A/N: I don't know how long it will be until i get and read Breaking Dawn (Yay!) so this might be the last update for a while. But since you'll all be reading it too i guess that doesn't matter. Thank you to everyone who reviewed and thank you to everyone who took the time to read this far. I love you all. Don't own anything you recognise, that's all Stephanie's. Enjoy!

Supernova

Chapter 10: "Stay, Lady, Stay, Stay With Your Man Awhile, Until The Break Of Day, Let Me See You Make Him Smile." – Bob Dylan, Lay Lady Lay.

"You sound different," Molly observed all of ten seconds into our phone call.

I was sprawled out on my back across the bedroom floor, feet climbing up the soft cream of the wall. My newly painted red toes standing out like neon against the neutral background. "Do I?" I said in my most innocent voice.

"Yes, you do," Molly insisted. Then I heard someone muffled in the background. " Jenny would like to know 'if the reason for your perkiness is that you've finally shagged the local'?"

Heart started beating louder against my ribs. I was silent too long trying to think up the best answer that would produce the least questions and Molly knew it.

"You have!" She proclaimed, certain. Jenny shrieked so loud I had to hold the phone away from my ear, and I rolled my eyes to the ceiling.

"No I haven't!" I said when I could put the receiver back to my ear without risking a burst eardrum. "And, can you tell the banshee to keep it down back there?"

Molly laughed and turned away from the phone. "Shut up, Jen."

"Sorry!" Came the yelled apology.

"I'll tell her where I've hidden the stash of Cadbury's in a minute, that'll keep her quite," Molly teased. "So," back to the interrogation in hand, "something has happened. Spill. I'm guessing it has to do with the gorgeous eyed guy, Jay? Jack? The really brave one that - heaven forbid! - dared to look at you."

"It's Jacob," I corrected, inadvertently answering all her unspoken questions.

"Ah, yes, Jacob."

"Stop it," I growled.

"What?" she asked in a faultless 'who me?'

"I can hear the smug smile, Molly."

Pause. "You can't hear smiles, Alex, don't be stupid. Hang on, Jenny has something to say…" There was a muffled exchange that made me wish I were back home again. "Ok, so Jenny would like you to 'stop stalling and tell us what the bloody hell is going on so she can go and gorge herself on chocolate.'"

My feet slid half the way down the wall and I turned my head to see the dresses I had brought hanging up on my wardrobe ready. Then, sat on the edge of the desk I could make out the curve of stone Jacob had given to me that day by the river, when he told me everything about Bella and him and Edward and the rest of the Cullen family and why he had to go to this sham of a wedding today. The stone was a perfect smooth circle, it shimmered grey in the dying light and had been clutched tightly in my palm the entire ride home until it was as warm as my skin. A circle has no beginning and no ending, its strong and everlasting.

"We're…" I trailed off unsure now that I had to define it what exactly we were to each other. "I don't really know. We're just hanging out at the moment."

"Hanging out?" Molly said in that dissecting voice that told me she was reading into my every word and hesitation. "Jennifer! No! Hands off! Hey!" there was a short scuffle.

"Have you snogged him yet?" Jenny panted, gleefully out of breath after wrestling the phone from Molly – who was a notorious biter.

"No."

"But you want to right?"

Those butterflies that had taken up residence in my belly ever-since yesterday started up their insistent fluttering. "We're taking it slow."

"Awww!" I heard her coo in that really annoying way. If I were there in Molly's room with them I would have smacked her for it. "Our ickle Alexie is in love!"

My stomach dropped. "No I am not!" The protests were drowned out by Jenny's gleeful proclamations and I could tell by the jangling of her bangles that she was dancing about. "Jenny! I'm not!"

"Ouch!" Jenny groaned.

"Alex?" Molly asked.

"Yeah?" I grumbled.

"Hold on…" When she came back to the phone she sounded like my mother when she finally put the twins and George to bed and collapsed into a sofa. "So… Jenny's guzzling chocolate. Peace at last. What's all this about love?"

Heat was creeping into my cheeks. Suddenly my room felt fiercely stuffy. I should have opened a window. I could suffocate from the polish fumes. "Nothing. Nothing." I muttered as I scrambled up and shoved a window wide open.

