A/N I don't own Twilight.

Hello all and thank you so very much for all the wonderful, wonderful reviews! Lots of you have expressed concern about James. Let me just say, like Bella thought: "Perhaps he's just cocky." In other words, don't worry so much!

Thanks as ever to Sherry and Deb, and to Bob (Hev99) who has officially joined "Team Torn." Welcome!

There is some French in this chapter - translations at the end.

Sunday morning I wake later than usual. Without looking at the clock I know I have slept in. I guess the last few days have taken their toll on me. It has been such a rollercoaster ride, and I'm not even sure what I should think of it all.

It all started with Alice coming to talk to me before Thanksgiving.

"Do you know what would be awesome?" she asked.

No.

"Just smack me if I go too far, but it would be so cool if you would try to sit down at the table with us during the Thanksgiving dinner."

My was crashing out of my chest immediately but I would lie if I said I hadn't been thinking about that, too.

"You think you can do that? I mean, you drink with us now. You ate chocolate with me. Eating with the rest of us isn't that big of a deal, you know."

So many thoughts were racing through my mind, I didn't know where to start. Alice continued talking.

"What are you so afraid of anyway? It's not like we'll take it away from you."

My shocked expression clued her in and her face went ashen as her mouth dropped open. She was silent for a long moment, focusing on her fidgeting fingers in her lap. "I'm so sorry," she stammered. Then she looked up. "Really?"

My shoulders sagged. I didn't want this conversation.

"Um, but I still mean what I said. I mean, you really can just join us. Nothing will happen, I promise."

She talked some more, until the tension of my unexpected revelation had subsided a bit. Her bubbliness and her pressing me to trust her, her confidence that it would be just fine, made me tell her about the marzipan flowers, and if she thought if they were a good idea.

Alice was over the moon, clapping her hands and bouncing on the bed, her eyes shining in excitement.

"You really want to do that? That is so wonderful, Bella! Everybody will be so surprised!"

She launched into a plan to help me get the treats on the plates. I was relaxing a bit, thinking that the hard part of the conversation was over, but I was wrong.

"What stops you from doing the things you want? Because I can see that you want them," Alice asked suddenly. "Like eating with us, or this marzipan? How long have you been playing with this idea? I can tell how hard it was for you to ask me about it. Is it fear? Are you afraid?"

I wanted to deny but my blush and unease betrayed me.

"What are you afraid of, Bella?"

I don't know how it happened. I think the built up tension from the last days had worn me down and tore down my mask. But I teared up and cried in front of her, so tired to be afraid all the time, so tired of keeping up my guard and so tired of not knowing what I am up against here.

I wiped my tears away angrily, but Alice saw them. She scooted closer to me on the bed, still keeping her distance. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry. Do you want to talk about it?"

I swallowed the last of my tears away and shook my head.

"That's okay. I'm just so sorry for the burden you seem to bear."

A long silence stretched, but it wasn't awkward. Alice was simply giving me time to compose myself. Her words were so kind, I couldn't deny it.

"Are you fed up with being scared?" Her words were so soft I barely heard them, but when I looked up at her I knew she had spoken them out loud.

I couldn't help but nod.

"Maybe we can work on that," she said. "And we can start by taking this step for you at Thanksgiving. What do you think?"

She helped me to plan the marzipan surprise. She convinced me to take that leap and to sit down at the table with the rest of the family. Swore to me that nothing would happen and that I could leave anytime I wanted. I wanted to discuss it with Esme, but she thought it would be so much more dramatic if it was a surprise, assuring me time and again that truly, everybody would be so happy. They wouldn't mind me joining. Did I not know they set the table for me, too, every night?

No, I didn't. I never realized.

My God.

I didn't have time to think about it, because Alice's energy was relentless. And because she was helping me with everything I went along with her, in my way thanking her for what she was doing.

The day before Thanksgiving she came to my room with a bundle of clothes in her hands.

