I do not own anything in the Twilight Universe, I only wanted to try it on for size.

My Apologies

"Oh, come on ! Just tell me. Did you tell a guy named Michael my address or not?" Claire's temper flared at Tara's terrible acting skills. She was smiling, as if she just entered a surprise party for herself, even if she could not see her face on the phone.

"Really, Claire I don't know what you are talking about. The only Mike I know is that dork from Trig. And the way you describe your Mediterranean god, I would assume that is not the same person you are thinking of. Tell me again how tall he is and how hot his hair is...oh,oh, and tell me how his eyes seem to go right through you until you feel like you are laid bare before him!" Claire thought that she obviously talked too much with Tara this afternoon. Listening to her now, Claire thought she sounded like a love sick fool. It wasn't like that at all. She wasn't quite sure what it was, but it wasn't that. There would be no way to tone her down now. Tara was on a roll.

"Tara don't be an idiot. If you didn't give him my address, I wonder how he got it?" Claire couldn't really think of a reason for Tara to be lying bout this. That just made her feel more uncomfortable with the circumstances surrounding Michael.

"Like I said, I don't know. Hey, when are you coming back to school? You missed a major test in Geography. Mr Lyons said that he will not give makeups. He can be a real prick." Claire agreed, but there was no way she could leave her Mother now. She had tried to get some help from Emily, this morning when she discovered that she had left town with Scott. Sam was not very talkative about it. So she left and stayed home with Heather. There was no one else to turn to. School would just have to wait.

"As soon as I can. Can you give me the assignments of the classes we share, so I don't get too far behind?" Maybe that would keep her out of trouble, she thought as she fixed some soup for Heather.

"Yeah, I can do that, but I want to warn you that principal Setzer has been asking about you. I don't think he's too happy with you, right now. He is angry that Devon won't be playing for the rest of the year and he blames you." Claire thanked Tara for the warning. They both agreed that he was a prick too. After Claire hung up, she dished the soup into a bowl. Someone knocked on the back door. Claire instantly felt butterflies in her stomach.

She chided herself for being foolish. There was no reason to feel this way. Claire wiped her hands on a dish towel before she made her way to answer the door. She was surprised to see no one on the back porch, but before she could close the door, she noticed Michael at the bottom of the steps.

"Come take a walk with me." His simple request floated up to her on his velvet voice. Claire had taken one step forward, before she remembered the soup.

"Oh, I can't. I've made some soup for my Mother. Why don't you come in and after I give it to her I can go." He paused at the bottom of the steps. At first Claire thought he was going to leave, but he looked up at her and solemnly replied.

"I'll wait for you here." He certainly was acting shy. Claire told him she would be back soon and hurried back to the kitchen. She gathered the soup and crackers and the cup of hot tea, and put them on a tray. She carefully made her way to her Mother's bedroom. For once her Mother was sitting up. Claire was thankful that she didn't have to wake her.

"Hey you're sitting up. How do you feel?" Claire tried to keep the worry from her eyes. She cheerfully put the tray on her Mother's lap and made a show of putting the napkin on her lap. The dark circles under her eyes, regardless of how much sleep she got, were heavy purple bruises, making her brown eyes sunk into her head. She had lost so much weight, that her nightgown billowed around her gaunt frame.

"I feel good. Thank you so much. This looks good." Claire spoon fed her the first bite. Heather picked up the tea, to take a sip, splashing a bit over the rim of the cup, her hands shaking, with effort. "Mmmm."

Claire sat down on the edge of the bed, her smile wavered at her Mother's obvious weakness. After a few bites, Heather waved her hand that she was finished. She sank back into the pillows as if the effort to sit up was too much. With her eyes still closed, Heather asked how she enjoyed the dance.

"It was alright." Claire evaded, not wanting to hurt her Mother's feelings. She knew she didn't need to go into the gory details. It would do no good to disillusion her mother at this point. Let her be happy.

Suddenly, the memory of Quil's arms around her, his lips molding hers, his heat enveloping her, replayed in her mind, sending a vibrant blush over her warm skin. Claire caught her Mother's knowing expression, causing her to admit. "Some of the dance was wonderful."

" I knew it! How was he? Was he Handsome? Did he sweep you off of your feet?" The questions got weaker, as Heather ran out of energy. Her breathing became labored. Claire decided to cut her off and answer some of them before she exerted too much of her strength. She couldn't bring herself to talk about Devon. The guy gave her the creeps. She didn't want to ever put her eyes upon him again, much less remember the details of his pawing her . But Quil took over her memories, and even though it was painful to think he had not felt the same way, those moments were the greatest ones of her life. The feelings they brought back made her a little breathless as well, causing her tale to be full of wonder, and enchantment.

