a/n: Hey there. Remember me? Absence makes the heart grow fonder, yeah? Maybe not.

Yeah this is still going on, just maybe a little slower than usual. I am so excited for some post-Canon scenes I wrote a long time back that I have no excuse to not get there. So no worries.

Love to the ladies of t20s. Love out to the folks here at ff who keep holding on. Love to the FB group gang.

Thanks and love to Crysross and Bririzzle for being so awesome there's not a word that really to describe them properly. I'll invent one now: awestacular. Or something. Besty betas a girl could get.

The song for this chapter is Like Lions by The Queen Killing Kings. I hope this isn't too much work, but if you're interested: www[dot]myspace[dot]com/thequeenkillingkings (it's the last song in the list they have there)

Or I'm posting a link to an outdoor show they did a while back, but the quality's not as good.

Okay. Enough. Onward.

Today I am Team Will

Part 11

Maybe We Were Never in Kansas to Begin

When I was fifteen years old, Ava, Will, and I went camping alone for the first time. Usually Dad took us for a trip during the summer, but that year he had too many meetings, and he had to cancel. We thought it wasn't going to happen at all, but Will managed to convince him that if we didn't go far, we would be safe. It took a very long conversation and promising to keep within a mile radius.

We set camp near a stream somewhere east of our house. Will got the fire going and Ava and I took all of five minutes doing our autotent set up. When nightfall came, and the hotdogs were black enough for consumption, Ava convinced Will he should tell us a scary story.

"Hmm…" he said with a full mouth. After he swallowed he added, "Scary story?" Another bite. "Hmm…"

The firelight flickered. Will's face was orange with the glow.

"Well?" I asked.

He held up his hand and closed his eyes. "One second. I just want to make sure I get it right."

Ava shifted in her little collapsible chair. The fire snapped.

Will took a deep breath. "In year 2020, there lived a man on the edge of town named Allister Brown."

"If this is like the one you told me about the man from Nantucket—" I said.

"No." Will shushed me. "Allister Brown was a weird fellow who lived alone. He was in his late twenties; he had no family and no friends, always kept to himself. The only thing he loved was his house and a giant old oak tree that grew in the front yard. He had a shop on Main Street where he sold antique things. Jewelry, watches, clocks…you name the old piece of junk, he had it.

"One morning, before town open, three guys from the football team came to town with masks. It was senior prank season, and they decided to paint the town red…literally. Across each of the storefronts they scrawled random obscenities, pictures, symbols…

"When they got to Allister's shop, the lead guy, Bernie, thought it would be fun to personalize his handiwork. He wrote, 'Go home, Freak,' across the front door and smashed in the windows. This had him laughing all the way home.

"When the store owners came in and found all the damage, they decided to hold a meeting. Of course, Bernie and his two friends couldn't resist sitting outside town hall, listening in through a window. They smiled, proud of themselves as they heard how long it would take them to clean up and repair everything. They chuckled at the shopkeepers' pleas to the police to find who had done it."

Will smiled. He set the rest of his hot dog down on his plate. "But Bernie was cocky. He wanted to see the looks on their faces, so he pulled himself up to look through the window. When he did, he wasn't quite as inconspicuous as he hoped. While the bulk of the crowd had their eyes trained forward on the mayor addressing the group, one set was looking right at him. Allister's dark brown eyes were staring him down.

"Bernie freaked out. He ran, with the other two close on his heels. They got all the way back to his house before they realized no one was following. Overactive imaginations all around.

"Through the week, Bernie couldn't forget the way Allister had looked at him. With knowing hatred. With fierce determination. To do what, Bernie didn't know, but he was convinced that Allister knew and it was only a matter of time before they were caught.

"It was that night that he first heard the noises outside his bedroom window – a thick sniffing sound, like something big was out looking for dinner. When he went to see what it was, there was nothing outside. But the next night, it happened again. And then again the next night. It happened every night around midnight: the creature would come, sniff around the bushes outside his house, and when he would go to the window to see what it was, it would run away, with only the rustling leaves behind it.

