Disclaimer: Twilight is not mine. Neither is New Moon, Eclipse, or Breaking Dawn. I own none of it...I just like to read it:D

Thanks a million again to my beta, Rebecca Masen. Without her, this chapter would not be nearly as good as it turned out to be. Thank you so much! :D

I'm sorry this chapter took me so long to put up! I know, I know...shame, shame. It's been about a week since my last update, and this time I really have no excuse. Please forgive me! You guys are all so amazing, to have stuck with this story and put up with my slow updates:D

Now...to my new friend, Critical Fantasy Thinker (If this isn't you, feel free to skip the rest of the author's note and continue on to the chapter):

I loved your reviews:) You had some very valid points- yes I know, my writing is flawed, and I probably didn't explain a few things as well as I should have. I wish I could have replied to you privately, but I can't reply to an anonymous review. Next time you think there's something wrong with this story, I would love it if you would sign in, and then make your complaints:) That way, I can explain my thinking when I was writing that chapter of the story. Thanks so much for your reviews! They were really interesting to read, and totally made my week:)


Chapter Twenty-Eight

I pushed Jake off of me, a bit unceremoniously and with a little more force than was probably necessary, and stood up to look at her for a second. Her eyes were still the same stormy grey as Riff's, only now they seemed sadder. Older, somehow…like when she left, she hadn't exactly been living in a five-star hotel. She had a suitcase in hand, so I guess she was planning on staying for a while. Her golden hair was shorter, now. Her light was glowing dimly, an off-white color similar to the one I'd seen on Paul the other day. She could hurt me- but it wasn't her intention. Somehow, my heart still hardened when her eyes met mine.

"Freya," she whispered her voice weak, quiet, timid; she'd averted her eyes from mine, and wouldn't make eye contact with me again. "Is this a bad time?" Her eyes strayed to where Jacob was standing at my elbow, a hand resting protectively on my shoulder.

I saw her looking me over, judging the changes in me. I wondered if she noticed that I'd cut my hair since she'd left- it was long, but it was still over a foot shorter than it had been a year ago. That was back when I used to walk around with my hair braided down my back. Back when I was still a teenage girl.

I wondered if she'd noticed that I'd grown up since she left.

I didn't speak- I just looked at her. We looked at each other, but never in the eyes. I couldn't help but thinking that I saw her nose turn up, just a little, in what I thought was disgust. Had she seen the color of the couch my dad had bought a few months ago? (It was called olive green, but really it looked more like vomit, which may or may not have contained olives.) Or was she thinking about the day I'd phased in front of her?

"I…your father," she managed at last, still not looking at me. "I need to speak with your father."

I still wasn't speaking. I was too angry, too furiously angry to say anything now. After all this time…she comes home. And she wants to speak with my father.

"Markus isn't home," Jake spoke up for me. "He's at work."

"Tony, then?"

My fists and jaws clenched tight, and I could feel my knees starting to shake. The anger was coursing through me, making its way like fire through my veins. Tony. Your father. The words stung. I wanted nothing more than to shout at her, to scream and stomp and wave my hands in the air, anything to get her attention.

I'm right here! Freya, the daughter you used to watch Hallmark movies with at three in the morning! The only one who cried when you left!

"He's at a friend's house," Jake supplied, looking nervously at me, as if he could hear what I was thinking.

"Oh."

We both waited- Jake and I- to see what she would do now. Would she acknowledge my existence? Was she brave enough to look the daughter she'd abandoned in the eye?

When she didn't speak, Jake grasped my shoulder firmly, and began steering me past her toward the front door. "Markus's number's on the fridge," he said coldly. "I'm sure he'll be delighted to see you again."

Jake slammed the back door behind us, and helped me up into his car. He drove for a while, until we were sitting in his car, in the middle of the forest. "Are you ok?" he asked me, rubbing my back comfortingly.

I still couldn't talk. There was a lump in my throat- the kind that made it absolutely impossible to say anything without crying. I didn't want to cry in front of Jacob- I didn't want to cry at all. I'd wasted enough tears over my mother over the past year. Jake pried my white-knuckled grip off the dashboard of the car, instead holding my hands gently.

"Thank you," I whispered. "I didn't know how much longer I could bee in the same room as her."

He shook his head. "I remember when Marissa used to be smart." He brought our hands up to wipe away a tear that had somehow escaped. Jake's comment made me laugh, and kept the floods away for a little while longer.

"Do you think she'll call Dad?" I wondered out loud.