"The dance was great. They made it feel like you were the movie star, entering the world premier of your own movie. They had flashing lights and a huge red carpet that led you inside the gym. We were met by a photographer and the dance was decorated with reds and golds. I danced a lot and we hung out with his friends." Heather listened eagerly, but she wanted to hear the good stuff, the stuff that had put that blush on her daughter's face.

"That's nice, but how was he? Was he gorgeous in his tux? Did he kiss you?" Heather seemed to have gained some of her strength, as she leaned forward, away from her pillows. Claire tried to hide her revulsion, as the memories flooded her mind of Devon's clammy hands, pawing her skin, as his slimy wet lips rolled over her face. Instead she thought of Quil's warm embrace as his mouth captured hers. His eyes that burned into her soul to claim her.

"Yes, I got my first kiss." Claire's fingers lingered over her lips, as she felt a phantom throbbing, just under the surface. "It was the greatest feeling, that I have ever had."

"Will he ask you out again? Will he kiss you again? Heather's questions brought tears to her eyes. Quil acted like he was disgusted with his actions. He said that he didn't want to see her again. If he couldn't stand to face her, it was unlikely that he would want to touch her ever again.

"No. I don't think so." Heather awed her in sympathy, her shaking fingers tried to massage her daughter's back.

"Well, it's his loss. That just shows you, he was not meant to be. Don't worry, the right one will come along and sweep you off of your feet." Heather finished her sentence on a whisper, as if she found the end of her strength. Her eyes closed and her breathing slowed down.

"I thought I had already found the one." A few days ago she would have been sure of it. Now she was surprised by doubts. She wished that she could have talked to her Mother about her true feelings, but it had always been difficult. Heather was so worried that Claire would miss out like her, that she had tried to tailor her life to make up for all of her missed opportunities. Claire took the tray and went back to the kitchen. Belatedly, Claire remembered Michael waiting for her outside. Suddenly, she didn't feel so alone. Afraid that he had given up and left her, she ran through the door, grabbing her jacket from a chair and jumped down the steps. But he was there.

Micah took a step back as Claire presence invaded his senses. He should have fed before he came over, but he had been eager to see her again. He clenched his hands to gain some control over the beast within him, demanding fulfillment. Claire's scent was everywhere his head turned, so he stopped breathing.

"Hey there." Claire's smile wavered a bit at the unreadable expression on Michael's face. The name still rang falsely in her ears, but she had to call him something. "I thought that you may have given up on me."

"I would never give up on you." His simple statement laid warmly upon her shoulders, giving her some much needed encouragement. She felt so alone and the worry was eating her up inside. She jumped at a chance to escape, if just for a little while. His lips tilted up in a hint of a smile. Claire hunched her shoulders in nervousness and then pointed the way they should walk. The night air was biting, so she put her jacket on and followed Michael out of the yard, onto the dirt road in front of her house.

The moon was making a valiant effort to appear through the thick clouds that covered the sky. Claire took a peek at Michael's profile. His long hair was hanging loosely around his face tonight, it's ebony highlights glistening in the moonlight. His eyes, which were dark and hooded under his long lashes, gave nothing of his thoughts away.

"How was your day?" His question took her by surprise. She dropped her gaze, as she thought of the scare she had of her Mother's illness, the apparent desertion of her family, and now the problems at school. But he didn't want to hear about that. No one who asked you how you were doing, really wanted to know, so she gave the standard answer.

"Fine."

"Is that why you have been crying?" Claire's head whipped back to his. How did he know that she had been crying? Surely the tears had dried on her face. Maybe her nose was red. She was sure he could not see that in this dim light. Claire started to deny his accusation, but he put up his hand to calm her. "Never the less, you have been upset. I am worried about you, all alone." His soothing words of comfort, opened the dam of feelings, she had bottled up inside her. She took a shuddering breath to try to control the sobs, that raced up her constricting throat. Claire tried to reassure him that she was alright, but the words stuck in her throat.

"That is what I thought." Micah said as he struggled with himself, wanting to comfort her, but not wanting to give in to the temptation that her blood was calling to him. To Claire, he looked extremely uncomfortable with her emotion, and she did her best to push it back under control.

"It's tough watching my Mom waste away. I hate the feeling that I have no control of the situation." Claire felt a weight lift from her shoulders as she voiced her fears. Micah looked down on her, as he studied her with that unrelenting gaze.

