A/N: *hangs head in shame* I know...I've been gone awhile when I promised only two weeks. I promise I really did try but well, hubby got real sick and stayed home for an extra week and a half then my damn stupid muse ran off on me again...*whispers* I think she's havin an affair! So yeah fighting writers block and takin care of sick hubby. But I'm back now! So, here's the long awaited chapter 29. Oh yeah! Worth It has been nominated for an Immortal Sin Award. The category? Best Darkward. So go on over to darksper (dot) blogspot (dot) com and vote for your favorite stories, it doesnt even have to mine. :) Voting closes October 15th.

Alrighty then the songs for this chapter areFace This Charade by Parabelle and All Falls Down by Adelitas Way

Read on TwiAddicts Read On! :)


Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyer owns everything Twilight and all its characters.

JPOV

Seconds ticked by, each one an eternity that stretched and twisted in the tense air suffocating the tan leather interior, each one a milestone that brought me closer to my angel. The rumble of the Chevelle cut through the darkness like an angry dragon hungry for a fight, the hum of the tires eating the asphalt mile by mile lulled my demon into a false sense of accomplishment. My muscles tensed and flexed, dancing under the borrowed cotton shirt left behind by the previous owner, begging for action, for answers. The dread and anticipation mixed and burned in my chest like a hard whisky down a cracked parched throat. It drew the breath from my lungs with its crushing weight as it journeyed from the pit of my stomach and crept its way through my dead veins to my stolid heart.

I fought to keep my mind blank, to keep the images that threatened to drive the demon rabid and chase away the sanity I held onto with every fiber of my soul. Still they were there, whispering through my mind all the unspeakable horrors that I may be racing towards.

As the darkness turned to light and the sun chased us across the sky we were forced to leave the highway and take roads that were less traveled.

I turned down the third dirt road in two hours when I felt Peter's restlessness hit volumes that were no longer containable. That pent up energy and anxiety manifested itself in his adventurous hands. Soon he was rifling through the hodgepodge contents of the glove box.

"Well I'll be a 'coon's ass! Look at this shit! This dude was stuck in the eighties like a broke man in a two dollar whore!"

Charlotte gave a chuckle of amusement as he started pulling out handfuls of cassette tapes.

"Really! Look at this! Guns N' Roses, Def Leppard, Van Halen, Whitesnake, Poison, Bon Jovi, Motley Crue, Ozzy, AC/DC, Scorpions, Dio, Metallica! This is like the eighties greatest hits!"

His excitement rose with every word that shot from his lips as he juggled the countless pieces of plastic, mementos of a past life and extinct technology.

"Oh! Rock the Eighties! We gotta listen ta this!"

Rolling my eyes I watched as Peter popped the tape into the player. I couldn't help the laugh that escaped when I recognized the song that filtered through the impressively modern speakers.

"Really Peter? Breaking the law?"

"Aw come on Major. It's perfect! Racin' down a dirt road in a stolen car? A fuckin' 1970 Chevelle SS396 at that!" He shouted above the music.

I only grinned and rolled my eyes once more as he sang along to the chorus.

"Breakin' the law, breakin' the law! Breakin' the law, breakin' the law!"

"It's not exactly stolen if there's no one alive to own it." I threw back at him.

"That ain't how they'll see it!"

"They?"

No sooner were the words out of my mouth when I heard the sirens behind us and saw the flashing lights in the rearview mirror.

"Fuck! How the hell'd I miss that shit?"

"Too lost in your thoughts of your precious human maybe?" Charlotte shot out, venom lacing her words with hostility.

"Damnit Char, can we not do this now? We gotta figure out a way outta this."

"Just hit'im with some of your Dr Feelgood sleepy-time mojo."

"I can't do that Peter. At the speed he's goin' he'll die when he crashes if I just knock him out."

"We can't stop. That'll end bad for all of us." He replied in a tone laden with knowledge.

"So we run." I stated.