"As the days went on, Bernie's buddies tried to convince him that they were in the clear. But he refused to go into town, even though they told him there was nothing to worry about. He spent all of his free time locked up in his house and no one could get him to do anything.

"Two weeks later, Bernie and his friends were headed to prom. It was the first time Bernie had gone anywhere that wasn't school or home – they were holding it at the town hall, and it took a lot of convincing to get him to go.

"So Bernie, his two friends, and their dates drove up to the hall – this was back in the good ol' days when people were reasonable about driving ages, you see…" Will sighed. He poked the embers with his hotdog stick.

I rolled my eyes. "Will—"

"Anyways, Bernie tried to have a good time, just like his friends said he would. But the problem was, in the noise of the crowd and the blaring music and the endless faces that all ran together, all he could see everywhere he turned was that set of brown eyes looking back at him. He knew it was probably just his imagination. He knew it was stupid, but he found himself weaving through the room, searching for a bit of space, a corner to sit in where he wasn't so surrounded.

"He decided to step outside for fresh air. I think that was perhaps his greatest mistake. I know I would have been smarter than that. But we've all got to have a fatal flaw, right?" Will laughed. "The eyes were waiting for him, you see. He peered into the edge of the forest and saw the glint shining, staring him down.

"'Hello!' he shouted, 'Anyone there?' But the only reply was a wet rustling noise and a thick panting that had him backing up toward the door. 'This isn't funny, guys. I know it's you.' He didn't really know it was them. Because, of course, it wasn't them.

"He knew those eyes. They haunted his every nightmare. But when the eyes came closer, when the footsteps walked their way out of the forest, the eyes were not set in the familiar face of Allister Brown. They were a piece of a new nightmare, a giant brown wolf with razor teeth glistening, raised hackles, and a low, rumbling growl.

"Bernie tried to run. Who wouldn't? But he wasn't quick enough, and the moment he turned for the hall, the creature sprang. It landed on Bernie, claws first, tearing into his flesh, ripping him apart. The creature didn't eat him though. It didn't kill him. It left him there, mangled beyond the point of recognition. The creature's growl turned to a throaty laugh. As Bernie rolled to his side to call out for help, he heard one lone word come drifting from the forest…'Freak.'

"They say it's still out there, somewhere, in these same forests we camp in tonight. They say it never leaves, that it lives forever, hunting the unsuspecting high schoolers…"

***

"Next stop: thirty-three – the Quileute reservation border," the rail voice said.

I moved to stand, swallowing my nerves. "I guess that's us, eh?"

"Um." Ethan sighed. "Not quite."

"Is Bella's house further down the line?" I asked, sitting back down on the seat. The rail picked up again as no one else moved to exit.

Ethan shook his head. "No. It's not that… It's – well – she won't be at her house. It's kind of pointless to try her there."

We had come so far, and after all the dramatics back at his house, he wanted to try this now? Really? "Ethan, if you're trying to steer me away from doing this, you should just tell me now. Like I said before, I can just get someone else to—"

"Stop it," he said. "I'm not trying to mislead you. She won't be at Jake's house. She'll be at the Cullens' house." He shook his head.

"Oh. Okay."

Ethan's eyes stared blankly at the back of the seat in front of us. I wondered how he knew exactly where Bella would be. I had always figured he was barely friends with her, just enough for the relationship to be a nuisance in Ava's life. But maybe I was wrong, maybe we all were, save for Ava. Was Ethan Powell really that guy? Was he some kind of secret womanizer?

He ran a hand through his hair. It had a patch a little off to the right that stuck straight up in the air, while the rest of it was dried flat against his head from the rain. His jeans had spots on them, leftover from the storm. His shoes were barely on his feet, dirty and torn at the heel.

I chuckled to myself. No. Not a womanizer.