"And you have a problem of not being in control?" She stared at him wondering if that was an observation, or if he wanted her to confirm the statement. Micah shook his head as if she answered his question with her silence. "Life is not always so accommodating to give many choices in your destiny."

"I am sick of hearing that word." Claire no longer trusted destiny. Practically all of her life, she had been quoted about destiny and imprinting. She even felt a safe comfort in the fact that her life was laid out in such a safe, organized fashion. Now! Now she was up in the air, not sure which way was set, and which way was closed to her. Micah walked next to her gaging her reaction. "Let's talk about something else."

"What would you like to talk about, then?" Micah asked, at a loss for another topic.

"Tell me about yourself." Claire quickly said, trying to change the subject. Also she was eager to fill in all of the gaps in her knowledge of her rescuer. Maybe the sense of unease would end. Micah's expression froze. Claire's unease grew to tighten her chest. What was he hiding? Why wouldn't he open up, with the simplest things.

"What do you want to know?" Micah hedged. Claire knew that they would get no where if he kept answering her with another question. She might as well beat to the chase.

"Where do I know you from? How do I know you?" Claire qualified. She stopped walking, and it took a moment for him to stop as well. Reluctantly, he turned back, a hesitant smile on his face. "Uh, uh,uh, no you don't! Do not answer me with another question. I just want a simple answer. Is it so hard?"

"You were six." Claire digested that slowly. Six was a dark period for her. She had virtually no memory of that year. Just images of pain and loss. It was when she was kidnapped by her Father. There was a terrible car wreck and she was in the hospital with severe head injuries, and her Father lost his life. The head injuries caused severe migraines. Claire was in and out of hospitals and on strong painkillers for most of that year. It was a blessing that she did not remember. But she had no memory of Michael. As if she conjured the past, a sharp dagger of pain spliced between her eyes, making her stagger. Micah was there in between heartbeats, his strong hands on her forearms, to steady her.

"Damn! I hate it when the headaches hit without warning." she said on an apologetic laugh. Micah asked if she were ok. The pain eased immediately and she stood up straighter. "Yes, I'm fine. Really. Now, as you were saying. I was six. I don't have too many memories of that year. A lot of tragedy happened then." The thought that he was around then had her thinking. "But you would know that if you were here. Maybe, you might know even more than I do. Come on spill!" Still Micah stood there, his hands on her arms. She could see the wheels turning in his eyes. Claire pleaded with her own for the truth. Everyone treated her with kid gloves about that time, never helping her to remember.

"You were a cute kid." Claire laughed at his tone. As if he were anything but a kid as well. "And feisty."

"Well that hasn't changed." Claire said, waiting for more. He let go of her and started walking again. Claire followed after him, her expression turning pensive at his silence.

"Were our families friends?" Claire now fishing for information. Micah turned to her and said, thinking it over.

"Friends? No, they are not friends. They would not approve of us talking right now." Claire digested that information for a moment. The night sounds interrupted by their footsteps on the rocky road. "I would like to think that we were friends. I felt closer to you than my own kind." Claire thought that the term kind was strange in that context, but he frequently used odd phrases.

"What happened back then? Why don't I remember you?" She said, frustration building up against that memory wall. Micah turned to her, his eyes mesmerizing in the faded light.

"You will. You went through a lot of trauma. The car accident did a considerable amount of damage. Memory loss is a defense mechanism, to protect you. It is just below the surface. Until then, trust me." Despite all of the little alarms going off that she didn't know enough about him, deep down she wanted to trust him. Something in her expression made his lips tilt in that hint of a smile again. Claire's thoughts turned to her Mother. Afraid to leave her alone too long, she turned back to the house. Micah followed, allowing her to lead.

"So did we make mud pies or what?" Claire had a hard time seeing that picture. It was enough to make her laugh out loud. Micah turned his face back to her in surprise, her mood changing faster than he could keep up with.

"Mud pies? Heavens I do not think so." A sudden memory of her playing with a whole litter of puppies struck him. "But you loved wrestling with those dogs." Claire was startled by the comment. Did he mean the pack? Did he know that the guys changed into wolves? He didn't look like any of the Quileutes. But he said that the families did not get along. She was more confused than before.

"Dogs?" She squeaked. Micah wanted so much to know what she was thinking to put that expression on her face.

"Puppies, a whole litter of them. They liked to jump and climb all over you." For the life of her, she could not remember that scene.