I had no doubt that we could outrun him, this car had a custom built engine that performed twice as well as the it's original stock motor, but I was worried about the attention the car would get from being put on a high alert BOLO. It was already stolen from a massive crime scene.

"We can take care o' the car in Kennewick. I know a shop that deals with our kind once in a while an' won't give us too much shit. We'll be in an' out in no time. They'll help us chop it and rebuild it. After we can give it a nice coat o' paint and it'll be untraceable."

I nodded wordlessly as I laid the petal to the floorboard. The rear end fishtailed slightly, sending a cloud of dust and gravel into the air as the motor opened up and showed off its full potential. Under the control of a human the power of the car and dangerous terrain of the road would have meant nothing less than a tragic and untimely death, but under my precise handling and lightning reflexes it was an experience tantamount to a mild adrenaline rush, no real danger involved.

"Why don't we just ditch this car for a new one?" Charlotte asked as we drifted around a bend of the remote country road, the tires spinning desperately trying to find purchase on the dry earth.

Peter gave her a look of utter astonishment and disbelief from his perch against the passenger door. He radiated glee and mischief as we sped down the road, the police cruiser falling further and further behind.

"Get another car? Char this is a 1970 Chevelle SS396 Hardtop Coupe!"

"So?"

"So? So? You don't jus' ditch a great American-made piece o' art like this! You keep it, you love it, you call it Roxanne an' vow that the day they make marriage 'tween man and machine legal you'll runoff together an' swear your undyin' love in front o' the greasy priest of the camshaft gods!"

"Oh for fuck's sake Peter! It's a fuckin' car, three thousand pounds of metal and rubber!"

An almost horrified gasp escaped Peter's lips as his wife belittled his obvious and unhealthy reverence for the ill-gotten automobile.

"Char, don't bother. You know how he was in the eighties. Jus' be thankful that he's not still teasin' his hair an' usin' up all your hairspray."

The next two hours were passed in an on-going argument between the two on the merit of all things '80s and running background of '80s rock music.

I was thankful for the distraction they provided with their colorful and imaginative insults to each others tastes and intelligence. It offered something besides my tumultuous thoughts to keep me company and drowned out the voices of my families hopeless words and broken spirited messages that now plagued my mind.

The shop Peter directed me to was in what was commonly called the Tri-Cities by the locals. It was the metropolitan area of south-eastern Washington. What Peter didn't mention was that the shop was owned and operated by a Native American woman, who was also a shifter.

Obviously given my history with the Quileute shifters I doubted how helpful the woman would be to a trio of vampires, two of whom were red eyes. I was pleasantly surprised when she had no qualms with either our species or our diets.

We pulled up to Mercy's Garage a little passed noon but because of the new paint Peter insisted on we didn't get out of there until after four in the afternoon. I hated to admit it but he was right, it was a whole new car.

The outer parts were completely replaced with new chrome pieces and the paint job was a mesmerizing metal flaked deep violet with two wide white racing stripes. The finished product left me with a begrudging respect for Peter's opinion and gave me a sense of relief that we were no longer riding around in a high profile stolen car. I suppose technically it was still stolen but with a new VIN and new numbers on all the parts we kept inside the hood, there was no way anyone would ever be able to link it with the poor bastard in Kansas. The finishing touch was the temporary license plates on the front and back marking it as a newly purchased vehicle until I could get in touch with Jenks to arrange papers and registration.

So with the sun in the overcast sky making its journey westward we were back on the road following its trail.

My restless nerves that had me snapping at everyone while we were in the shop calmed. I hated being stuck there while all I wanted to do was take off running towards Forks. The pull I felt was undeniable and had me chomping at the bit to be moving.

However once we were back on our way and every passing second drew us closer to the Olympic Peninsula, closer to Bella, my nerves were more shot than they had ever been. What would await me there? Fear gripped me as the picture the families messages painted of a wasting girl that was no longer anchored to our world imprinted itself upon my eyelids. Was she dying? Is that why I was summoned home? Did the wolves discover her changes and decide that they could not allow a potential threat so close to their territory to live?

