A/N:

Lots of End Notes! Please read once you finish the chapter!

Song for the Chapter: "Hide and Seek" by Imogen Heap.


Chapter 13 – Before The Storm

"First Witch: When shall we three meet again
In thunder, lightning, or in rain?
Second Witch: When the hurlyburly's done,
When the battle's lost and won. "

William Shakespeare, Macbeth.

The rest of that conversation was short and bewildering enough to get muffled by the sound of all the voices around me, curious bystanders, and then the loud siren from the ambulance outside. I didn't have the chance to replay every word in my head from our brief interaction because my mind urged me to keep all my focus on the present situation.

"Female, Whitlock, first name Mary Alice. Twenty-eight years old..." Repeated the Paramedic next to me while reading Alice's driver's license. Another paramedic checked her vitals, where my friend still lay on the ground.

After quickly immobilizing her, they proceeded to the ambulance, where I followed. I hadn't had the opportunity to call Rosalie yet. I would have to wait until we got to the hospital.

Alice started to wake up in the ambulance, where they gave her some kind of injection. She was disoriented and the oxygen mask they put on her face prevented her from speaking.

I gripped her hand tightly, and I wanted to make sure she saw my face, but I wasn't sure she understood any of it yet. I just didn't want her to feel like she was lost when she opened her eyes. Or alone.

It only took Rosalie twenty minutes after my phone call to get to the emergency room at the NYU Langone Medical Center. I saw her running through the doors as I once again, tried contacting Jasper without much success. She hugged me as soon as she spotted me, and once again that day, I had to fight back more tears.

"She's okay now. She's sleeping." I assured her, in a calm voice. Trying to keep my emotions in control.

"She hadn't had a seizure in over three years. We all thought it was well under control." Rosalie whispered.

"She stopped taking her medication. That's what her medical records said." I told her.

We sat down on the white couch at the cold reception area. I held my face between my fingers with my elbows resting on my legs. So many thoughts I struggled to block. So many voices I pushed back to the silence of my memories.

"Have you talked to Jasper yet?" Rosalie asked.

"No. His phone is off. I'm gonna try his office when I get the number from Alice's in-laws. I also tried calling her father but his phone was going straight to voice mail."

"So her family doesn't know yet?"

"I called him." I looked up to face Rosalie. "I called Edward."

She waited in silence for me to continue.

"He's on the next flight here. He's contacting Carlisle and Esme right now."

Rosalie rested her palm over my hand, looking straight into my eyes. We both sighed. My friend's silence let me know she understood that wasn't an easy thing for me to do. But we both knew this also wasn't about me. Or Edward. It was about our Alice.

That's when I spotted one of the doctors walking through the hallway. We both stood up and I marched towards the man in the white jacket holding a clipboard.

"Doctor!" I called. "I'm Isabella Swan. I brought Alice Whitlock in, about an hour ago. How is she?"

The doctor looked down at his clipboard before quickly scanning both Rosalie and I in odd scrutiny.

"Ms. Swan, you said? Are you a member of the family?"

"No... I... We're her best friends." I stuttered, but including Rosalie in the conversation. "I was with Alice when she... collapsed." That last part struggled to come out of my mouth.

"I see. Mrs. Whitlock is stable for now. We're running some tests on her, but I can't give you further information until one her family members is present. I'm sorry." He said in a courteous but in a clinical tone.

I sighed in chagrin and tried peeking over her chart.

"So she can't go home yet?" I asked.

"No, she has to stay. I'm sorry." The doctor answered.

"Is the baby okay?" Rosalie asked, sort out of the blue.

We stood anxiously for an answer – any kind of positive feedback – and the doctor looked as us confused. He browsed Alice's chart again, flipping through the pages in what felt like the longest five seconds.

"I'm sorry, what?" He asked.

"The baby. Alice is pregnant, correct?" I reformulated Rosalie's question.

The doctor pressed his lips and shook his head.

"I can't give you any medical information until her family arrives, like I said. But from the blood tests we got back, I can tell you Mrs. Whitlock is not pregnant." He said in a low voice that was clear enough to stir the necessary emotions we struggled to keep beneath the surface.

"I recommend you go home for now, these tests may take a while and you can come back once a family member arrives." The doctor walked away before we could say anything else. We stood there speechless for a moment. Both trying to digest all the information at once.

"I'm not leaving, we need to try to get another doctor to talk to us." I said firmly.

"It's no use, Bella. The doctor is right, they're not authorized to tell us much until Ed-" She paused and rephrased it. "Until he gets here." She carefully continued. "You should go home and get some rest, take a shower. You look tired. I'll wait here and try calling Jasper again."

"I'm not tired!" I replied.