"Uh huh."

"It's… it's complicated. I can't really talk to you about it." It sounded fake and flaky and like some cliché excuse.

"Ok." Molly said. As if it was as simple as that. "You sound good by the way. Different, but good."

Mirrors. They show the truth. Whatever your flaws are they are reflected back at you so that you can no longer pretend or conceal, but are forced to admire or destroy.

For a long time I avoided looking in them, afraid to see what would be shown, afraid that I wouldn't be able to meet my own eyes. Now, I stood in my dressing gown and stared at the long forgotten face. It was both alien and familiar. My hair fell shorter to my shoulders, my skin was paler but still with a hint of those childhood freckles across the bridge of my nose (fairy foot prints, my mother said), and my lips, parting with a life of their own into a new soft smile. It was the bright blue of my eyes that took me by surprise, the way they shone back at me. No fear.

That wasn't true. There was a touch of fear, but it was no longer enough to devour the light that was sparking up inside of me.

With sure hands I loosened the tie at my waist. The heavy fabric slid from my shoulders to pool at my bare feet. There I stood in my bra and knickers. The image was fuller than I remembered, curves. The skin smooth, pale, with almost invisible silvery lines that traced across my hips. This was I. Alexandra Grant. Age 16.

I stared at myself for a full minute more before Diana called up the stairs that it was nearly time to go and Jacob would be here to collect me soon.

The dress I chose was a cute fifties halter-neck, white, with black cherry print across it, just girly enough. As I tugged the zipper up I wondered again at what I was doing. Was I brave? Or stupid?

What kind of person goes to a wedding that will be filled with vampires? It was beyond my comprehension why Jacob was going at all. He had tried to save her life but she was determined to throw it away. It made me feel a little queasy to think that she was going to be turned into one of them, willingly.

Soul mates. Best friends.

That is what Jacob had described them as. How could he be Bella's soul mate and still claim to care more for me? How could Bella be his and yet marry another man? I didn't understand what was better than a soul mate. All my life I had been told that soul mates were the ultimate love and now I was being informed that something existed that could beat that. Of course vampires and werewolves weren't suppose to be walking the streets of Forks either.

Reality was changing so quickly that I felt like I was grasping at threads of knowledge trying to weave them together and all the time they kept slipping through my fingers. I stood there with no better understanding than I had when I first came.

The Cullen's were vampires who didn't eat humans. Dr Cullen was a vampire.

Bella was going to marry a vampire and she knew it, she wanted it, she wanted to be one of them. Jacob had almost lost it when he told me this and I could understand why.

To give up her life like that. Was it brave? Foolish?

Was she stronger than I had at first believed, able to look past the dark and see only the light? But to truly love a person, all parts, both the darkness and the light must be seen, accepted, cherished as one and the same.

Was she weak? Selfish? Unable to see that sometimes we cannot always have the thing we love most. That we are giving up too much, hurting too many others for it to ever be right. Can love be justification enough for that?

Or was she merely a stupidly ungrateful girl with no concept of what it means, of what a gift life is and how it should be treasured, never wasted? Did she not understand that the dead are never forgotten to the living? That time doesn't always heal. Loss is like an eternal bruise beneath the surface, pain rising fresh when pressed. A scar, a constant reminder etched into our skin, into our souls, changing us forever.

"Alexandra!"

Diana called up the stairs and I jolted from my revelry, eyes focusing back to the mirror image of myself. A glistening trail down my cheek was brushed swiftly away by shaking hands.

"I'll be down in a moment!" I yelled back, voice sounding strained as I neatened the mascara around my eyes. Fingers grabbed for the scarlet cardigan that lay on my bed and I slid my feet into the matching red peep toe flats that sat by the door (I wasn't risking heals with my ankle). I hurried from the room feeling the need for Jacob's warmth, his brightness.

When I reached the bottom of the stairs they were tucked in the sitting room. Jacob was stood nearest to the door, probably ready to make his getaway, dressed in black trousers and a white shirt. He looked good. "Hey…" I breathed, lifting my bag from the sofa I had chucked it on earlier.