"I want you to try this on," she said. "We usually dress up a bit at Thanksgiving. I'm sure mom and dad wouldn't mind if you wore your hoodie, but it would be so cool if you would try this. Would you?"

I would. I couldn't refuse her as she was looking at me with those puppy dog eyes. And she had done so much for me already, I felt like I could do something back by accepting these clothes from her. It was a thick turtleneck that didn't hide my body as much as I liked it to, but it would suffice. The slacks she had arranged fitted around my waist but were wide everywhere else, hiding everything. I felt comfortable in them and most importantly, they were warm. They were warmer than my jeans, even.

Alice convinced me to try the clothes. When I reemerged from the bathroom, she bounced on the bed again, clasping her hands under her chin. "I knew this would suit you. Have you looked in the mirror?"

I shook my head.

This time the silence was awkward, but she didn't push and for that I was glad.

Thanksgiving Day for me was filled with cooking. I was getting more and more relaxed around Esme and it felt so good to be cooking for the entire family.

At one point Edward had come in, brushing past me to get to the fridge. He never had been so close to me before but I focused on the bread dough I was kneading, telling myself there was no danger.

And then that joke about the milk… I was so surprised he brought that back up. His wink had been disarming. He seems so at ease around me, it's almost relaxing for me, too.

Alice was right about the reactions of the others. They were surprised, happy, admiring the flowers I had made. Edward didn't even want to eat them, because they were too pretty. But they all liked it and when they were all chewing on the sweets I had made, I felt a warm happiness in my guts.

The note had been the next big step but after Carlisle's words I didn't really hesitate to give my words to Alice, who gave them to Esme, who read them out loud. I meant every word I wrote down.

But it doesn't mean it's all happy and easy now. Eating was a challenge, and in hindsight I'm quite upset with myself for having done everything I did. I reached out there, made myself vulnerable. Eating was my choice alone, and didn't have to do with Alice's convincing, I tell myself.

But I took such risks that day. I want to crawl into a dark corner and hide from myself. I don't even recognize myself in that day, yet deep down there is this part of me that revels in having been part of the family for real, if only for a day.

Until my evil mind whispers they just accepted me because it was Thanksgiving. If I tried it again today I wouldn't get such a response, for sure. Quite the opposite, in fact.

Still, their reactions had seemed so genuine. But I can't shake the feeling I have that they're just allowing me to be here. Indulging, as it were. Tolerating.

I know they're not always nice. I experienced it first hand when Jasper and Emmett had been fighting. They both apologized to me. How odd. As if I had been involved. I had just been scared shitless. Emmett's voice is really loud.

Sighing, I turn to my back and think some more.

The show was absolutely wonderful. It was easy to just enjoy it, hidden by the darkness as I felt. I took it all in, the music, the dancing, the singing. I felt so light, and so grateful for Esme and Carlisle to have taken me there. We all gasped when the chimneysweeper walked up, his body angled horizontally, along the side of the stage, only to stop upside down on the ceiling to dance.

I get that it was a children's show, but if was entertaining for adults nonetheless. Even Emmett laughed at some of the jokes.

I was not as apprehensive to go see the show as I would have been some time ago, I think. I wasn't even very nervous when I ended up sitting next to Edward. He kept his distance carefully, but not obviously. How is it that he seems to know exactly what I am comfortable with?

I think he didn't notice I knew he was looking at me at one point in the show. But, even though I can hardly conceive it now, I did not feel uncomfortable when he did. He wasn't leering and there was no tension in his gaze. I didn't know what possibly could have been worth it to look at when he looked at me, but he was just… observing, I guess. Much like I do.

I've come far, I realize, if I am not alarmed when somebody is looking at me. But he didn't do it because he wanted something from me. It was just like with Thanksgiving, he had looked at me then too, and he had seemed so happy.

Thinking back on it now, lying in my bed, I do start to feel uncomfortable. What did he see, what was he looking for? What does he want, and what does he see in me? Even though I have warned him time and again that I am not good company, and that it is better for him to stay away, he doesn't listen. He keeps coming back to me.

