"You call it madness, but I call it love." – Russ Columbo.

Chapter 10: Crazy People

Regardless of the position of the sun, there is always light. Because the sun is always there; radiant and bright, even on a cloudy day. Even when the earth turns the moon reflects the light, keeping everything lit. The speed of light is impossibly fast, so the light is there when you need it. But all stars fade; all lights die out.

So what happens when the sun burns out? What happens when that last flare of heat cools? Will there be screaming? Will people cry? Will the world come to an end, or is there some person concocting an invention that will be ready to replace the sun? Though, how could someone replace the sun? While people are panicking, will they care though, if the light and heat source that saves them isn't a sun? It won't matter; as long as they live.

But I can't live. There is no replacement; Jacob can't be replaced. So with all traces of light gone, what's left?

When I first met Jacob Black, I had felt the instant pull—the instinctual gravity that lulled me into trusting him. I hadn't known then, when I was assuring Edward he was just a nice kid, that I would become so attached. I hadn't dreamed that when Jacob swayed with me in the gym—when I had been kidnapped and brought to prom—that I would want his arms around me again. I hadn't thought about has crushed I would be without having Jacob ever kiss me again when I slugged him in the face. I hadn't known that my best friend would be so hard to live without; I hadn't ever needed to think about it like this before.

I had thought about my life without him, but not life without him, not a world he didn't exist in. That was incomprehensible. There was no world without Jacob Black. My world was as cold and black as a sunless night, and there were no stars in my sky, nothing to keep me from being blinded. My eyes searched for the moon, for a shooting star, for any hint that there was something still worth an effort.

I felt Edward's hand on my face. Ah, there was my shooting star.

I opened my wary eyes to look at him. I knew I was worrying him, and I hated it, but there was nothing I could do. I had been unprepared for such a situation. I should have realized that everyone I loved from my human life was going to die, eventually, but I deluded myself into thinking that a werewolf was strong enough to endure at least until he was in old age. The striking end to his life was too horrific to rationalize, and so I hadn't thought of it as a possibility. But it was, and it had happened, and I wasn't going to be able to move on.

Or was I? The sun was shining today. I could feel a ray on my face. I hadn't noticed the dawn come. When had the birds started singing their morning songs? Why hadn't I heard them? Was I going deaf? Or had I been afraid there was nothing more to listen to?

"Bella," Edward murmured weakly, "how do you feel?"

"Don't ask that, Edward," I croaked.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"It's not your fault," I assured him, touching my hand to his face. Relief washed its way through me, cooling down the raw and pained parts of me, just by reminding myself he was here.

I turned my head away from him, so ashamed of the pain in his expression—pain that I was causing. I let my hand fall to his shoulder, and, again, felt comforted when his hand closed over mine. Edward's other hand was still on my face, but he made no move to bring me back to face him. He knew there was no helping me after last night.

I stood up and went toward the window. I pulled apart the shutters to peek out. Just as the birds started into a new chorus, I heard the thunderous roar of an engine—a car zoomed down the highway. I sighed. I hated the rattle of the metal against the road—the reminder that my personal mechanic was permanently unavailable.

"We should go out today," I suggested tonelessly.

"The sun..." Edward's voice drifted; he didn't want to upset me; but he didn't want to endanger me either.

"I know," I sighed.

I shot Edward a smile over my shoulder. He was frowning. He didn't trust my mood anymore; I could be happy one minute and inconsolable the next.

He came off the bed and effortlessly drifted to my side, silently, like a shadow. But I was the shadowy one; too shallow and empty, but there, just barely there. I was present in body, but almost completely gone in mind.

"Where do you want to go?" he asked; his arms folded over my shoulders.

"I don't know," I admitted. I couldn't explain it, but I felt the need to move around, to dislodge the shroud of darkness that seemed to be piling on top of me. I needed to find someplace where the light outshone the night. I needed a lonely place. I needed to be alone with Edward, to lose myself to him again, and forget that there ever was an outside world. Maybe that would help me.

"Let's go to Alaska," I said, suddenly enthralled by the idea. "Or the North Pole, as long as we don't have elves and a big jolly fellow as our next door neighbour."

Edward chuckled. It was overwhelmed hearing it. I hadn't heard him laugh in so long; I had sucked all the pleasure out of his world.

But, yes, overwhelmed. So much so, that I twisted in his arms and began kissing him. I practically tackled him; we were on the floor before my mind caught up with my actions. My mind approved though, so I didn't stop. I hadn't realized that I was wearing clothes before and then suddenly wasn't until it was five hours later and my instincts told me I was thirsty.