"I don't remember." Micah wanted to put the smile back on her face. He thought back to the past, trying to drag a fragment that would not be horrific for her. There was not much to choose from. Then he remembered the play acting that she used to love.

"Then there was the fairy tales. You loved to enact Beauty and the Beast, and Princess and the Frog. Which often turned into tea parties." More of the memory flooded his mind. The first meeting, he had with her. She was nothing more than a pawn, to gain favor with Aro. Claire was to be an addition to Aro's great army that he was trying to build. Her potential psychic abilities were very impressive. They literally knocked him off of his feet. She was able to reach into the inter most part of his soul and pull out what was hidden of his own humanity. A life he had before the curse. At first he thought she was a bridge to God, but that was myth. Now he just craved her company. Claire's gasp brought him back to the present. She clutched her head as memories came roaring back blinding her.

At least she thought they were memories, more like a horror movie. She saw herself and Quil playing make believe when he left her and a terrifying creature came out of the night to take her, the creatures blood filled eyes striking terror in her heart.

"Claire! Claire are you alright?" Micah was gently shaking her, trying to make her come to. Claire opened her eyes to find his face hovering above her. She found herself laying in his arms. "I thought.... I...You fainted and wouldn't wake up." The last time she did this, she wouldn't wake up and when she finally did, she had no memory of him. Maybe he was pushing her too hard.

"I'm ok." Claire said trying to get up. Micah reluctantly let her go. She stumbled to her feet. Claire shivered at the lingering effects of the nightmare images, still flashing like photographs in her mind. "I need to get back to my Mother." Her voice was weak and thready.

"Did you see..." Claire interrupted Micah, not wanting to make the images dwell in her mind.

"I need to get to my Mother." She repeated. Mom was security. She was peace. Claire did not want to go back to the darkness of her dream. By the time she had made it to the steps, she was practically running. She missed the first step and would have fallen if Micah had not caught her. She thanked him as she gained her balance. Heather's scream made Claire's heart stop. Micah didn't think but followed her up the porch steps.

Then she barged through the back door and ran to her Mother's bedroom. Heather was on the floor. Claire bent down at her side, trying to see what caused her to fall. Micah appeared on her Mother's other side, his body frozen in place. Claire checked her sides and then her arms. When she reached her head, she noticed a cut above her eye.

"Help me get her in her bed." When he didn't move, she looked up at him. His dark crimson eyes were mesmerized at the site of blood flow. He swallowed back the venom, his hands shaking with his wavering self control. The scent attacked his senses. "Michael?" The nightmare she just had blended with the image of the boy before her. Her voice dragged his eyes from the site of blood to her white face. The word vampire shouted in her head, and Claire draped her body over her Mother to protect her from the monster in front of her.

Micah dragged his foot backward, with greater effort, he took a couple more steps back. His eyes pleaded with her to understand. The fear he saw in hers gripped his dead heart. It was like all of those years ago, when she had awakened in the clearing, with no memory of him. He was right back to where he started.

"I am sorry.... I …." He dropped his eyes back to Heather. Claire clutched her Mother, shaking in her fear. She would protect her Mother with her own life, not that she was any threat to him. How could she have been so stupid? She had little contact with the local vampires, but still she should have figured it out. But he didn't act like a vampire should act. She thought he was a friend. Stupid!

"Stay away from her!" Claire roared with the most threatening voice she could make. Still Micah leaned down, his lips in a thin line as he reached out for the older woman. "Please! Don't." She turned to pleas as he picked Heather up. Claire dug her nails into his marble arms, making no damage. She was dragged with her Mother to the bed where he gently placed the unconscious woman. Then he stepped back with lightening speed to the doorway. Everything was moving too fast for Claire to think straight. He turned back once to look at her, regret eating at his expression.

"Wait!" She screamed but he was gone.

.

.

"This is really good. Really good Nessie." Jacob said around the mouth full of steak. Just the two of them were having dinner together. The others went hunting. It seemed like forever since they had time alone. Not since the funeral. At least it seemed like forever. Renesmee nodded at the compliment. Her temporary sense of happiness was gone with any hope that the serum worked. She was spinning into the abyss of depression again. Jacob felt helpless to stop her fall. She wouldn't admit her feelings. Nessie just kept trying to put up a good front. So he did the only thing he could think of, he pretended with her.

Renesmee made a show of picking at her own food, the smell alone made her nauseous. She felt his eyes on her again. He was ever watchful. Always trying to evaluate her moods. Forcing a smile to her lips, she met his gaze. He seemed to be satisfied because he mirrored hers. It was easier to fool him, if they were not touching.

