Okay.. so I just realizd that I forgot to do one of my homework assignments due today.. plus I had two papers (a ten page and a 6 page), and a quiz. But here I am doing what I always do. That's right people… I got my priorities straight.

So many of you have guessed well of what was going to happen… but I'm pretty sure it's not going to end up the way some of you think it will, so do keep reading. In any case.. here is the next chapter!

Somewhere Only We Know

Quil

I loved barbecues. It was really fun seeing everyone together. Jacob always came, but we all knew they made him a little sad since Renesmee never did. Claire was here though, so at least I was happy. It was Collin's turn to cook. We sat in his family's house on the couches eating away at his famous ribs.

"If you get anything on that couch, Ateara, you're going to lick it clean," Marina, Collin's wife, threatened. I hovered my sauce-covered fingers over the brown leather couch, and then stopped when she gave me a look that could cut through glass.

"I'll be good, Marina," I promised. She smiled charmingly and walked away as Seth came to sit with Claire and me.

"Hi, Seth," Claire said. "Where are Lisa and Liza?" she asked about his daughters.

"They're here, somewhere. I hope," he said looking around. "You guys hear about Embry?" Claire and I looked at each other and back at Seth.

"No, what's going on with Embry?" she asked.

"He imprinted."

"No way," I gasped.

"Way," he said, mocking me. "Met her this morning and shifted while I was patrolling."

"How'd it happen?" Claire asked excitedly.

"This small convenience store the size of a pebble that Embry had never been in got a new girl. Her first day. He goes in there, bam! Imprinting's crazy like that."

"So where is he?" I asked. "I'd have thought he'd want to show her off.".

"Not a chance. Said he just wanted to hang out with her alone." Seth chuckled. "I remember those days, first imprinting. It's awesome." He gave me a wink and shoved some salad in his mouth. I shook my head at him, telling him to never wink at me again.

"Seth! Where'd you put the cups?" Rachel called from the kitchen. He gave us a salute with two fingers and went to help Rachel and Kim.

"Was it like that for you?" she asked me.

"When I first imprinted? Do you ever remember me not there? I couldn't stand being apart from you. And that was when you were two."

"It must've been hard to wait so long. Everyone else gets to go out and marry right away."

"I didn't mind waiting."

"Oooh.." Paul cooed mockingly from where he was in the kitchen. "Quil and Claire sitting in a tree.." he sang. We looked over at him and then each other before laughing. Claire leaned over to me and cupped her mouth over my ear.

"Wanna go find a tree?" I thought I heard her purr, and that got me curious.

"Here? Now?" I whispered.

"Wouldn't it be fun to make out in someone else's home?" To be honest, that kinda turned me on a little. Claire and I hadn't been so physical in our relationship, so the fact that she was willing to do something risky was intriguing. Maybe it was teenager in me that never got a chance to sneak around with a girl. Better late than never, right?

"There's a spare bedroom upstairs," I suggested.

"Meet me there in five?" She smiled and got up to throw out her empty plate and cup before heading up. I sat where I was, continuing to eat, pretending I wasn't so excited I wanted jump up with fireworks blasting behind me. Four minutes to go!

"Stop, Austin! Give it back! It's not yours!" Seth's girl, Lisa, exclaimed. Austin was running around the living room with a piece of paper in his hand. I stretched out a hand and caught him just as he tried to run past me.

"Watcha got there, Austin?" I asked, taking the paper from him.

"Austin keeps going through people's stuff," Lisa reported.

"Shut up, Lisa," he snapped. I meant to say something about his language, but my eye barely glanced at the papers when I caught the words "medical examination". I flipped through the pages, but it was written quite plainly. Diagnosis: Lymphoma Stage: Four. Lymphoma. Wasn't that cancer?

"Austin, where did you get this?" I asked seriously.

"Cousin Claire's bag," he said pointing to where she had left it. I checked the name on the front. No, it wasn't true. How could it be? She wasn't sick. We were just talking. She's waiting for me so we could make out. She told me everything was fine at the doctor's. She wasn't sick. She couldn't be sick. Not that kind of sick. Stage 4? No way. How do you get to Stage 4 and not show symptoms? No, this was wrong. She wasn't sick. She wasn't.

I went upstairs to where I knew Claire was waiting for me.

"Hey, you," she said enticingly. I closed the door behind me.

"Claire, what is this?" I asked holding up the paper as she looked at what I was holding. "Austin went through your bag. I took it from him." Claire took the paper from me.

"Did anyone else see it?"

"No." She was looking down at it, but I knew she wasn't reading. "Is it true?" She exhaled and nodded, still not looking at me. "When did you find out?"

"Last week."

"I didn't even know you took any tests." She nodded, still not looking up at me.

"The doctor said he felt something suspicious on my neck, so they took a blood sample." Her voice cracked a bit and she covered her mouth with her hand. I saw her cheeks glistening. She was crying. I quickly pulled her to met and let her cry. So many questioned swarmed through my head. Could she get treated? Did this mean she was dying? How long did she have? But I didn't ask them. I just let her cry into my chest. I was sad, but I wasn't a crier. Maybe it didn't quite hit me yet. I squeezed Claire tighter to me, careful not to crush her. I felt like there was a monster after her, the only one I couldn't protect her from. All I knew was that Claire was sad, scared, and sick. So what the hell was I supposed to do now?