"Probably," Jake shrugged. "She's here to see him, apparently."

I thought about what that would do to my father, hearing from his wife again. (Yes, wife- my mom hadn't even had the decency to wait and get a divorce so that my father could move on.) She was his imprint; he would be ecstatic. Dad would race home, reading for things to be just how they'd always been before she'd left.

But things could never go back to how they'd been.

I whipped out my cell phone angrily, and dialed his number.

"Freya? What's wrong?" he demanded, answering on the first ring. He'd been unbearably paranoid, ever since Jake and Own had brought him to me in the forest, that day that seemed so long ago now when Victoria had tried to kill me.

"Mom's back," I said icily. "She just shows up on our doorstep, asking for you. As if nothing had happened."

"Marissa," he breathed. "Freya, honey, I'll be home in five minutes." The line went dead; he'd hung up. I sighed, closing my phone and slamming my head against the dashboard a couple times.

"Freya," Jake chuckled, catching my head before I was able to bang it against the dashboard a third time. "Come on. Stop killing your brain cells."

"Why did she have to come back?" I groaned, letting Jake take me into his arms and burying my head in his chest. I wished that she'd just stayed wherever it was that she'd disappeared to. Things were just starting to become ok again. I'd finally found my place with the werewolves, Dad had gotten over my mom's leaving- at least to the point where he said good morning to me when I came downstairs in the mornings- and I had this wonderful boyfriend. Bella and I had become friends, I'd earned a few battle scars.

I was just starting to get over her leaving. My mother's return now just brought all the anger, hurt, betrayal, and tears back to the surface again. She was home; but she didn't want me. She was so close, but so far away at the same time.

"I'll take you to Emily's," Jacob murmured into my hair sweetly.

"No," I demanded, my voice shaking just a little. I coughed, and repeated myself, my voice clear and calm now. "No. I'm not going to let her chase me out of my home. She's the one who shouldn't be there, not me."

He nodded, turning the keys in the ignition and driving me back home again. When he parked in the driveway, I saw that Dad's car was parked next to my mom's silver Buick. I ran my hands along the silver paint, remembering all the times I'd sat in the back, eating McDonalds and chattering on about how much fun I'd had in ballet class that day, even though she'd been sitting there watching me and the other students for the past hour.

Jake's hand covered mine, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"Are you ok, here by yourself?" he asked me.

"Don't you want to finish watching the movie?" I asked him. There was no way I was going to give my mother what she wanted- attention. I was going to ignore the crap out of my mother. She wanted things back to normal? Fine. I'll give her normal- the new normal I'd been forced to settle in when she'd left.

"Freya…" I could tell by the wary look in his eyes that he knew what I was doing, that he'd been intending to leave so that I could maybe talk things out with my mother. He also knew that talking was the last thing I wanted to do right now.

"Don't make me," I pleaded. "Please, Jake, don't make me go in there alone."

He nodded, taking up his protective stance at my side once again, his hands on my waist, leading me forward toward the door. It had been left wide open, an invitation to animals, vampires, werewolves, and thieves alike. That didn't really surprised me- Mom always had been scatterbrained, and my dad was probably too excited about seeing his wife again to think about something as trivial as closing the front door.

No…that wasn't what surprised me. I was a bit more occupied by the fact that I could see my parents in the kitchen, making out like a couple of teenagers.

"Ew," I muttered numbly. I guess Dad had forgiven her for leaving.

"Yeah," Jake agreed.

I just plopped myself down on the couch again, taking up the remote and pressing play. The movie resumed, the last of the credits making their way up the screen and away from our view. I tried to ignore my parents in the kitchen, but frankly- they were being really loud.

"Get a room, will you!" I called to them. I heard mumbled apologies from my father, and they made their way upstairs. Not wanting to think about that, I turned the volume up to practically full blast. Jake sat patiently through the movie- bless him- and only left when I announced that I was getting really, really tired.

"Alright," he nodded. "Do you want me to leave?"

"No," I admitted. "But I never do. Go home, get some sleep. I'll see you tomorrow." I pushed him toward the door, urging him to get home where he belonged. "I love you," I reminded him with a small smile.

"Ditto," he grinned, kissing me goodnight before heading out to his car.

I shut and locked the door behind me, and headed up to my room. I collapsed on my bed, pulling the covers up over my head, wishing that the darkness could swallow me; that I would wake up in a world where women didn't abandon their children for something stupid, like turning into a wolf on the living room carpet.