"Fine. Then just go home to get some fresh air. Grab Alice some cozy blankets and a comfy pillow, since she's gonna have to be here for a while." She insisted. Rosalie had been working her persuasion skills for years. It always worked on me.

I just nodded in acceptance, sighing and showing her she won that argument.

She gave me a warm smile. "I promise to call you if I hear anything. And I'll be here when you come back."

We hugged goodbye and I walked outside.

In the cab on my way home I finally had some alone time to think straight. Rosalie was right. Despite all my worry, my fears and the adrenaline from the events of today, I was starting to feel tired. I barely got any sleep the night before, and I knew the moment the crash from all this stress arrived, it would hit me hard.

But I wasn't ready for a nap just yet. I would go home, retrieve some things for Alice, take a shower and later head back to the hospital. While Rosalie was around, it would be easier to avoid Edward's presence. We could take turns with Alice and that hospital was big enough to accommodate both of us while still remaining in separate areas. Both of us in the same building. Even in a city like New York, that area felt suddenly relatively small.

When I re-entered my apartment, the first thing I touched when I dropped my keys down was the picture I meant to put away last week but didn't.

********

One week before Alice came to visit us in New York, I received a letter from my father.

As I came home that Wednesday from a meeting with Jason Jenks, I followed my usual routine. I dropped my keys down on the corner table by the foyer and picked up my mail. While I entered my living room and took off my jacket and scarf, I browsed through all my correspondence. There were the bills, the event invitations, newsletters and then a thick envelope with a familiar sloppy script. The sender was Charlie Swan. I smiled when I recognized his handwriting because I found it amusing how my father was one of the few people left on the planet to still send actual handwritten letters.

In the letter, he reminded me how Thanksgiving was coming soon – only three weeks away. Charlie always urged me to come home for the Holidays and I often hesitated, making up some lame excuse. I liked to overdecorate my apartment and send him pictures in a feeble attempt at luring him into coming to New York instead of making me return to Forks. That small town always brought me bittersweet memories. And reminiscing around the Holidays is a well-known recipe for depression and melancholy.

Like his guilt trip in form of a letter wasn't enough, Charlie attached some old pictures this time. Actual pictures taken with an actual camera – not a digital one. Back in the day when people still sent films to get developed at the local Thriftway.

Some were from my high school graduation, with Alice, my father and I. Some were with my mom, when she went to visit me in Forks when I came home from France. And some of them didn't belong to me. They were pictures I actually had never seen before. Jacob and I posed together on the beach at La Push. I remember that day. It was the Summer of 2004. I was seventeen, Jacob sixteen.

I didn't have to read the caption on the reverse side of the photograph to see who they belonged to all these years. I could smell that very familiar scent of pine, wood and smoke.

'I helped Jacob pack over the Summer. He just moved to a bigger house. We sat down one afternoon and looked through old pictures. He wanted me to have these and so I thought you'd want to see them too.' My father wrote on the back.

I thought it was all very ironic how I had been taking this trip down memory lane over the last couple of months in Dr. Meyer's office and now my father just granted me with a show-and-tell.

But that scent from the old pictures followed me as I took a shower and tried to escape, even if for a few moments.

Pine. Wood. Smoke. Some memories hurt. And the truth hurts. That fateful Saturday when I woke up in Jacob Black's floor – hungover like nobody's business -, truth would hurt more than the bump I felt on my knees as I hit the ground. It would hurt more than the thumping in my head from all the excess from the previous night. I wish I could've forgotten. But I didn't.

For a while the memory loss from the heavy drinking served me well. There was only oblivion – and a million questions. No answers. Only fear.

The morning I opened my eyes and realized I was in Jake's bedroom, reality didn't want to greet me in the face yet. The sun was shining brightly outside – something that didn't happen very often in Forks. A painful foreshadowing that the world moved at a slightly different pace and perhaps, I even moved in the opposite direction.

I was confused. I wanted to cry while Jacob still slept peacefully. Like a child who wakes up in the middle of the night during a sleepover at a friend's house, I got strangely homesick.

I finally composed myself from the ground, stood up and sighed in relief when I realized that although I was barefoot, and my shirt was untucked, I was still fully clothed - unlike Jacob. I leaned over where his bare chest and back were sprawled across a twin bed that looked way too small for a man his size and poked him on the shoulder.

"Jake..." I whispered. But his stiff muscles never moved an inch. "Jacob! Wake up!" I insisted.

He had his back to me. He didn't seem at all bothered by all my poking.

"Jacob!" I raised my voice. He finally made a slight move.

"What?" He mumbled.

"Jake, wake up! I gotta leave, but before, we gotta talk."