I'm not sure what I should do. As scared as I am that he will leave once he really gets to know me, I can't deny that I appreciate his company. And he really seems to get to me sometimes. He somehow makes me tell him things I'd never even consider share with anybody else. It feels almost like I want to tell him, want him to know. It's so weird, because he's a guy, and I don't generally like guys. But the Cullens seem so nice, and I really am starting to think that if after two months I have not seen even the hint of violence, it might very well never really happen.

Could it really be? It's so scary to let go and relax, even though they say I should. Even though I really would like to.

Sighing, I turn to my other side under the wondrously heavy winter comforter and check the time, shocked. I knew it was late, but never expected it would be after ten. I guess I had to sleep off the tension of going out. I did it, but it was hard. I know Alice knew I was protecting myself again by shutting down, much like I do in school, but I also noticed how she didn't tell Esme.

And Esme saw me in a crowd. Now that she knows I can do it, perhaps she won't offer home schooling again.

If of course asstarts like Mike won't try anything.

I sigh again. What I'd give to be normal. Like Rosalie, not taking any shit. Or like Alice, so beautiful in her own way yet nobody ever bothers her.

But no. I am not beautiful nor would I want to be. I am unattractive and plain, and I do think it's better that way. The less attention I draw, the better.

Yes. Stay small, stay still. Be invisible.

Staying in bed late on a Sunday does not fit that plan, however. Still, my body feels so heavy and I am so tired. I think I could sleep more if my mind didn't feel so clear.

But I can feel the more worrying tendency of my thoughts setting in and I step out of bed before I can spiral in too deep. After a quick shower in the dark I gather my laundry to do some washing.

I wonder what I should do with the turtleneck and slacks Alice gave me. She told me I could keep them, but they're not really mine, are they?

Another problem to solve, I guess.

After starting the washing machine I walk into the kitchen, where Alice is toasting bread.

"Morning," she smiles. She hasn't done her hair yet, and soft strands are tucked behind her ear. I've never seen her so natural yet.

I flinch when the toaster ejects the bread and watch as Alice calmly puts out two plates and invites me to have breakfast with her.

When we settle at the table, she smiles at me. There's a calm in her eyes I have not seen before.

"That show was so lovely yesterday! Did you like it?" she asks.

I nod, breaking a small bit off the bread and chewing carefully. Alice looks away, giving me time and space to eat. I thought I would really hate it that she knows the reason for my trouble with eating, but it's surprisingly relaxing to know that she knows. It's the revelation of all these little bits of information, that, even though they make me vulnerable, make me feel lighter, too. There's a strange relief in knowing I am not the only one with this knowledge.

"I think we all liked it to see you out with us," she breaks into my thoughts. "You weren't really scared, were you?"

I shake my head, breaking off another piece of bread.

"Hey, I was thinking, if you like to go out, we usually go buy our Christmas tree today. I was supposed to go with dad, but you can come with?"

I hesitate. I don't like the thought of being out with Carlisle.

Alice regards me as I think and leans forward when she whispers. "Nothing happened yesterday. Nothing will happen today. Please, come with us? Think how nice it shall be to be out of the house. I'll sit in the back of the car with you?"

She looks so pleading, so hopeful. Her words take hold and resonate, and finally, I nod. She beams and finishes her meal quickly to go get Carlisle, leaving me to eat the rest of my toast as well.

Within minutes we're off in Carlisle's Mercedes, Alice in the back with me and chattering away happily as ever.

I wonder if she ever is in a bad mood. Or if her cheerfulness causes others' moods to turn sour often.

Alice is already completely in Christmas mode and talks about the colors that are trending this year, and how she would like to buy various new things.

"Now, now, let's just see first what we have left, shall we?" Carlisle reprimands from behind the wheel.

"It's all old!" Alice exclaims dramatically. "I went to check it out with Bella yesterday, and she agrees. Don't you, Bella?"