"Hey…" Jacob's husky voice returned, easing my apprehension at once, perhaps he was a warlock as well. "Nice dress."

I glanced up to see Diana shooting him withering glares. "You look stunning, Alex," she said pointedly and I almost laughed.

"Thank you," I smiled at her.

She sent me one back, genuinely happy. "You will bring her back if it gets too cold," she warned Jacob as I made towards the door. "I don't understand why they couldn't have held it during the day."

I flinched. I knew of a good reason why we were setting out at 7:30 for a twilight wedding. Glittering in the sun? Madness.

Jacob nodded, soberly. "I won't let her out of my sight."

"That's what you think," I muttered, a little teasing, a little serious. I wasn't one to be bossed about by anyone.

He heard and sent me a hard look in return. I knew that it wasn't to smother me only to protect me, but I wasn't a china vase, I had managed to look after myself for the last 16 years pretty well on my own. On the other hand, apart from Seth there was only Jacob that I wanted to talk to there so it was a battle that didn't need to be fought.

"We should get going." I gave Diana another reassuring grin, she was eyeing Jacob like he was a… well… a wolf, and I was little red riding hood. Her look said 'If you damage one hair on that girl's head I will be after you with a shot gun.' It was nice to know. Made me feel all warm and cocooned like a giant Aunt shaped blanket and my nerves eased somewhat.

Outside by the curb sat the rabbit Jacob had built himself. The only thing I had ever built was a pasta picture frame in first school, and even then most of the fusilli had abandoned ship before I got home and the glitter glue left a sparkling trail across my bedroom floor. So I was suitably impressed by Jacob's apparent handyman-ness. As I made to get in the passenger side he swept past me and opened the door with a great dramatic flourish. I shook my head at the display but climbed in all the same.

He sat in the drivers seat with a grin. "You're being surprisingly civil so far," he noted.

I frowned. He was right. "Make the most of it. Nothing lasts forever."

The engine roared into life and just before he pulled away into the road he turned to me again with a soft smile. "You look beautiful," he said and I rolled my eyes in an attempt to halt the blush creeping stealthily up my neck.

"Just drive before I change my mind," I ordered. Then peering out the window at the familiar scenery I muttered, "Chee-sy."

It was silent in the car on the journey home. All around us the night was thick, streetlights straining to penetrate the darkness that had fallen. The windows were rolled down and I breathed in that cool freshness after what had seemed like unnaturally stifling air at the ceremony. The clock on the dash read 12:07 as we wound through the empty roads, the trees rising up beside us and filling me with that fear I forced down. The dread of the unknown, of the black corners, the places we fear to tread.

Bella had looked beautiful. She was truly lovely in her white dress, cheeks rosy in the fading light, angelic. There was a small trip as she made the four steps up to the platform and under the arch of flowers. Edward seemed to catch her before she even tipped and there was an audible breath of relief from the guests.

He was beautiful too. Edward Cullen. They all were, but now I knew the truth their beauty was like comparing a photo of a child to the living thing. One would forever be caught in that moment; the other would grow, its beauty would change, and its beauty was in those changes. The laughter lines, the freckles that spring up in the sunlight, the strength, then the fragility. A whole life reflected there. The Vampires were so beautiful like statues of Grecian gods. But I would rather watch a sapling become a tree than stone remain forever stone.

It was a quiet ceremony, and I spent most of my time scanning the guests and picking human from vampire. It wasn't hard.

Jacob's eyes did not stray from the front, face set like cement. Halfway through the vows his hand reached across to clasp mine tightly and did not let it go for the remainder of the evening. Pain radiated from him, etched into every line of his face.

When Bella came to greet us with shy, apologetic smiles I was forced to clench my free fist at my side. She thanked him for coming, it meant so much to her. Her eyes flickered to our joined hands and a sad smile tugged at her lips. Edward appeared in less than a minute, arm slipping around her waist, eyes hard on Jacob.

It was tempting to ask him if she was ever let off the leash. But when those topaz eyes shot to mine fiercely and in an instant Jacob had pulled me closer, a low growl slipping from his throat, I remembered what I had been told. Powers. Mind reading. Oops. That would get incredibly annoying for everyone involved after a while. There is a reason our thoughts are our own.