While Jacob moved around slowly but surely, I searched for my shoes under his bed and between the pile of clothes that laid around his tiny bedroom. I couldn't find the rest of my belongings or my cell phone. Damn it. My stupid phone! I had left it on his dining room table the day before. Its battery was probably dead by now. I wondered if Billy Black was home to witness my walk of shame. Or if Charlie had already sent a search party after his missing daughter.

I took a deep breath before creating the courage to slowly open Jacob's bedroom door and peeking out in the living room prior to making my grand entrance. Luckily for me, no one seemed to be around. The house was silent, except for Jacob's mumbling unintelligible words, probably cursing me under his breath for waking him up. Like I cared.

My phone and my wallet both sat still on the same table where I put it to rest that Friday afternoon. Still no sign of my shoes. I quickly flipped the phone open searching for any sign of life, and to my surprise, although the low battery sign blinked convulsively on the screen, I could see there were four missed calls and new voice mail. My heart skipped a beat and I scrolled down to look at the log.

Two of them were from "Unknown Number" registered at six pm - only one hour after I had abandoned my cell phone last night. The first week Edward had called me from Brazil, all calls came from "Unknown Number"'s . I shook my head in denial. Edward had finally been trying to reach me and I couldn't even call him back.

The next missed call was from Charlie's cell phone. Sadly, my father's possible worry was very low on my priority list at that moment. The final missed call was from a number I didn't recognize: area code "305". I had no idea who that could be. I was still unfamiliar with all Washington State area codes, but that didn't seem like it came from any of our surrounding counties.

I prayed the battery life on my phone would bear with me for just another moment until I checked my voice mail in hopes there were any messages from Edward.

My hands were sweating as I pushed the buttons and listened intently.

"Your mailbox is full. Please delete stored messages so that new ones can be received. You have four new voice messages:

"First voice message received Friday, August 27th , six-o-two pm:

'Bella, I tried calling you earlier this week but we got a bad storm and we lost all phone reception in the island. I'm calling from Rio. I'm at the airport, on my way back. I'll try calling you later.'"

The voice was unmistakable. All my blood seemed to rush down from my head to my extremities. All this time, I had been angry at Edward for not calling me, and it never occurred to me he could be experiencing bad weather conditions and other adversities that kept him from reaching me.

I pushed the button to delete that message and listened to the next.

"Next voice message received Friday, August 27th, seven twenty-three pm:

'Bells, it's Charlie. Just wondering where you been. You're probably at Jake's with the kids. I'll try calling Billy. Have fun. Later.'"

My dad's message was short and sweet. Billy probably explained where I'd been. Hopefully leaving details such as "In Jacob's bedroom" out of the conversation.

The constant beeping from the low battery signal was exponentially annoying and felt like a time-bomb. I rushed through my messages.

"Next voice message, received Friday, August 27th eight-thirty pm:

'Bella, I know you must be angry that I haven't called, but I hope you can see me when I come home. I'm landing in Miami tomorrow morning. I... My flight is boarding now, I'll call you when I land.'"

Edward's voice sounded distressed. His tone was strange, like there was something lurking underneath and it worried me. Guilt suddenly took over my thoughts. Edward thought I was upset for him not calling me. I truly was, but for the wrong reasons.

"Next voice message, received Saturday, August 28th, three-fourteen am:

'Bella, I know it's early, I landed in Miami and lost my phone in Brazil... I need to see--'"

Silence. That was it. When I held the phone in front of me to push the buttons once again I saw it was suddenly and completely off. I cursed at it, as my heart skipped several beats. Edward was getting closer to me by the minute. And I was closer than ever to finding out that I may or may not have cheated on him. In my heart, I already felt like a cheater.

When I didn't hear any sounds from Jacob's room, I exhaled deeply to recompose myself and took the liberty of going through Billy Black's kitchen cabinet. I made Jacob and I a fresh pot of coffee in order to wake both of us up. Well, him, actually. I was already up and running. I needed that kid to sober up from the night before and give me a ride home as fast as possible. But more importantly, I needed him to fess up and tell me exactly what went down last night, since my stupid drunk self couldn't remember a thing.

I stepped back into his room, putting on my most assertive face, ready for the questioning. I wasn't surprised to see Jake had gone right back to sleep. Putting the coffee cups down by his computer desk, I went back to poking and shaking Jacob.

"Wake the hell up, Jake! Seriously. Time to get up!"

I'm not an orderly, obsessed-with-cleaning type of person, but looking around at Jacob's messy room just made me want to start picking up his random pile of clothing scattered around and folding every single item back in place. Jacob's mom left him and his father when he was little. I could see the result of that right in front of me.

"Stop picking up my shit, Bella. You're not my mother!" He mumbled.