I pulled my face off of Edward's and sat up straight.

"When was the last time we went hunting?" I asked, hoping he would realize I already knew the answer.

"It's been a while," he admitted sheepishly, reluctantly loosening his grip on me.

"I'm thirsty," I groaned.

"We did just work up an appetite." Edward shrugged. "I'm not surprised."

"Me neither," I agreed, forgetting my thirst for a second and leaning down to kiss him again. "But I think I can work it up a little more before we head out."

"Bella, I swear, twenty years from now, if you're still dragging Edward around—"

"Don't worry, Alice," Bella reassured me, "Edward and I are only going off for a short while."

I rolled my eyes. Did she forget that I could see exactly how this plan was going to work out? "Bella, you need to say goodbye to Jacob," I insisted. "If you run off now, you're never going to forgive yourself. Trust me; I know."

"I'm going to have to disagree," Bella argued quietly, hanging her head. "If I go...I don't think I could take it."

"You could," I said, staring at her, with absolute conviction in my voice. "But I can't see down that path if you don't at least think about it."

Bella shook her head, as if she was human again and I was coming at her with a knife, rather than a better option.

"Think about it," I ordered. "That's all I ask! If you do that, I can tell you which path brings a sooner and better happily ever after."

"There is no happy ending for me anymore, Alice," she mumbled. "I have the good part...just not the whole part."

"You are difficult when moping," I growled.

Bella tensed. I knew I had gone too far, but I also knew this was the way to get what I wanted; I could get her to think about it; I just had to bully her into it. I had already seen that pleading wasn't going to work. And Bella didn't bow down when it came to bribes.

"I'm not moping, Alice," she seethed. "I'm grieving."

"Tomato, tomato," I snapped. "And the best way to get over both of those red fruits is to say goodbye to Jacob Black."

"I can't do it." Bella put her foot down; this was going to be a big mess.

I threw my hands up in the air. "Fine!" I hollered. "Go ahead and throw your happiness—Edward's happiness—my happiness! Hell, I'll go grab a dictionary and insert 'Bella' as the definition for depression and fun-sucker."

"Alice, I'm a blood sucker, not a fun-sucker," Bella mumbled.

I rolled my eyes. Things were going well—so far—but I wasn't going to tell her that. Seeing her able to still stand against my low jab was a good sign. She was stable, at least. Maybe I really could convince her? But how? Edward wouldn't help; he would do anything for Bella when she was like this, even if he originally believed that saying adieu to Jacob properly was the road to the best outcome.

"Say good bye on your own terms, or I'm going to drag you there, Bella," I warned her. "I'm not going to allow you to make Edward miserable for the rest of forever."

Bella's lower lip sucked in tight. I could almost see the wheels in her head turn as my words placed just the right amount of guilt to make her decision fall out of place. And there, I heard the slightest of sighs.

"Alice, I love you, but, sometimes," Bella growled, "sometimes I really hate you."

I flashed my most impish grin. "I know."

Bella crossed her arms, turned on her heel and left without a parting. But I didn't need that; the satisfaction of knowing I had one was enough for me.

"Jared Black, I am going to put you down is you whine anymore," I warned.

"I am wounded," he complained. "Why are you making me do all the heavy lifting?"

"Because I'm your mother," I said; which was a good enough reason; we both knew it.

"I offered to help," Stephanie reminded Jacob, ever so quietly. I grinned; I had managed to either make her fear me or respect me; this was a good thing.

At first I had struggled with the idea of a vampire moving in, but it wasn't so bad. Once I got over the stench—which I was still struggling with, just a little—she wasn't so awful. She complimented me—sucking up, no doubt—but it sounded real and true, so I accepted it. She offered to help. She offered to clean. She offered to help Jacob haul things to town, and work, and all around. And, the most important thing: I could talk to hear about Jacob.

I had been afraid that not talking about him would be worse than talking about him, but Stephanie was saving me from that. When Jared was asleep, and I found I had too many tears in my eyes to sleep, it was perfect having her around. She couldn't sleep; all she had to do was listen. I could confide in her during the night, catch a few hours of sleep, and then snap at her as much as I wanted to during the daylight hours. It was strong relationship—difficult to explain, but strong nonetheless.