Millions of possibilities raced through my mind until I was overcome with a flood of relief and paralyzing terror when the Forks city limits sign appeared when we crested the hill. I was no longer certain that I wanted to see her, wanted to see the anger and pity of my family when I walked through their front door. What if, in my selfish need to cut myself off from the pain of seeing her in Edward's arms, I had killed whatever love she may have had for me? Would she welcome me home with open arms or shun me in hatred?

"I hate to ask…we need you…we need the Major."

Carlisle's last words echoed through my discordant mind. Those words, those particular words meant something, something that, until this moment, I had been unwilling to acknowledge. His request could only mean there was either a newborn or a need for a fighter, a soldier. The violent noise that had resounded through the speakers of his first call told me I was correct but it did not point to a definitive answer.

Either way, my own inner turmoil had no place in the situation I was about to jump head-long into. I needed to merge the man I have been for the last fifty-odd years with the Major of the Southern Armies. I would not lose myself to the callous creature I had been yet I could not be the supine victim of circumstance that had left this town behind three months ago.

With the turn of my thoughts I could feel as the two sides settled, side by side, mingling and twisting, becoming one. After all these years I fully understood what it meant to be at peace with oneself. I didn't have to struggle to keep the two separate. I could embrace both sides of the man, and in turn I felt the demon relax. The instincts I fought every day for nearly a century and a half stilled in satisfaction as I gave up the fight and amalgamated them into the person I had become.

Now I knew exactly what Peter had been trying to tell me all these years. He had tried so hard to explain that accepting the demon was not the same as giving into it. He had preached so many times that all I had to do was make room for the bad in the good because, just like the Chinese philosophy of yin yang, there is a natural balance that needed to be obtained before one could be complete.

For all the shit that comes out of his mouth he could be one hell of a philosopher when the mood struck him.

I sucked in a freeing breath and let it out in a long lazy sigh.

"Feels a bit anticlimactic don' it?" Peter asked with a tone of amusement.

I turned to see the spark of knowledge shining from the depths of his ruby eyes. He knew what just happened. Just like he knew I would be coming back here. My lips quirked upwards in a lopsided grin at the gentle happiness laden with smug satisfaction that he projected throughout the car.

"Yeah, it does."

Neither of us needed to explain it to Charlotte, she knew with a simple look and nod exactly what had happened. No longer was I a human cursed, or a demon lost, I was a man who understood the evils of this world and the good that still lived in all of us. I was a man that understood that there was no such thing as purity of the soul, maybe purity of the heart, but not the soul. Even the vilest of monsters can flinch at the cry of a child or whine of a helpless animal and the godliest of men can wish evil upon their enemies.

I was finally the man that Bella deserved. I was not torn by my past and the desire to atone for the wrongs I had committed. Just as Bella had told me, I did what I had to do in order to survive, so I could live to see the smile grace my mate's lips, see my salvation in her eyes.

"Well alright then, hows about you put the petal ta the metal there Major so I can meet this girl of yers." He cheered as we passed the last buildings and were swallowed by the forests that lined the road.

Filled with a new-found clarity and purpose, I acquiesced to his demand.

A bank of ominously dark clouds blocked the late-afternoon sun and cast the world into an uncertain shadow. At first glance it was how it had always seemed, a quietly elegant home tucked away neatly in the forest surrounded by the lovingly kept lawn, though now it radiated with an impression of despondence. Upon closer inspection I noticed the utter disrepair of the yard. The flowerbeds that Esme had always been so prideful of were full of weeds that had choked out the colorful and fragrant flowers. The grass that was always manicured and so well maintained had gone wild with tufts growing up through the cobbled pathway. The windows were grimy with watery streaks of dust running down to the sills. It pained my heart to see the state of the once envious landscape. It spoke to the seriousness of the circumstances I was about to be faced with.

As I brought the car to a stop between Charlie's cruiser and an unfamiliar truck that reeked of werewolves Peter and Charlotte were finishing with the gold contacts they had picked up on the way here. It wouldn't fool a vampire but with humans and most likely the wolves they would appear to have the same amber colored eyes as the rest of the Cullens.