"You seem to know a lot about Bella," I said.

"Are we really going to talk about this?" he replied, snapping. "You came to me for help, remember?"

I couldn't help but smile a bit. "I know. I'm not judging. I'm just…surprised. I think you've been holding out on us a little."

He huffed. "Yeah. Well. Like you said. We're friends."

"And have you been to the Cullens' house before?" I asked.

"Once," he said. He didn't elaborate.

Which left me to wonder why.

The rail voice spoke up, catching my ear. "Next stop: thirty-two. First Beach."

For me, those last two words would never disappear into the static of regular noise. No matter where I was, or where I was headed, they would always call out to me and make me—

"You seem to know a lot about Seth," Ethan said.

The glare I gave him was automatic. It wasn't any of his business, and I couldn't help the instinctual defense. But as I stared at him I realized I was no better than he. My secrets were no better than his.

"Yes. I suppose I do."

He smiled gently. "Have you been holding out on us a little?"

"Most definitely," I replied. I turned to look out the window. "But you knew something was going on. Everyone did. The thing with Logan at the garage yesterday…"

"Are you dating him?"

I wanted to laugh, but I didn't. Everyone else thought the same. "Who? Logan? Of course not."

"What about Seth?"

I looked back at him, expecting some kind of mockery in his expression. There was none. "Am I dating Seth?" I had to supply the sarcasm myself. "Yeah. Right."

Ethan nodded and let my answer roll around in his head for a minute. Then he asked the question I had been waiting for him to ask all day. "What was all that with Logan? What did he want to talk about?"

Of all the people the world could offer me to open up to, Ethan Powell was the choice? "He was mad at me for what I said to Seth last time I was up there."

"What did you say?" he asked.

"This, I cannot tell you."

He smiled – this wild, obnoxious grin that belonged on a crazy person. "Why? Are you keeping secrets for him? Big mythical secrets?"

The flash of his teeth and his bravado sent a chill through me.

He knew.

But then he was laughing and I realized it was just a joke. I took a shuddering breath. "Ha ha. Very funny."

He stared at me. His face went pale, suddenly drawn and serious. "How long have you – um – known Seth? I mean…did you meet at the – um – in January…"

I wasn't sure how much longer I could take this particular line of dialogue. I shifted in my seat. My heart drummed out a nervous fill – improvising a beat that certainly wasn't natural. "We should talk about something else."

"No," he said. "Wait. Aubree. I have to know something. You have to answer a question for me."

I looked down; anything was better than looking at him. "I can't make any promises."

"Do you…know?"

Do I know? I know a lot of things.

"I mean…you know Seth. You know Logan. And I'm guessing you've met the other guys down there. Do you…"

I know about American history. I know some things about the indigenous plant life around the Pacific Northwest. I know a word that makes Will laugh uncontrollably every time he hears it. I know Ava's middle name, though no one else does. I know…

"Do I…what, Ethan?"

I know about some guys who spend their free time running 'round on all fours in fur.

He sighed. "Nothing. Never mind."

"Okay."

But the real question was…did he know?

Because that would change everything.

Above most things, I wanted nothing more than someone to talk to, because the insanity of everything was just too much to handle alone. With this, I wouldn't care that Ethan Powell was the choice. To just have someone, anyone to talk to at all, it would be enough.

My eyes drifted over to him. His head leaned back against the seat. His eyes were closed, his eyebrows turned up in some kind of personal pain.

"Ethan?" I said. "You okay?"

His eyelids fluttered open. "Yeah. I'm fine."

"You look a little railsick."

"I'm not," he replied.

"Okay…"

He leaned back against the seat again. His eyes shut just as they had before. The pained expression returned.

Maybe he knew about Logan. The two of them certainly seemed like friends. I got the impression from Seth that theirs was not a secret that they just spread around town to mere acquaintances. He had warned me not to tell anyone, though I didn't really want to. I wondered how many citizens of Forks were in on the whole thing. For how long? He made it sound like he wasn't the first like him, generations gone by, wolves among men for all these years…

…inspiring scary campfire tales.

