This woman screamed Hollywood starlet, from the way her lips resembled a heart to the way her caramel hair curled against her pearlescent skin.

"Mom, this is Bella Swan," Alice said, almost forcefully. "Chief Swan's daughter."

The lovely woman's golden eyes softened, and the look came over her face. It was the same look I had seen overcome everyone; the look that screamed 'we know about what happened to your Dad and it sucks that it happened but we hold no hope to the possibility he's still alive'. Yeah. That look.

She outstretched her hands to mine, both of her gloved hands embracing one of mine. "Oh, Bella, I am so, so sorry about your father. My family and I all think the most of Chief Swan, I hope you know."

"Thank you, Mrs Cullen," I said with a smile, balancing my basket in my other hand. "That's very kind of you."

"Please, dear, it's Esme," She murmured, offering me a bright smile. "Alice and Edward have said such high things of you, so I'm glad to finally be meeting you."

"Oh," I said, shocked. "Well, that's also … kind."

Esme, like her daughter, seemed way too excited to see me. It almost unnerved me to know that these two strangers could ever be excited to see me. Especially in a grocery store.

"Do you have anyone staying with you for Christmas, Bella?" Esme asked, a smile still on her lips.

I motioned to the chicken roast in my basket. "Only the chicken."

Alice giggled, overly enthusiastic while Esme smiled indulgently. "Not even your mother?"

"I had to beat her away with a bat," I said. "My Mom would just want me to go back to Arizona, and I don't- I can't do that just yet."

"So you'll be staying until graduation, right?" Alice questioned, her golden eyes imploring mine to answer.

I shrugged. "Hopefully I'll figure out everything with my Dad before then, but yeah, I'll be staying for a while."

"And what about College?" Esme inquired. "Surely you'll be applying?"

I shrugged, again. "College isn't high on the agenda at the moment. What about you, Alice? Are you heading off to college?"

Esme beamed, just as her daughter had done ten minutes prior. "Alice has received an early acceptance to Dartmouth. And Edward is heading there as well, I think."

"You think? Has he not decided yet?"

Alice laughed. "Edward was thinking about something European. He claims American colleges are just an excuse to get drunk and party nowadays."

Alice's freely given information about Edward made me laugh. "Well, he's sort of right."

"Don't ever tell him you said that," Alice giggled, "or he'll think hold it over your head forever."

I smiled. "I'll be sure not to mention it."

Esme eyed the chicken in my basket again, her wide golden eyes meeting mine once more. "I feel awful, Bella – no one should have to spend Christmas alone."

"Don't worry about it, seriously," I said with a wave of my hand. "I've never been big on Christmas, anyways."

"You could always come to our house, Bella," Esme suggested, to which Alice seemed to suppress a squeal at. "Christmas is Alice's favorite holiday. We'd love to have one of her friends over."

"I wouldn't want to intrude," I said quickly, the thought of dining with the Cullens almost nauseating. I didn't want to be close to Edward Cullen for the fear of embarrassing myself further. "Honestly, I actually have a lot of stuff to do and I kinda like being by myself."

Esme looked like she wanted to say more, but Alice put her hand on her adopted mothers arm. "Don't pressure Bella, Mom. She's probably had enough of our interrogation."

I flushed, almost embarrassed that I was that predictable. "No, really, you've both been really lovely. But I should probably get back – this chicken won't cook itself."

XXX

'I'd say your daddy was taken by a Cold One'.

In my father's annotations, he claimed that a Cold One was the villain of Quileute legend. A Cold One was a bloodthirsty creature with incredibly strength and supernatural speed. A Cold One had heightened senses, similar to that of the most lethal of predators. A Cold One was something to be feared – it was something that even my father had thought was real.

I had thought of an animal. Maybe the Cold One was a metaphor. Maybe Deputy Regan had been right to rule Emily Young's death as something caused by a bear. Maybe the Cold One was a bear. I turned the page to my father's notes, my eyes going to the image on the left page. The illustration demonstrated a Cold Ones attack on the tribe, or so my father had thought.

I scoured the image, looking over the careful strokes to the vivid details. The image's vibrancy had faded with time, and it almost seemed like it had been painted directly into the book. My finger traced the details, from the tribes people's sorrow drawn faces to the body they knelt around. It was a young woman that had captured the tribes attention – her black hair covering her face and a quilt covering her body. The only thing that could be seen was an arm.

An arm that had been bitten.

Or at least that's what it looked like.