"Oh, good! You're finally up." I said in a sarcastic tone. But then I relaxed. "We need to talk."

He raised an eyebrow and watched me curiously, almost sketching a grin as I sat down.

"So, I guess it's safe to say we both got pretty wasted last night."

With his arms crossed, he simply nodded.

"Here. Take some coffee." I handed him one of the mugs.

"I hate coffee." He replied, making a face. But the coffee smelled divine and I know it was inviting.

"Jake, what happened? What did we do?" I whispered.

"Oh!" He snorted. "The classic 'did we...?' morning-after question!"

"Jacob Black, you are sixteen years old, you're not old enough to know what the 'classic morning-after question' is!"

"And you're what, Little Miss All Grown Up? Seventeen? Right!"

"That's why I need to know, Jake." I lowered my voice. "In all seriousness now, please, what happened?"

After he took a sip of the coffee, he finally eased up, and just showed me a heartbreaking frown.

"Don't worry, Bells. Nothing like that happened. We did kiss, if you really want to know. And it was good - not that you would remember. But then we both passed out."

"We... kissed?" I asked, surprised.

He nodded.

"We just kissed?" I repeated.

He shrugged.

"That's it?!"

"Hate to disappoint you. You didn't corrupt my innocence."

I threw a pillow at him and thought about sticking my tongue out, but I was still playing 'Little Miss All Grown Up'.

I sighed before continuing, reason coming to my senses.

"You know I'm sort of with Edward, right, Jake?" I stated, in an almost apologetic tone.

"The Cullen. I know. He's gonna break your heart, Bella. That's what they do. But you're a big girl. Go ahead, make your mistakes."

I shook my head.

"Jake... I love you, and I'm sorry. But..."

"I know."

He just shrugged, showing me he understood. But it is what it is. And I didn't want to push the issue. I also didn't want to apologize for kissing Jacob, afraid it would only hurt his feelings even more if I showed regret.

"So you need a ride home, right, Little Miss?"

Jacob stood up, picking one of his t-shirts from the ground and putting it on. He grabbed me by the hand and guided me to the door. He pointed to my shoes, where they stood just by the front doorstep.

The ride from La Push on Jake's bike was silent and relaxing. Once again, I used the fresh breeze to wake my senses up and distract me from the nausea. Well, nausea and guilt. All this underage drinking was certainly doing me no good.

The clouds were now starting to form in the the sky. Like most of the time in Forks, sunny days were short-lived. Rain would soon come pouring on us.

The grass outside my house was humid and so were the gravel and the asphalt. It looked like it had already been raining in the morning. But that wasn't even what grabbed my attention.

When I stepped out of the parked bike, Jacob gave me a tight hug before I even finished taking my helmet off. I had my back to my house when he whispered in my ear.

"Bella, I'm here for you. Whenever you need me. I know you don't see me like more than just a boy. But I'll grow up too."

I looked at Jacob confused. Touched, nonetheless, but I didn't know what his words meant. Of course I knew he would grow up. Jacob already sounded mature for his age. I truly loved him, but no more than a girl loves her best friend.

He placed a soft kiss on my forehead and hopped back on his bike. I noticed a black Mercedes with dark tinted windows parked across the street from my house. It was an unusual car for the neighborhood and I couldn't help but stare in curiosity for a few seconds.

Just as Jake sped away on his bike and I turned around, I heard the sound of opening and closing of a car door. My head shifted right back to realize it came from the mysterious black Mercedes.

Then I saw Edward standing, and leaning against the car, watching me intently. His face was serious and something deeper was swimming underneath the surface of his eyes. I froze still, immobilized by his gaze.

"Bella." He spoke in a quiet voice.

I had rehearsed our reunion in my head several times before. As soon as I saw Edward again, I wanted to run to him, embrace him, telling him how much I had missed him. This was the opposite reaction, because today, something glued me to the ground and I couldn't speak.

"Can we go for a walk?" He asked.

I simply nodded, almost hesitating. Something about that day - perhaps the weather, perhaps the silence or maybe even more – told me I wouldn't enjoy that walk I was about to go for.

To be continued...


End notes:

- This chapter will have a second part, as the last sentence suggested. Since it's a two-part chapter, expect an update sooner rather than later!

- HUGE THANK YOU to my reviewers! I know there aren't that many, but you guys rock! SERIOUSLY. I try to reply to each one of you! Keep it up!

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Basically this blog has a lot of info on music, images, timelines and other details and notes on the story. I try to keep my rant here short (well, except for today), so there ya go. Do visit!

- The quote on this chapter goes out to one of my dear readers, JellyFish McGee, who suggested Macbeth. Hope you liked the one I picked!

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