The next morning, I woke up to my mother fixing pancakes in the kitchen. I knew it was her, because I could smell the mixture of spices I'd never been able to quite distinguish before I'd gone wolf. Now, I could tell that it included cinnamon, sugar, vanilla, and nutmeg. I remember the concoction to be absolutely delicious. This morning, however, it just made me want to be sick. It was a reminder to me that my mother was back.

And by the look of her and my dad's little reunion yesterday, she was back for good and forever amen.

I went through my daily routine slowly, donning a pair of shorts and a yellow tank top- even though it was raining cats, dogs, and possibly even buffalo outside. It was nearly eleven by the time I finally made my way down the stairs, walking in slow motion.

"Good morning, Freya!" my dad called to me from behind his newspaper at the kitchen table. My mom was doing dishes; she'd left out a plate for me, but she refused to look at me.

"I'm going to Emily's," I announced.

"Who's Emily?" my mom asked my dad. She still hadn't looked in my direction.

"Oh, you know, the head werewolf's fiancée," I informed her, emphasizing the word "werewolf". "It's where all the werewolves hang out. Like me, and Jake." Somehow, I just couldn't keep the acidity out of my voice. My mother looked horrified at the casual manner in which I said what I was.

"Aren't you going to eat breakfast first?" my mom managed to get out.

"No- we wolves are on a special diet," I grinned in a way that was almost evil. "It's what? Saturday?" She nodded hesitantly. "Excellent. I love mountain lion day." Laughing out loud at the absolutely aghast expression on my mother's face, I phased, right there in front of her, my clothes falling in shreds on the floor. Then, I bounded out the open front door.

When I got to Sam and Emily's place, I stood up on my back paws and rang the doorbell with one of my long, sharp claws. I then sat down calmly on my back legs and waited for someone to answer.

"Come on in, honey," Emily smiled at me. "There are some clothes of yours upstairs in the closet. I just cleaned them this morning." I licked her hand in appreciation, and made my way carefully up the spotlessly clean stairway, trying not to get any mud on the carpet.

Once the door was securely locked and the windows closed, I phased. There were clean towels in the bathroom- I decided to take a quick shower. When I was done, I wrapped myself in a clean, fuzzy, and surprisingly warm towel and made my way to the guest bedroom closet. It was full of clothes for each of us wolves, always ready and waiting in case one of us lost our cool, or couldn't bare to spend the night at home. I couldn't help but notice that almost half the clothes in there were mine. I sighed, picking out a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt to change into.

When I'd changed, I helped Emily cook breakfast for the two of us, Sam, and anybody else who decided to make an entrance for some free food. All the while, I couldn't help but notice how warm the towels were this morning. She wouldn't have washed all her towels…unless she knew she had a guest coming.

"Hey, Emily?" I asked as I set the table.

"Hmm?"

"Who told you about my mom? Did Jake tell you?" I guessed.

"He…may have mentioned it, yes," she admitted, placing a plate stacked high with biscuits next to the bowl of gravy in the center of the table. "I figured…you might be stopping by sooner or later. I just figured I'd have the room ready, just in case."

"Thank you," I mumbled.

"It's nothing," she smiled at me. "I enjoy having you around, anyway…even if I don't like the circumstances. I'm sorry about your mom, Freya."

I shrugged. "It's fine. I think I really freaked her out this morning. Phased, right there in front of her." I couldn't help but grin at the memory of my mother's face.

"Freya!" she gasped.

"What? She left because I was too much of a freak for her. I was just reminding her of that- in case she thinks I've changed, or something. Because I haven't."

She just shook her head with a sigh, handing me the pitcher of orange juice to set down on the table next to the milk. When she called the wolves waiting in the living room to breakfast, it was about as crazy as a stampede of gazelle- it reminded me of that scene in The Lion King where Mufasa dies. (Why, Scar- WHY?)

"Boys!" Emily yelled. "You're acting like animals!"

"We are animals," Embry pointed out as he shoveled gravy onto his biscuits.

Eventually, Emily got the boys to calm down enough so that we could all sit around the table without getting food everywhere. I took a spot between Emily and Quil, and the talk and laughter that was always shared during meals at Emily and Sam's house allowed me a temporary escape from my problems at home.

Of course, then my dad had to call and ruin everything.

"I should probably take this," I sighed, getting up from the kitchen table and heading up to the guest room. "Dad?"

"Hey, honey," he greeted me, sounding happier than he'd been since Mom left. "Where are you?"