Dr Cullen came over to greet us, asked how my ankle was holding up. It was awkward now I knew the truth and he didn't talk with us long.

Just before we were going to leave Bella managed to sneak away from her guard-dog. She persuaded Jacob to let me go for a minute so that she could speak to me privately. It was strange to stand there with her all dressed up in celebration knowing that soon everyone here would be morning her death, or disappearance. Bella thanked me. I didn't understand what I needed to be thanked for.

There were two Jacob's she told me: the good, happy, sunshine Jacob, and the moody, arrogant, pushy Jacob. The first she had always referred to as Her Jacob, she explained this like we were now friends. Hardly. He was the boy that helped her through the hardest time, her best friend. She was glad that I had brought him back and that he had me. And she told me once again to look after him, like I was his new owner and she was explaining that if I didn't exercise him enough he'd chew up the carpet.

So I said to her, with any lingering trace of civility gone. "Do you see a name tag on him anywhere? A 'property of Bella Swan' stamped across his forehead? He's Jacob, just Jacob. And if he wants to be angry, or moody, or stubborn then he can – it doesn't make him a bad person. If he wants to smile, and laugh, and joke around then he will – but he won't be being your Jacob, he'll just be being Jacob. You don't own him, Bella and you have no place judging him."

Of course she hadn't meant it like that… of course.

A pixie like brunette flittered over to us and I half expected her to start sprinkling fairy dust around. Instead, she looped her arm into Bella's and insisted with big golden eyes that the bride had to go throw the bouquet of flowers. This idea didn't seem to appeal to Bella but she allowed herself to be lead away and I wasn't upset that our conversation had been cut short.

That was the moment we decided to leave.

When the car pulled up to the curb there had still not been a word spoken and I stared up at the house noting that all the lights were out. Diana had trusted me enough to not wait up for me.

Jacob's mask slipped. Behind it his eyes were bloodshot, glistening with tears he was refusing to shed, his mouth was drawn tight, jaw clenched, and his shoulders squared stiffly against the back of the seat. There were no words to break the heavy atmosphere, neither of us had the will to find them. I leaned over and pulled his key from the ignition.

Inside I made a quick call to Billy, leaving a message that his son was safe and alive. Then I returned to the sitting room where I had left him. The lights were still off and I stood in the doorway staring at his shadowy form on the sofa. He had curled on his side, arms wrapped tight about his middle as if he was trying desperately to hold himself together. My heart swelled and I wondered that it hadn't burst from my chest. I swallowed roughly, the familiar sting at the base of my nose, and it was then that I understood what this evening had been.

It was not a wedding; it was a funeral. He was morning her death.

Quiet as I could I crept over to him, slipping off my pumps. I unlaced the smart shoes he'd borrowed from Billy and placed them on the floor. His eyes were large, dark, glittering in the gloom, childlike. For a moment I was reminded of when my baby brother George broke his favourite toy, the one he slept curled up with every night and wouldn't part with even for mum to wash it. Once he had cried himself hoarse he had peered up at me with those bright wet eyes asking if there was any chance it could be mended, put back together again so he could love it like before.

Even though Jacob was contracted in on him-self I cradled his head with ease and slipped under resting him back on my lap. In an instant his fingers latched into the fabric of my dress as if afraid I would leave. There was no way I was going anywhere. My hands brushed over the inky strands of hair that spilled across my lap the way my mother had once. Comfort. Reassurance. I'm right here. Not going anywhere. Eventually his breathing slowed, eyes fluttering shut, and those tightly clenched fists loosened. The tips of my fingers traced over the arch of his brows, the rise of his cheekbones, the bridge of his nose. I leaned softly down and let my lips capture the cool tear as it trailed the hot skin of his cheek.

We stayed like that until the light of dawn filtered in through the lace-covered window. I awoke with no memory of having slept and I drifted off again almost instantly, Jacob's muffled snores a strangely sweet lullaby.

It was the front door closing that finally brought me back from my dreams. I blinked in the morning light feeling like a mole with my first taste of sun. Jacob slept on. I finger combed his messy hair back from his face, smiling a little at the way his lips had pouted out during the night.