My eyebrows furrowed as I traced the bite – a bite that almost looked human. An odd sense of déjà vu came over me, before I thought back to the pictures I had hidden from sight.

"Oh, my god," I gasped, before scrambling to my Dad's room.

Slamming open the door, I pulled the drawer from the nightstand and grabbed the pictures. With trembling hands, I turned them over, feeling my stomach roll with nausea. I flicked through the images with bile crawling up my throat, and with a pounding head, needing to find the one picture that I had recognized.

There it was. A bite.

When I had first seen this picture, of Emily's detached hand, I had vomited. This time, as I looked at the torn flesh that I had tried so hard to repress, I didn't vomit. Instead, I felt an odd sense of achievement. For there, in the space just after her wrist and forearm, was a bite.

Just like the one in the legends.

"A Cold One," I murmured, my eyes wide as I looked up from the picture.

A Cold One had killed Emily, that I was sure. Another thing I was sure; Sam Uley had killed his girlfriend. Which meant that whatever Sam was, and whatever Jacob was, had everything to do with the villain of their tribe. I felt my breath coming out in panicked gasps as my lungs seized. Oh god. Oh, my god. Jacob – Sam – all of them were Cold Ones.

I scrambled to the bathroom, and ejected everything I had eaten in the past twenty four hours. I heaved, the bile coming quick and thick as the sight of Emily's hand, of Jacob's lips, of Sam Uley's devastated eyes, consumed my thoughts. Again and again I heaved, my lungs begging for release as my muscles contracted.

My cheek felt cold against the toilet seat, tears trickling down my flushed cheeks. Everything was so fucked up. I knew now what Jacob meant when he said his life was fucked up. What had I been thinking when I came here? I never should have come back to Forks. I never should have started looking.

Pushing myself to my feet, I grasped the sink – my tired eyes meeting my reflection. I stared at the girl in the mirror, wondering what had happened to her. My hair stuck to my face; lifeless and knotted, while my brown eyes – my father's eyes – were framed by purplish bruises that indicated how well I slept.

I shook my head at my own reflection, splashing water on my face before I heard the sound of the oven beeping. That would be the chicken. My stomach churned at the thought of food, but I went downstairs anyway. Turning the oven off, I leant against the counter as I thought back to the bite.

So, Jacob and his gang were Cold Ones. Sam was a Cold One. Sam had killed Emily, or one of the Cold Ones had.

They had taken my father.

They had … killed my father.

I closed my eyes at the thought, tears spilling from my eyes. And then my thoughts went to Jacob. Jacob, the man whose eyes haunted me while I slept. Jacob, the man I had kissed. My stomach churned at the thought, and I wanted to throw up again. The thought that Jacob was one of them, was something that was so evil it had done that to Emily Young, seemed so wrong that I could barely stomach it.

Jacob hadn't exactly treated me with kindness, but around him, I felt … settled. I didn't feel nervous, or clumsy, or even awkward. I was assertive, and confident, and everything I had never been. It wasn't as if we had much of a relationship to speak of, but Jacob was something better than what my conclusions had led me to. He had to be.

He couldn't be a monster.

I needed to see him.

I needed to see him now.

The journey to La Push was as quiet as it always had been, but this time, anxiety overwhelmed me. I didn't know what I would say to him, or if I would be able to say anything to him. A part of me – the smart part – screamed at me to turn the car around. What if I was hurt? What if Jacob hurt me.

Inhale.

I thought back tot h way he looked at me, or the way he whispered my name. I thought back to the way he had held me when his lips had ravished mine. I thought back to the way he smiled, for what seemed like the first time in months, when we were talking. He wouldn't hurt me. I knew that.

Exhale.

The sight of the little red house beyond the trees was enough to make my fingers tremble. Inhale. I tried to focus on driving, but I couldn't when I saw them. The Cold Ones. Exhale.

Turning the key, I jumped from my truck as I summoned whatever courage I had left within me.

"Jacob!" I bellowed, my rage knowing no bounds.

He turned at the sound of my voice, his eyes almost expectant as I charged toward him. "Bella?"

"You've got a minute to tell me what happened to my Dad," I snarled, pushing my hands against his bare chest. Behind him stood a collection of men that looked just like their leader – tall, broad, and menacing.

"Want us to get rid of her, boss?" One of them asked, and I glared at him before I turned my eyes back to meet Jacobs.

With my hands on his chest, I felt a calm go through me – as if the rage was just melting away with every second spent in his presence. No, I thought, no he doesn't get off that easily.