"I told you, Dad, I'm at Emily's house," I sighed. "What do you want?"

"I need you to come home, sweetheart. Your mother and I need to tell you something."

"Oh, God, Dad…" I took a deep breath, struggling not to put down the phone and start banging my head against the wall. "She's not staying long, is she? I mean, she's just visiting, right? She'll be gone by Monday."

"Freya…come home," he begged. "Marissa…she wants to talk to you. She wants to see you again, Freya."

"I'm really not in the mood to talk to her right now, Dad," I sighed. "I can't even be in the same room as the two of you. It's disgusting." I had a boyfriend now, and I get that sometimes a little PDA can't be helped. But they could have at least waited until I was out of earshot.

"Freya…you can't live at Emily's house forever," he warned me. "You'll have to come home eventually. Your mom feels awful about what happened before. She…she's had it rough, while she was gone. Marissa got herself into some pretty messy situations- drugs, alcohol and such. She needs our help, Freya. Your mother needs you."

"What she needs a good rehab center," I countered, "not her mutant freak of a daughter."

"You aren't a freak." My father's voice was soft, sympathetic. Of course, he remembered what it was like to be a teenage werewolf. He knew what it was like to lose all your best friends, to have the immense weight of the reservation's safety placed on your shoulders. He knew how it felt when you looked in the mirror, and couldn't even recognize yourself anymore.

"Tell Mom that," I laughed without humor.

"I did. She agrees with me now. With the both of us. She's on our side now, Freya."

"I didn't know this was a game, Dad."

He sighed, and I could just see the way he ran his fingers through his hair in frustration- something I'd inherited from him, by the way. "I never said it was a game," he argued. "I don't think it is. All I want is for you to come home. We miss you here."

"I've got some stuff I've got to take care of first. Then I'll come home. But if you think I'm going to be taking part in a little heart-to-heart with Mom…well. You're wrong." I hung up the phone in a huff, and made my way downstairs. "I'm leaving," I announced.

"Where are you going?" Emily inquired. "Back home?"

"Maybe," I shrugged. "I'd stay here a while longer…but this is the first place my dad would look for me."

Emily tsked at me for a moment, then sighed. "Go. Go ahead. I'll see you tonight. Sam wanted me to remind you about your patrol time- 5:00 tonight, and then again at midnight. Just like at the end of the school year. Can you handle that?"

"Of course, I can handle it, Em," I chuckled. "Thanks for being concerned, though. I'll see you tonight."

With that, I made my way through the front door, and began walking down the path that lead to the absolute last place my father would look for me- the Cullen home.

"Freya, come on in!" Alice exclaimed, throwing the door open for me a full fifteen steps before I even reached the front porch. She always was the first to the door. "I've been hoping you would visit us soon!"

"I've been meaning to visit," I nodded apologetically. "I'm actually here to see Owen. He's here, isn't he?"

"Oh, yeah, of course," Alice smiled. "Up the stairs, down the hall, the third door on the left." She led me into the house, and over to the winding staircase. "He's packing right now, but he knows you're here. He'll be waiting for you."

I went ahead and made my way up to Owen's room, and found the door wide open for me. Owen was kneeling on the floor over a black suitcase, folding and placing everything with great care. "Hey, Freya," he greeted me, without looking up from what he was doing. His voice sounded…so incredibly sad. Poor guy. I remembered what it had been like to be dragged into the world of vampires and werewolves. I at least got to keep my family with me. Owen's father and little sister believed him to be dead.

"Are you ok?" I asked him, coming to rest my hand gently on his rock-hard shoulder. "You sound a little down."

"I am a little down," he admitted. "A lot down."

"What's with the suitcase?"

"I'm leaving," he confirmed my suspicion. "I'm going up north, to Alaska. Carlisle has some friends there…I told you about the Denali clan a couple days ago, didn't I?" I nodded, urging him to continue. "I…I can't stay here, Freya," he sighed, his hands sparkling slightly as he ran them through his already fairly messed-up hair. "You know I can't."

"I know," I nodded. "Your dad, and Gracie…they're heartbroken. You'd be happier away from them, where you won't be tempted to drop by for a visit."

"Yeah," he sighed. We sat there in silence for a while, each of us contemplating the situation. "You know?" he asked me after a while. "I really hate her. Victoria." He spat out the name as if it were a curse word.

"Me, too," I agreed. "And…I'm sorry, Owen."

He looked at me, his eyebrows high and his eyes wide with surprise. "Sorry? What are you sorry for, Freya?"