As the haze of sleep drifted away I came to the heart-warming realisation that Diana must have left to do the shopping she had been muttering about yesterday. She must have passed the sitting room. She had to have seen us. She let us be. It was then that I was truly grateful of her quiet wisdom, her calmness, and her peace.

While Jacob was taking a shower I rummaged around the kitchen to find something I could cook up. There wasn't a lot. I managed to discover some bacon, sausages, eggs, bread, tomatoes, and mushrooms. English breakfast it was – or had to be because that was all I was skilled enough to make edible. The pan was set on the heat and the eggs whisked up. I switched on the radio. Silence had its place but this was not it. Not now.

Music filtered out of the speakers and I found myself humming, then singing along with it as I worked. There were eggshells in the bowl I had to scoop out. The sausages burnt on one side more than the other. I got hit with spitting oil frequently. The toast was the all that came out perfectly golden and that was only because Diana so efficiently set up the toaster.

I was hurriedly flinging the tomatoes and mushrooms onto a plate when I heard the bottom stair creak and I spun around, pan still in hand, to see a slightly bedraggled looking Jacob in the doorway. The dark circles under his eyes were still there and the slump of his shoulders was a telling sign of his grief, but he managed to pull a smile.

"I made breakfast," I said proudly.

He peered around me, eyebrow arched at the plate piled high with blackened food. "Is it safe? Kind of looks like someone already ate it."

"Excuse me!" I said in outrage, putting the pan in the sink and sliding the plate onto the table. "Of course it's edible!" Did he not realise that I had abandoned my feminist ways to slave over this stove for 20 minutes just for him? He lifted a piece of charcoal that had once been bacon and used it to stir the pulp of tomato and mushrooms. "Well, ok, so maybe…" I conceded, folding my arms across my chest, a little sore. "It was the thought that counts. I haven't done it in a long time so it was bound to be a bit off. My, uh, well, my dad taught me when I was little. He was much better. It's the only thing I can cook – or could cook."

Jacob, obviously noting the bruised tone of my voice, quickly shoved a piece of toast into his mouth and made overly dramatic appreciative noises, rubbing his stomach and closing his eyes. "It's good toast."

I glared at him. "Three cheers for the toaster!"

He laughed. "Go get showered, Alex. I'll wash up down here."

"You need to eat." I protested when he strode across to me and placed a warm hand to the small of my back, guiding me out of the room towards the stairs.

"And I will. I'm taking you out for breakfast."

Oh. "Cool."

The café Jacob drove us to was just outside of the town, towards the Olympic national park. Supposedly they served the best pancakes in Clallam County. Which was why it was getting so busy and the waitresses all looked about ready to shoot the next person who wanted a refill. So we settled into the thickly padded seats on either side of the table and placed our orders swiftly. Pancakes.

"Favourite colour," I said.

He grinned, leaning back in the seat, coolly confident. "Purple."

"How did you know that?"

"Easy peasy," he waved a hand. "Your toes were painted purple on the beach that night, and you've worn at least one item of clothing that colour every time I've seen you."

"Apart from yesterday," I pointed out just because I couldn't let him be so completely right. "You are scarily observant. I think I should find that creepy."

The suggestion didn't seem to bother him. "What about mine?" he encouraged with a smile.

I smirked. "Black?"

His eyes rolled to the ceiling then back to me. "You're so funny, Alexandra. Really, my sides are splitting."

"Alright!" I said. "No need for the sarcasm. If you could paint your nails it would help."

"Red."

I started rearranging the ketchup packets in the holder. Separating the salt, pepper, salad cream, and mayonnaise. "Flower."

He snorted, puffing out his chest. "I'm a man. We don't like flowers. We like bugs and cars and rolling around in mud."

"Sorry, did I just offend your masculinity?"

"That's alright woman." He goaded. "You can iron my clothes later to make up for it." My mouth fell open in preparation to berate him after such sexist language when he jumped in with a grin. "What's your favourite flower?"

Eyes still narrowed into a glare. "Oleander."

He laughed. "For real? I would have guessed Orchids."

"Nether," I shook my head, "its actually: Yellow Tulips."

That surprised him. "Huh. Ok." Folding the paper napkin into triangles he said: "Meerkats."