"Boy, it sure is quiet, with Emmett out of the house." Jacob said to relieve the quiet. Instead, it just brought up the reminder that the house would never have the pitter patter of little feet. Everything reminded Renesmee, taunted Renesmee that she had failed again. She took a deep breath, not trusting herself to speak, that false smile still plastered on her face.

Her silence was killing him. She was closing up on herself. Building that wall brick by brick. He just didn't know how to comfort her. If he purposely brought the subject up, she would tense up and change the topic of conversation. It was getting to the point where no matter what he said it was met with apathy.

"Do you want to go to a movie tonight? There is the new romantic comedy playing with Robert Pattinson. Frankly I don't see what the girls see in him, but to each his own. He's kind of scrawny and he scowls too much. How about it? I'll buy you your own box of raisinettes, and I won't snatch any." He asked pleading with his eyes. Talk to me. Don't shut me out. I'm here.

"No, not tonight." Renesmee dropped her eyes to her still full plate. The

only sound in the room was the clinking of forks on plates. She wondered if Jacob would protest, if she asked him to patrol tonight. Nessie just needed some time to be alone, to let go of the pain she was feeling. She couldn't do that, when everyone was waiting for her to fall apart. The effort she was exerting was taking all of her strength.

"Well, how about if we pop a movie into the player and settle on the couch?" Jacob tried again. What he wanted to say was what can I do? How can I fix this? I don't want to fail you.

She picked up her plate and started gathering dishes. "I don't feel like a movie tonight. I just want to go to bed." The way she said it, left no room for him. Jacob looked down at the rest of his uneaten steak, no longer hungry. As she left the dining room, he felt like she was leaving his life. He ached for her. No. he was not going to let her just walk away. They were in this together, and the only way that they would survive this, is to stay together.

He picked up his plate and followed her into the kitchen. Her back was to him where she was placing the dishes in the sink. He set his plate on the counter and slipped his arms around her waist. Nessie tensed at the intimate contact, but he would not be persuaded this time. He tightened his hold, while his lips nuzzled her neck. Against her will her wet hands reached back to clasp the back of his neck.

"I love you." his declaration whispered in prayer. She remained silent as her head caressed his as he continued to adore her throat. When she couldn't take it any more she turned in his arms. She pulled his head up to capture his mouth. Jacob increased the pressure when he felt her participation. " I love you." He repeated a little more forcefully, against her mouth. Still she remained silent as she kissed his face and returned to his mouth, a small moan escaped her throat as she heated up in his embrace. Jacob pressed her closer, his body wrapped around her. No matter which way she turned, he was there. She could not escape, and then she forgot why she was trying.

" I love you." He said a third time, his voice rough and raw with need. She turned into him, her breath heavy and urgent with her own need.

"I love you." She breathed, into his mouth. His own smiled at his victory. He picked her up, never breaking the kiss, before he moved to the door. She wrenched her mouth from his to see where he was going.

"You are right. I just want to go to bed." Jacob said, his smile in his voice, bringing a smile to her face. The back door burst open and Paul and Embry entered at a dead run.

"Jacob we need your help! The pack is in turmoil. Everyone is doing their own thing. It's chaos." Paul declared taking in the scene of Jacob and Nessie clasped in his arms. Embry had the courtesy to look embarrassed at the interruption. He apologized to Nessie for coming in like they did.

"Where is Sam?" Jacob asked, frustrated at the pack for barging in.

"Sam is off the couch, but his head is somewhere else. He pretty much just ignores the pack. Jacob it is too dangerous out there to let the pack run wild. Right now Quil and Drew are at each other's throats, literally. Jared is so focused on Kim, that he is useless. I'm worried about Leah, she is trying to maintain order but, with the newbie out there, we can't afford anarchy." Embry finished. Both of the pack looked at Jacob, waiting for him to fix it. After a minute, Jacob set Nessie down, but he kept his arms around her, leaning into her warmth.

Trying to keep the frustration out of his voice, "What do you think that I can do?"

"Talk to Sam. Get him out of his rut." Paul said, who clearly had no sympathy for his leader.

"Get his head back into the game." Embry added. Jacob looked to Nessie, not wanting to leave her. She turned into his arms to give him a good by kiss, then pushed him toward the pack. As he moved forward, she slapped him on the butt. He turned in surprise, and she gave him an encouraging smile.

"Give him hell dear."

Claire finally got a clue. Jacob is in for a surprise. Claire will turn to the Pack for help. Quil will step up to the bat. Micah will make a pilgrimage. Hope you like it so far.