"Get rid of me?" I echoed, a laugh escaping me as I realized that my assumptions had been real. "Is that what you did to my Dad, Jacob? Is that what Sam did to Emily?"

"You don't know what the fuck you're talking about, little girl," One of them snarled – his face twisting in anger.

I laughed, pushing passed Jacob to stand in front of him. "I think I do, jackass. I paid a visit to Joshua Uley this morning."

"You did what?" Jacob snarled, grabbing me by the arm and pulling me in front of him.

I squared my shoulders. "You weren't telling me shit, and I told you I wasn't going to give up-"

"So you visited an old drunk," Jacob drawled, shaking his head. "A man whose liver started failing a year ago and who hides out on the Makah rez because he's too scared of us to come back here? What did he tell you Bella? Did he tell you about our legends? Or did you question him about them?"

My cheeks flushed as I stared up at him, my eyes narrowing as I felt hatred pool in my chest and bubble. I had thought Jacob Black was different than Sam – I had thought that maybe he was misunderstood. I was very, very wrong. And oh I hated him – I hated what he had done to my father, and what he had done to Emily Young.

I hated how I felt around him. I hated how he looked at me. I hated him.

"Just tell me what happened to my Dad, Jacob," I spat, wanting nothing more than to punch him. "Please."

For a second, a mere second, Jacob looked at me as he did that day in his kitchen. He looked at me with a gentleness, a softness, that made me want to melt into him. That day, when his lips had found mine, he had held me like a parched man. That day, he looked at me like a man who had been asleep for the past two years and was finally awake.

And then it was gone. Just like it had been that day.

My hands were still on his chest, and his hands had come to cover mine – pushing me away from him. And then it made sense.

"You don't want me near you," I began, "because you don't want to hurt me. You said yourself that you didn't want me to be like … to be like Emily. You don't want to hurt me, Jacob."

He flinched, the sound of his name on my lips causing him to stumble back. "You'll never be like Emily."

"Because you won't hurt me, right?" I questioned, my heart hammering. "Like you hurt my Dad? Like you hurt Emily?"

"We saved Emily," One of the boys snarled. "She was dying anyways."

"So you did kill her?" I asked, my eyes wide. They were actually admitting it. Oh my god, they were actually admitting it. I was right.

"Paul!" Jacob bellowed, his face twisting in anger. "Do not say another word."

"No, no, Paul, you keep talking," I said, stepping forward. "Did you decapitate her, then, Paul? Were you the one who tore her head off?"

"Bella-"

"No, you shut up," I snapped back at Jacob. "I need answers. I need answers now."

I turned back to Paul, a hysterical smile on my lips. "You can tell me, Paul. Tell me what you did to Emily Young."

"That's enough, Bella."

I turned at the sound of Billy Blacks voice, my fists clenching as I saw the old man. "Enough? I haven't even started."

My heart pounded in my chest as I heard the echoing agreements of the rest of the men around me. Telling me to leave. Telling me to go home. I turned back to Jacob, whose eyes were fixed on the ground.

"You're not even going to look at me, then?" I asked Jacob, cocking a brow.

"You need to leave, Bella."

I shook my head, hatred consuming me as I glared at him. Moving back to where Jacob was, I grabbed his jaw and pulled his head up – refusing to leave without him at least meeting my eyes. I forced myself to look into his charcoal eyes, the eyes that I could so easily get lost in, when I spat the words.

"I hate you."

And that was when everything exploded.


Preview:

JACOB

I was fourteen when I first phased.

I could still remember what it felt like. I could still remember how my muscles felt new, spasming and vibrating as I stumbled through the house. I could remember how I heard my Dad's voice … from a mile away. I could remember how the smell of pine, and tobacco overwhelmed me like never before. It was as if everything around me was suddenly magnified, and I was victim to


A/N: It's not Friday, but guess who got 100 reviews! I did! Thank you all so much, I can't express how much I love every one of your reviews. I'm not going to respond to your reviews just yet, one because I'm exhausted and two because its not my usual update day! I just want to tell you guys how much I appreciate your reviews. But just to clarify, in the first chapter I said that after the first ten chapters the story would shift POV but I've changed my mind. The next chapter will be Jacob's POV for nine chapters, and then it will alternate. Hope that clears something up, but you guys should be excited because now that we're in Jacob's POV you will be able to find out EVERYTHING! I'll see you on Friday xx