I look up in utter shock at Alice's attempt to make me team up with her against Carlisle, who sees me through his rear view mirror and chuckles. "Don't worry, Bella. Alice will buy what she wants anyway."

"As long as you know it," Alice grins, and then launches into a list of the things she wants to buy.

It's a short ride to the place where they sell the Christmas trees. I'm still not very familiar in my new surroundings but I don't think we really left Forks. Did we?

Carlisle parks the car and we all get out. Again I am surprised by the cold in this area of the world. I don't think I will ever be able to get used to it and I huddle deeper into my coat as I shove my hands into my pocket.

Alice sees me and smiles. "We need to get you gloves."

"Come on," Carlisle says. "Let's go find a tree."

We walk into the area where the trees are displayed. The scent of the trees is strong and I close my eyes for a second to just breathe it in. It's such a nice smell. Stefan and Irina used to get a tree, before Irina left. I loved the smell of that, too.

But I don't like to think back to my last Christmas.

Carlisle leads the way and Alice and I follow along. They both look left and right to find a tree that suits their wishes. I don't know what they would want and just walk with them, wondering why Alice wanted me to come so badly.

Around us, a few other people are looking around. Couples, or parents with children. The atmosphere is relaxed, hushed almost. Rationally, I know people tend to look forward to the Christmas season.

Alice and Carlisle settle on a tree that is so big I wonder how they would even get it home. Carlisle leaves our sight to pay for it, and Alice takes me to the tiny stall where they sell decorations. Some Native Americans are behind the stand, and I realize the things they sell must be hand made.

The sound of a thump and then a crying child alerts me and I turn to see where it is coming from. Walking past some trees, I can see the kid. He has fallen to his knees and is crying, asking for its mommy.

There is no one in sight but just as I start walking up to the little boy, Carlisle appears. Hidden by the big firs, I see how he kneels before the child and tries to soothe it.

With wide eyes I look on, seeing how Carlisle asks where it hurts, what the boy's name is, and where he saw his mommy last.

"Do you know your mommy's name?"

The boy hiccups an answer I cannot discern. Carlisle gets up, reaching out so the toddler can take his hand. The boy however stretches both hands out to Carlisle in a clear request to be picked up. Carlisle bends and lifts the boy up with him effortlessly, and looks around.

"Let's go find your mother," he says softly, gently bouncing the kid to comfort it.

Carlisle is so gentle with the child, and the boy seems so completely comfortable in Carlisle's arms.

After a few moments, a woman speeds up to Carlisle. "Damien, there you are! Thank you for keeping an eye on him," she tells Carlisle as she takes her son over from him.

"No worries. He looked a little stressed here. He fell down, but I don't think he's hurt."

The woman rocks her child gently back and forth in her arms. "Thanks. He has a knack of wandering off."

Carlisle smiles indulgently. "I have six teenage children myself, and I must say I don't really miss that habit they had when they were still toddlers."

The woman smiles even as her eyes widen at Carlisle's words. "Six! They must have been a handful!"

Carlisle says six. I cock my head at this. But I wasn't around when I was a toddler. But, to ease inconvenience he could have said he has five children and he didn't. He didn't.

"… Be all right." I have missed his first words as I was too busy processing his previous statement.

"Well, I have to go, but thank you," the woman says again, and she's off.

Alice steps up to me out of nowhere and we walk up to Carlisle. "I found Jacob," she tells him. "He's waiting for us at the stand."

Jacob?

"Ah, very nice," Carlisle answers. "Well, I guess we are done here then, aren't we?"

"Sure. Let me just buy some things at the stand real quick."

Alice darts away, leaving me alone with Carlisle. Unsure, I stare at the ground.

"Are you looking forward to Christmas, Bella?" he asks kindly. When I don't really react he goes on. "I hope that you will enjoy the holidays with us." His voice is soft and almost sounds wistful.

I don't know why he is so different around me suddenly.

"Hey, doc," a low voice behind me says.