As soon as the doors were opened I could hear the murmur of voices coming from the back of the house and the smell of a charcoal fire.

They were barbequing? With werewolves? And the Chief of Police? What in the blue blazes is goin' on here?

"Ah, now that there is a smell you'd never forget. What's a pack of tahyo's doin' here? And with a cop too?" Peter asked, stealing the question straight from my thoughts.

"Hell if I know, but I'm sure as shit gonna figure it out."

It wasn't only the presence of the wolves that baffled me but the fact that they were grilling out with Bella's father. They never grilled and Charlie never came over to visit, like any other normal human our presence made him nervous. The only time the idea of a barbeque has ever been mentioned was the day that nearly killed me. When they wanted to celebrate Bella's…

"Fuck! What day is it today?"

Both Peter and Charlottes face were caught in a quizzical expression.

"What?"

"The date damnit! What's the date?"

Peter's face suddenly lit up full of understanding and amusement. Charlotte was still looking at me like I had lost my mind.

"It's September thirteenth." She drawled slowly as if I was a regular on the short bus.

"Damnit." I whispered, hating that my suspicion was right.

I turned away running my hand through my hair. How the hell could I not think of her birthday? Now here I am showing up after three months without a word empty handed and crashing her party.

"Holy mother crackers and goat cheese! It's the little bebelle's birthday!" Peter almost shouted in astonished amusement.

"Well it's a good thing I insisted on us stoppin' to chop the car now ain't it? 'Specially with a cop around." There was no way to miss the smugness radiating from him even without my gift it could be seen in his self-satisfied smirk.

He walked around the back of the car to where I stood. His smirk only grew wider as he clapped me on the back and laughed.

"I had a feelin' we'd need the car when we got here."

I looked at his grinning face in surprise as his words sank in.

"You want me to give her the car for a birthday present?"

I couldn't believe what he was implying. After the hours of arguing with Charlotte, after the small diatribe about loving and marrying this car he wanted me to give it away?

"I was just pullin' y'alls tails about that shit. Though I was right about the awesomeness of this car. I had to say somethin' to convince y'all from just droppin' it off in some alley." He sported the biggest shit eatin' grin I'd ever seen as he took in both mine and Charlottes stunned faces.

"You piece of shit! We went through all that trouble just so Jasper could have a present for his little toy when we got here?" Charlotte's outrage permeated the air.

I growled and opened my mouth to finally put her in line. I wasn't about to let her go off and bad mouth Bella anymore. If she doesn't like her after meeting her than she can just keep her own damn opinion to herself. Peter beat me to it though.

"Careful Char." He growled low in warning. "I won't have you talking about her like that anymore. Neither of us knows the full story and I gotta feelin' there's much more than the Major could even imagine in his darkest nightmares."

Wide-eyed Charlotte nodded though anyone could see the defiance in her stance. I felt her underlying curiosity and worry that was triggered by Peter's cryptic words.

I would be lying if I said I didn't feel my concern raise a few notches at his insinuation either. If Peter's feelings were telling him there was something more sinister going on then it was definitely not something to be taken lightly.

Silence descended over us as we walked around the side of the house, the keys to the Chevelle buried in my pocket.

Time stopped as we turned the corner. Fourteen pairs of eyes stood frozen, the air was tense and charged with an edge of hostility. The spell was broken by a low growl rumbling through the chest of the largest Indian.

I gave no notice to the other bodies that shifted and stirred in the group. My eyes were focused on the figure sitting in the patio chair on the far side of the gathering.

I was stricken with grief and heartache as I took in her once vibrant brown eyes, now marbled raspberry and chocolate, dull and worn, beaten down by life and the death that looked as if it stalked her. Her face was gaunt, her cheeks no longer flushed with the vitality of youth, they pointed out under her pallid skin. Her clothes hung from her frame, too large for the emaciated body that they held under their protection. Her lips were dry and had lost their plump rosy color that had begged to be kissed.