"What?" I glanced up from the neatly ordered sachets.

He caught me off guard and it pleased him. "When you go to the zoo the animals you really want to see are the Meerkats."

"Cause they're so hilarious with their twitchy noses!" I nodded.

"And the way they scramble up on their hind legs, peering about."

"Yeah! The babies are the cutest ever. I loved Timon from the Lion King."

Jacob grinned. "They are the funniest animals."

"Apart from Lamas," I pointed out.

He thought about it for a moment then flashed his white teeth in a smile. "Yeah, you're right. Lamas and Meerkats."

The waitress came over and slid our drinks onto the tabletop, my tea splashed up the sides of the cup like a tidal wave. Droplets of Jacob's coffee hit the clean surface, black/brown against the light blue. "Food will be out in a minute," she said as she wandered off back behind the counter.

"Thanks," I muttered, pouring sugar and milk into my drink and stirring. Regarding the boy across the table from me shrewdly I asked: "Furthest from home you've ever been."

"Canada," was the short reply. I arched a brow in question, there was obviously more to it than that. He chewed his lip in deliberation, and then sighed in defeat. "Alright, alright. Did Leah tell you that I ran away?" I shook my head. "Well, it was when I first got that wedding invite." I tensed, oops; this was probably not something he wanted to share right now. "I was angry, and hurt, and humiliated, about the whole thing. So I phased and ran."

"All the way to Canada?" That was nuts.

He shrugged with a rueful grin. "I decided that being human… always feeling so much…" He broke off and started again. "There is a legend that tells of how when Taha Aki's spirit wife died he became a wolf again and never turned back, became at one with the animal inside. I wanted to do that - to leave myself behind. Does that make sense?"

To not feel so much all the time? Yeah, that made perfect sense. The spirit wives and animals? Not really. "Yes it does," I said, "not the wolf part. But the trying to out run your pain? Yeah, I get that. Did it work?"

He was watching me with those dark eyes, warm, penetrating. When I was with Jacob it felt for the first time that someone was actually seeing me and that alone was terrifying. Now that I was beginning to get used to it I almost enjoyed it. "No. Not really. Turned out there are some things you just have to face. But the scenery was nice."

I chuckled at that. "Yeah? You eat rabbits and deer?"

He nodded. "Uh huh. Couldn't wait to get back to Emily's cooking."

"I'll bet."

"What about you? Is this the farthest from home you've ever been?"

"Yes." I took a sip of my tea. "When I was little we had a house in the south of France. Complete with vineyards, sunflowers, and a crumbling farmhouse. It was the thing to do then. Buy a cheap old building and do it up all bohemian like. My mum was a French teacher as well, so she already loved the country. That's where we always went on holiday and school trips."

"So you speak French then?" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"Oui!" I answered. "For the summers that we spent down there I wasn't allowed to talk in English. Mum wanted me to be bilingual."

"That's mean."

"Yeah, but it worked. I'm not fluent or anything, but I can hold a conversation."

He whistled. "Impressive. I sucked at Spanish and French."

"What about Quileute?"

He dismissed it with a hand wave. "Yeah, but that's only useful around the rez."

I rolled my eyes. "Sounds pretty cool to me."

The waitress weaved around a pair of bickering children and over to our table. She set the two huge plates of pancakes down and slapped the bill under a maple syrup bottle. "Enjoy," she grumbled as she left.

"Wow, that's a lot of pancakes." My eyes widened in delight.

"Yup," Jacob agreed.

I glanced up at him with a wicked grin. "Race you."

He looked amused at the idea I could ever attempt to beat him at eating. He probably had a point. In fact, he did have a point. Still. "Count of three…"

"One…" I picked up my fork.

"Two…" he spun the plate into the appropriate position.

I shoved a pancake into my mouth and mumbled around the food: "Three!"

"Cheater!" Jacob accused as his first cake went in whole.

"It's my handicap!" I defended.

He snorted. "This isn't golf."

The rest of the argument was lost in the chewing, and the focused drizzling of maple syrup over our food.

Jacob won. But I didn't really mind because he was smiling and the warm sunlight was chasing the shadows from his eyes.