They were probably a bad thing for Forks, a small clan of killers that fed on the innocent townsfolk.

And all I wanted was to bring one back.

Good one, Aubree.

I was probably next on the menu. I had sent one running, and the ones left behind were none too pleased about it.

I just…didn't want to be alone in my fear.

Maybe I wasn't.

"Um, Ethan?"

His eyes snapped open. He stared at the ceiling, a bitter scowl on his face. "What?"

It was all so crazy. "Sorry. I just…"

"What, Aubree?" he pressed.

"Do you…do you…know?" I could feel my face burning.

His face went blank. He sat up straighter. "Do I know what?"

Too crazy. Too crazy. "Nothing. It's stupid."

We stared at each other, nothing but questions in our eyes that wouldn't ask themselves. We were certainly not going to do the work.

"You don't know. You couldn't," he muttered with a chuckle.

"I know some things," I replied. "I'm not sure we're talking about the same thing though. I don't see how we could be."

The chuckle died away. "Because it's too bizarre?"

"It's ludicrous." I nodded. "Because it's too…unbelievable?"

He joined in the nodding. We leaned toward each other. "Unreal. Impossible."

My voice hushed, falling into the drama of the conversation. "And when they told you, you thought they were all crazy?"

"I thought I was crazy," he said, also whispering. "But I saw it. With my own eyes. I saw her, him, them…I saw them…"

He saw them? "Seth? Did you see Seth turn into a…?"

"No," he replied. "Never Seth. I just met him at the Cullens' house."

"Oh," I said, trying to figure out how he was connected to it all. "But you knew about…"

He nodded again. "Him. And Logan. And Trip. And Jonah. And Jake…"

"Jake?" I asked. "Bella's brother? Does that mean she's a…?" I couldn't get the word out to save my life. I wasn't going to be the first one to say it aloud and make it real.

"No. She's the other kind."

There were others? "Other ones?"

"Never mind." He turned away, crossing his arms. "We shouldn't be talking about this."

"Please," I said, pleading. "Talk to me about this. I don't think I can keep it in anymore. I…need someone to tell me I'm not going crazy. And that I'm still safe at home. And that they're not going to come for me."

"Aubree, they're not going to hurt you. They're not bad."

The small measure of comfort his words brought were almost enough. Almost. "But they're…I mean how can they be good?"

"They just are. Some things in this world still have yet to be discovered. I think they prefer it that way. I can't imagine it would be very helpful for people to know about them. I can't imagine people would understand. I mean, do you?"

It was as simple as that? It couldn't be. "Oh." But with the way I had reacted…with what I had assumed about him, and I was supposed to be his friend…"Yeah. I guess…I guess you're right. He told me that I could leave and he would understand. He would leave me alone."

Ethan nodded. "So you have two choices then. You can get off the rail at the next stop and…forget about all of this. Walk away. It never happened. You were never here. Go on with your life and let it fade away as a bad dream should.

"Or you can stay on. You can come with me and we can try to see if we're at all helpful to them. But you have to accept it. You have to be okay with it. Because I learned the hard way that if you let it, it will overwhelm you. And it's not a pretty picture. Believe me."

He was right.

"Yeah," I said. "Okay."

The rail voice spoke. "Next stop: twelve. Olympic National Park."

I held my breath as the machine came to a stop. The doors whooshed open. A few people at the front of the rail grabbed their belongings and walked around to the exit. As the last footsteps went from the stair to the gravel and the door whooshed closed, I realized there was no way I could get off that rail. I had already made this particular decision a long time ago.

The day I woke up in the arms of a wolf.

And felt safer for it.

"Welcome to Forks," Ethan said. "I hope you fare better than I."

Thoughts? Questions? Comments?