This was not my Bella. This was not even Edward's Bella. This was a wraith, a hideous wraith of my own making.

Still it could not diminish the flutter I felt in my chest at the sight of my angel alive, no matter how thin the string that held her to this world. My emotions danced and swirled, canceling out the barrage of anger and protective love that battered against me from the mixed group.

"Bella." Her name slipped reverently from my lips, a prayer to the gods for the life of my heart.

At the sound of her name she stood, ever so slowly, and took a step closer to me. I held my breath, silently begging for her to take one more, for every step that she took she was that much closer to my arms. My fingers itched to run through her languid hair, my arms ached to hold her within their protective embrace.

My prayers were answered when she took another step, her moves less hesitant than before. That step was followed by another, then another.

My heart swelled near to bursting. I no longer cared if she forgave me, nor did I care if she never wanted me the way I so desperately needed her. As long as she was safe and I could watch as she lived whatever life she chose I would be happy. Just to bask in every smile that would pull at her lips, every laugh that would bubble up from the depths of her soul.

Everyone held still as a statue as she journeyed closer and closer towards me. The world itself held it's breath, no air stirred save that which was disturbed by the slip of a girl who now stood no more than a foot from me. Electric shocks swam across my skin at the nearness of her, my body vibrated with life, with love.

The eyes that I had held through every step she made, stayed lifeless, a torrid imitation of what they once had been. Then there was a spark. Like lightning it flashed through the dappled depths.

Before I had any time to identify the single emotion her eyes betrayed, my world was shattered by a deafening pop accompanied by a range of cracks. Within the same breath I was hurtled backwards, my ass once again meeting the ground violently.

Shocked I looked up into the nearly blazing eyes of my angel.

"Go back to whatever hole you crawled out of Jasper, there's nothing left for you here." The words came out forcefully, full of menace and spite, as she threw the words I had used to break her heart back in my face.

As if nothing happened, she turned away and calmly walked through the back door.

"Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, nor hell a fury like a woman scorned." Peter's cryptic voice broke the stunned silence as her footsteps drew deeper into the house.

There was a faint snort from inside followed by a jaded sardonic voice that sounded so wrong coming from the lips of my angel.

"You have no fucking idea."

I looked up at Peter who's emotions told me he found my position funny as all hell. I sent him a shot of resentment as reprimand but it only caused his smile to grow as he met my glare.

"Don't you give me that look Major. I'd've figured by now you'd be used ta sittin' yer ass in the dirt."

I gave him another scathing look before hualing myself to my feet and dusting myself off. There was a lace of satisfied amusement running through the crowd but still the anger was boiling. I gathered as much calm as my addled brain could muster and sent it out in waves hoping to diffuse the tempers that were rising.

"Jasper, it's good to see you again son. If you will excuse me, I'm going to see if Bella's ok." Carlisle said loud enough for the few humans present to hear then dropped his voice for those with supernatual hearing. "And make sure her bones set properly this time."

He shot a pointed look at one of the russet skinned boys. The boy ducked his head, shame and guilt radiating from him. A few of the others chuckled.

"I'll go with you." Rosalie announced as Carlisle started for the door pinning me with her fiercest look.

I felt Charlotte's curious pleasure before she spoke the words that I knew would damn us all.

"I think I like her."


Peter's Cajun Translations

Tahyo-a big hungry dog

Bebelle- doll

A tip I found to get through writers block was to pick up a book and read. So I chose a random book from my shelf of books I had been collecting to "eventually" read. I havent really touched a book in two years because I've been too addicted to fanfiction. Anyways it really did help alot. Not only did I read one, I read the first three books of a series that I am thoroughly in love with now. As a tribute I dropped a few paragraphs honoring the main character of the series. I'm curious to see how many of you recognize it. :)

Oh and the song that Peter sings along to is Breaking The Law by Judas Priest I was gonna put Runnin With The Devil by Van Halen but I found out it wasnt really from the '80s, it narrowly missed it by releasing in '78.