I was with her when she told her parents. We were all pretty devastated. A lot of tears and hugging happened. I couldn't even imagine what it must've been like to be her parents. I loved Claire more than life and it was killing me. But she was their baby.

"So how does she seem okay if she's so far into it?" Claire's father asked the doctor at the hospital. We all went with her for support.

"Unfortunately, sometimes the symptoms are so subtle they can be mistaken for other things," the doctor answered, "such as coughing, chest pains, bruising. Often times by the time they do come up, the condition has already become quite serious.

"So what can we do?" Claire's mom asked.

"At this point, we can try the regular treatment options. Surgery is an option. We can try to remove as much as we can and hope that will be enough." He sighed before going on. "However, considering how far we are in stages, I would not in good conscious recommend this option. The surgery could greatly weaken her, and there's a great risk." He didn't think she'd survive surgery. It was starting to hit me how sick she was. She wasn't just ill; she was dying.

"What else is there?" I asked.

"There is chemotherapy. We can also put Claire on a list for bone marrow transplant." I couldn't tell you how hard it was to hear words like "chemotherapy" and "transplant". This couldn't be our world. Our kind didn't have stuff like this happen. In the end, Claire would take the usual steps to fighting, but I could see the hopelessness in the doctor's eyes. He gave her less than 6 months. Those words were also hard to hear.

I learned a lot about medical stuff in a few weeks. I found out bone marrow compatibility wasn't as easy as bloodtyping. Of course not. That would've been too easy. The marrow itself had to be compatible. Her parents were already tested, but they weren't a match. Her friends sent their DNA samples to the bank already. No one needed to remind me that I couldn't help her that way. Everyone I knew wouldn't be able to explain why our skin healed over the needle when we were shot, and also our feverish temperatures.

Renesmee never called meetings. None of imprints did. Actually, not even the wolves other than the leaders did. But she insisted, so Jacob made everyone gather up at Sam and Emily's house. Both packs were there.

"My grandpa wants to help Claire," Renesmee started, "but he needs to find a match. And you guys can't be part of a nationwide bank. If you match for anyone other than Claire, that could give someone else false hope since you wouldn't be able to actually donate it because it will probably raise questions and reveal your secret. But Carlisle said that he'd be able to do the transplant without drawing attention to you. You just need to give send a cheek swab in a Ziploc bag.

"What if one of us is a match?" Sam asked. I uncharacteristically growled at him. He was going to put his pride in Claire's way to recovery? "Quil, we need to know what the risks are." I said no more, but my sentiment for his intentions was clear.

"From what Grandpa has explained to me, the risk is minimal enough for humans so long as they are of age and not pregnant. The problem is keeping the needle in you long enough to extract what he needs. That could get complicated." Everyone glanced around at each other before Renesmee spoke up again. "First things first. If you want a chance to help Claire, this is the only way. At best, they'll find a human match and my grandpa will have the inconvenience of disposing of your swabs." There were some mumblings between the guys that I didn't bother to listen to. Leah put a hand on my shoulder and looked up at Emily.

"Where do you keep the cotton swabs, Em?" she asked. Emily was already prepared.

"Got 'em right here."

Claire had her days. We were only a few weeks into her treatment. Some days she was running like a wolf, laughing, planning the next day. Others, she couldn't get out of bed. Those days were hard for me, though obviously worse for her. Sometimes I would panic that she wouldn't wake up. This was one of those days.

I waited until her parents had fallen asleep. I didn't want to bother them or make them feel obligated to entertain me until I left. I hopped up the side of Claire' two-story house and cracked her window open.

She was so pale, almost green. They said the chemo would do that. I exhaled a stifled whimper. Why her?

"Quil?" I looked up to see Claire's barely open eyes, setting the list down.

"Hey, Claire." I didn't realize I had been crying until my voice cracked. I blinked my tears back.

"Go to sleep, baby. I didn't mean to wake you." She smiled and touched my wet eyes. I tried take the focus off me. "How are you feeling?"

"Queasy," she said sitting up a little bit. I helped readjust her pillow.

"Do you need to throw up?" She shook her head.

"Don't cry, Quil." I smiled, trying to compensate for showing her my sadness. "What are you thinking about?" I took her hand and kissed me before looking back up at her tiredly.

"I was thinking about our future. I was thinking we could get out of this reservation. I'd get a job at a big web design company and save enough to buy you a big house. You could stay at home, get a dog to fill the extra space until the kids start coming. We'd have Christmas at our place since it's the nicest and both of our parents would come. The dog would try to get the turkey, but I'd always know. Eventually I could retire and we're travel every year to the spot your finger lands on when you spin the globe. I'd buy you a dress to show you off when we go dancing; you coerced me, of course." She smiled perfectly at me.

"Sounds wonderful," she said quietly. Her eyes were getting heavy.

"Go to sleep, babe. I'll be back tomorrow." She smiled and closed her eyes. I kissed her forehead, feeling how warm she was. "Good night, Claire." I lingered to watch her sleep, hearing her heart, watching her breathe, and then slipped out her window.

Anyone wanna guess what's gonna happen? I won't tell you're if you're right or wrong.. so not to spoil it… but since many of you seemed to know what was going to happen to Claire. I didn't hide it very well though, I'll admit. I was actually going to go with a genetic disease that I kinda have experience with, but I couldn't remember the name. Either case.. what'd ya think?