"It's my fault, that you're this way. I was the one who dragged you into this war. I should have kept you away from Victoria- far away. I shouldn't ever have gone out with you, or led you on the way I did…that wasn't fair. I'm sorry."

"Hey, don't talk like that," Owen ordered gently, wrapping one arm around my shoulder. "I chose to follow you into the woods that day. Remember? I was the one who couldn't just mind my own business. I couldn't have just called you, like any other guy would after a date. I had to track you down." He chuckled. "And I'm really sorry about that last date, Freya. I…well. I wasn't on my best behavior. I never am, around you."

"It's fine," I sighed. "I shouldn't have agreed to go out with you, when I had feelings for Jake the way I did. I was stupid, and selfish."

"Isn't this just a great little pity party we're having?" he laughed. "You're stupid and selfish, and I can't mind my own business."

"You forgot to mention the fact that you're a complete stalker," I chuckled. "You always seemed to show up at just the wrong moment. I mean, that forest is huge. Bella and I had to have been nearly a mile away from your house, in the middle of this huge forest, and you walked by right as I was phasing. How on Earth did you pull that off?"

"I guess I just got lucky," he grinned. "I'd always known there was something weird about you, Freya."

"Hmm…yes, it's nice to know that I'm a weirdo. When are you leaving?" I reverted back to our topic from earlier. "Sometime next week?"

"I leave tomorrow."

"Tomorrow!" I exclaimed with a gasp. "So soon? Tanya and the others can wait a couple days, can't they?"

"I'm sure they wouldn't mind if I came up next week, or next month, or never at all," he sighed. "I'm the one who can't wait any longer. I can't sit back and watch my dad and Gracie at my funeral or being comforted by our friends and family…I can't do it anymore. I've tried to…to talk to them, in their dreams, the way I can with you. But it's harder than I'd thought it would be. I haven't quite figured it out yet. I love my family, Frey. I want to stay here with you and the others…but I just can't."

By now, Owen was having a little difficulty getting the words out. If he were human…he'd be crying.

"I hate her even more now," I whispered, "for doing this to you. You deserve a better life than this, Owen."

"I like to think so," he smiled sadly at me. "Life isn't perfect, though. Sometimes…sometimes what you love gets taken from you before you even get the chance to really have it." Owen looked at me then, and his still ruby-red eyes seemed so deep. I couldn't tell exactly what emotion was playing behind those eyes…but whatever it was, it was intense. We looked at each other like this for a moment or two, before Owen finally shook his head in dismay. "I've got to get out of here," he muttered, zipping his suitcase shut.

"I'll miss you," I smiled shakily at him. I hated crying…but seeing Owen so upset, and knowing that it was partially my fault…it tore me apart inside. Before I could stop myself, I'd thrown my arms around his neck and was hugging him as hard as I was able. I noticed that he still had the same honey-and-almonds type of smell…only now, it was like he'd been dipped in melted sugar. Sugary, sweet…and cold, like all the other vampires. I'd have been able to pick his scent out from a mile away.

"I'll miss you, too, Freya," he sighed. "I'll call you. Ok? We'll keep in touch. I promise."

I nodded, still not loosening my grip on his neck. "You'd better call me, Owen Anderson," I growled at him menacingly. "It would be only too easy to find you and rip your head off your shoulders if you don't."

"Aw, I'd hate for you to go to such trouble over me," he teased, reaching up to pry my arms away from him. He was strong- stronger than I was. Of course. He was a newborn vampire.

"You're worth it," I teased him right back.

We talked for a little while longer, carefully avoiding the topics of vampirism, werewolves, his family, and his new home. We did, however, talk about the movie I'd been wanting to see- Face Punch II. I still hadn't seen it, and judging by the way Owen raved about it, it was really good.

Or rather, really funny.

When the sun started dropping lower and lower into the sky, I decided that it was about time for me to go. "My dad is expecting me at home," I explained apologetically as I began walking toward the door. "I'll stop by tomorrow, before you leave."

"I'll see you tomorrow then, Freya," he smiled at me. Owen hugged me one last time before I hurried out the door, and began the long walk home.


Well! What did you guys think about Owen moving? I'm going to miss him...he's a pretty cool guy. I hope we'll get to see him later, maybe in the sequel...;)

Speaking of the sequel- does anyone have suggestions for a name? If you have any, go ahead and leave me a review. I'd love your opinions:D

Penny for your thoughts?;)