From what I could tell, Stephanie hadn't mentioned my break-downs. I was grateful for that; I needed to be strong for Jared. It was hard for me, and the ache inside me seared as much as watching him fade away. When I closed my eyes, his face would appear. I could hold him in my arms, as I felt his pulse slow and his skin turn cold, as he kissed me long and soft and weakly...one last time.

But I couldn't tell Jared how pitiful the state of my consciousness was; I needed to be strong, for him. For which him? For my son—of course—but for Jacob too. I needed to be strong for Jacob.

"I'm not about to make my girlfriend haul a bunch of precious junk," Jared snorted, confidence incarnate.

All at once, emotionless flitted through us.

First, was my son blushing, and—if it were possible—I could have sworn I saw Steph blush too. Had they not talked about that part of their relationship? Or had the whole 'girlfriend-boyfriend' thing not come up yet?

Second, the three of us seemed to realize that 'precious junk' was all too right a description. Was it wrong to get rid of Jacob's things so early? The funeral was tomorrow, and that timing felt appropriate, but was all this too quick? I wasn't getting rid of everything—just most things.

For example, that odd looking wolf carving that was only big enough for a bracelet charm. It wasn't half as good as Jacob's newer wood carvings. Jacob had said there was a sentimental value to it, but it seemed more like it was a bitter memory than a good one. Why would I want to keep something that reminded me of what his face looked like when it contorted in sadness? No, I was going to throw it away, to keep the memories of his smiling face stronger.

The third emotion—the strangest of them all—was probably what did it though. It wasn't expected, and it wasn't rational, but maybe we had all gone mad somewhere down the road. Whatever the explanation was, Jared had dropped the box to the ground, and we were all laughing.

We laughed, we cried, and we laughed again. The cause of the emotion didn't matter by the third bout of laughter. All that mattered is that someone's voice said his name, and that we all began reciting cheerful memories of him after that. I was able to bash him and praise him, and never felt vulnerable or depressed. It was a beautiful moment; as if we were a real family, and not supposed to be enemies at all. I felt entirely emancipated from the shadow of doubt—doubt of Jacob's idea, doubt of Stephanie, doubting my son's choices, and doubting my life. But, obviously, I wasn't a screw-up. I had had Jacob for a while—however short it felt—and I had my wonderful Jared, who, although didn't look exactly like his father, had sure traces in him—both physical likeness and psychological.

However long after the laughing stopped, we finished clearing things out—the precious junk—and made our way back home—our home.

"I can't believe you just said that," Steph hushed, lowering her voice, as if I couldn't hear. (Yeah, right.) "Jared, if I treated my mother like you treat yours, I think she would have kicked me out."

"I doubt that," Jared muttered under his breath.

"Your right," she agreed. They both looked surprised that she had agreed, but said nothing.

"You know, that's not a bad idea," I said aloud, intentionally trying to fill the silence with a low jab. "Maybe I should kick you out."

"You wouldn't do that," Jared insisted. "Because then you would have to live with knowing that I was somewhere out in the wilderness with a vampire."

"Hm, good point," I noted. "Oh, well. Good luck."

"C'mon, you're not serious," he laughed.

"I could use the space," I bluffed.

"Sure you could," he mocked, "for all your hot air and your ego."

I quickened my pace to get ahead of him. "I am so proud that my son respects me and my need for space," I growled, sharply crossing my arms over my chest. "Jared Black, if you weren't too old to be grounded, I would ground you, young man."

I stepped in front of him, blocking his path. Stephanie stopped just beside him. He rolled his eyes. He knew the display of authority was just for show—and just to give me something to do. He knew me so well.

"I'm going over to Emily's today, to make sure everything is straightened out for tomorrow," I reminded him.

"Are...they...coming?" Steph had trouble talking about them of late. Why? I wasn't sure. But it was fine with me. I would be pleased if she severed all ties with the others of her kind.

"Yeah, they're coming," I answered. "But, not for long, I don't think. I'm surprised I know about it and you don't." I turned my eyes, narrowing them on Jared.

Of course. That explained it. Jared was the line of communication; he was keeping it from her. Again, why? I had no clue. But it didn't matter to me; I was involved with the bloodsuckers. Whether it was to protect her feelings or because he was afraid she would change her mind and leave with the Cullens... Or maybe it did matter. I felt my eyes widen, and I worried for a second that Jared had thought the same thing, that what's-his-name—Edwin or Ernie or Edward—was still Steph's favourite. He had taken Bella, and almost had Steph. Was it too absurd to think he was unselfish?

"Well, I better take off," I said and tried not to release the awkward laughter bubbling up inside my throat.

I spun on my heels and took off down the road, probably earning confused stares from the two younglings.

Ew, was I really old enough to be referring to them as younglings?

I walked down the road in a sulk, realizing how old I was. I was old enough to have a dead husband.

"Your mother can be weird," I stated suddenly. I mean, really suddenly. I was sprawled beside him on his bed, hands behind my head, while he half-glared half-appraised the ceiling. We had been laying there all of five quiet minutes when I had spoken.

"You just noticed this?"

I nodded my head, and made no other answer. My mind was occupied on too many things to speak again. First was his crazy but sweet mother, and how I was doing not so bad at impressing Leah. Second thing on my mind was the funeral tomorrow. There was a whole bagful of crazy going to go down there. What with Bella, and Edward, and Rosalie...man, she was going to murder me. But that wasn't the main problem. The main problem was figuring out how I would console Jared and his mother. I had been doing well keeping Leah's seams sewn, and she was strong enough to mend herself anymore than that. Jared, however, I had no clue how to fix up—or if he even needed fixing! It was as if his tear ducts had been permanently shut or something. I cried for days when Issie died; how was he not sobbing from the agony of losing his father? If he was the crying-mourning type, I would have no problem. But he was incredibly strong—like a crushable Man of Steel—and I didn't know how to deal with that.

I bit my lip, chewing on it nervously as I puzzled a plan into working. Nothing worked though; nothing seemed to fit. Jared was too unknown to me. Okay, sure I knew him, but I had never seen him grieve. How they hell do you help the one you love grieve?

We didn't move for at least another hour. I don't know how he managed it. I could literally sit forever and not be bothered; I wasn't sure how he managed it.

I was beginning to wonder if he had fallen asleep—except he tended to snore—or if he had decided to stop breathing.

"Hey, Jared—?"

Quicker than I reacted, he was on top of me. I didn't move, didn't flinch, I just waited for him to speak. His eyes bored into mine, scanned my face, tried to measure a reaction. I just waited.

"You said you loved me, right?" he asked; I nodded. "And you're with me over Edward?" I nodded again. "And you're not going to leave, right?"

I sighed and closed my eyes, fighting a smile. "Are we playing twenty questions?" He didn't answer. "Please, Jared, get to the point."

"The point, Stephanie, is that you are my girlfriend, and I've imprinted on you, and even if I hadn't I'd have eventually fallen in love you anyway."

I laughed and opened my eyes. "I think you're a bit biased, what with the whole imprint thing," I retorted.

I gasped, finally noticing the look in his dark eyes. How had I missed that? He was being so completely serious. How had he gone from staring at the ceiling to—to—what what he doing?

"I know this is a leap," he admitted, seeing that he had confounded me to the point of speechlessness. "I need to put this out there, though."

"Okay," I breathed.

How had we gone from yesterday to right now without me noticing a drastic change in him? Had I been so blind sighted by this upcoming funeral that I had forgotten to pay attention? Or was I just stupid? Probably the last one.

"Okay," he sighed.

His breathing drew in shakily.

"Am I making you nervous?" I teased.

"Yes," he murmured. "Because I already know your answer, and this is probably the stupidest thing I'll ever do."

"You mean, besides fall for a vampire?" I piped.

"Yes, besides that."

I pouted at that; usually he denied that loving me was bad. This really was a drastic change.

"Okay, so, get it over with. What the stupid question?" I prompted.

"If the answer is no," he simpered, "just don't answer, okay? That will be easier for me to take."

"Okay." I nodded again, feeling blind sighted—again.

He drew in another shaky breath.

"If I say yes in advanced, will that help?" I offered.

He shook his head and his eyes widened. "No, that wouldn't help," he laughed, nervously. "That would definitely make things worse, since I know the answer is going to be no."

"What kind of question is this?" I wondered aloud. "Is this one of those 'would you die for me' type of questions? Or is it a type of question that will make me want to whack you over the head? Don't set yourself up for disappointment if you're about to ask me if I am willing to move into the garage so we don't have to deal with your mother."

"Stephanie," he pleaded, "let me ask."

"Alright, I'm going to listen," I assured him. I took his face in my hands and smiled at him as encouragingly as I could manage, despite the shock I was feeling from the surprise question. "Okay, go ahead."

He sighed again, and took one of my hands inside his. I waited, still smiling.

"Stephanie," he proposed, "will you marry me?"

Review please! (Sorry for the long wait; been very busy! FORGIVE ME!)