I spin around to see who's approaching. A boy, younger than I am I think, Native American with long jet-black hair and dark eyes. He's tall and very muscular. I step back immediately and step straight into Carlisle, his body coming in full contact with mine. My footing is unstable and to my utter horror I realize I must have stepped on Carlisle's toes.

Blind panic overtakes me. I gasp violently and step aside, feeling my skin burn under my clothes where I touched him. Holding up my hands to apologize, Carlisle holds up his in a calming gesture.

"It's okay, Bella. Nothing happened. It's okay. Deep breaths."

I can't, my body demands more air than I can get into my lungs. Shaking badly, I feel like my knees are about to give way. I want to beg forgiveness. I must have hurt Carlisle by my stupid actions.

"No," Alice suddenly says softly but sternly near my ear. "There is no reason to panic and you are not going to do it now. Do you hear me?"

Still gasping, she ducks her head to make me meet her eyes. "Hold your breath for a moment. There is no danger here."

I do as I'm told with some effort, my ears ringing with my rushing blood and my heart pounding so hard it hurts.

"Is she all right?" the guy named Jacob asks and his voice sounds worried.

"She will be. Just give her a moment," Carlisle says. From the corner of my eye I see how he steps back and guides the guy Jacob away from me.

Alice hushes me softly and stays near. "See? Nothing happened. Nothing will happen. You okay?"

After a few long minutes I can nod, and she smiles at me. "Come on."

Alice gestures for Carlisle and he comes back up to me. I, like the coward I am, hide behind Alice. It's a public place, I remind myself. There's little chance he'll do anything here to get back from my stepping into him. Besides, this Jacob is with us still.

"You okay, Bella?" Carlisle asks, and the sincerity in his voice and eyes throws me off guard. He looks at Jacob who is standing next to him. "This is Jacob. He lives near here on the reservation."

Reservation? I've heard of that before.

"Hi," Jacob says, frowning in his insecurity. "I'm Jake."

He doesn't offer his hand and I am grateful.

"This is Bella," Alice answers for me as she nods over her shoulder at me. "She came to live with us a few months ago."

"You couldn't have ended up in a better place," Jacob says, smiling.

"Let's go get the tree home," Carlisle says before I can think too long about Jacob's words. "I think it will rain soon."

"Right on," Jacob replies, clapping his hands together in a gesture to start the action.

I wince at the sound and the sudden movement and Jacob looks at me with surprise in his eyes.

"Come on," Alice says quickly. "Let's go look further at what they have at that stand."

I follow Alice, grateful for her distraction technique even though I realize she has seen the stand twice before already, and we linger until Carlisle comes to get us to drive home. Alice buys some more Christmas decorations, beautiful handwork that I fawn over for a long moment.

We walk to the car and I blink once, wondering where the tree has gone.

"Jake is coming up behind us with his father's truck," Alice explains. "He helps us to get the tree home every year."

I wonder why I have never heard his name before if he is so obviously connected to the family, but I guess I just must have missed something.

We start the drive home and sure enough, a big truck comes up behind us. Alice tells me a bit more about Jacob. His mother died when he was still young, and his father is in a wheelchair, suffering from diabetes. They can't afford medical care but Carlisle helps Jacob's father often, in his own time. In return, Jacob helps sometimes with things like bringing home the tree.

I don't see why Emmett can't help with this, but I hold my peace. I also wonder if Jacob is even old enough to drive, but still, I don't speak up. It's certainly not my place to question the motives of this family.

Carlisle parks the Mercedes in the garage and Alice takes me into the house as Carlisle walks outside to meet Jacob.

Alice calls for Jasper and Edward in the house. Emmett is out, it seems. The other two appear, grinning, probably eager to set up the Christmas tree. Esme appears too, a smile on her face. She has cleared a corner in the living room where the tree is supposed to go. Rosalie comes out too, a smile on her face.

Christmas at the Cullen house, it seems, is a family event.

Carlisle and Jasper appear in the doorway, carrying the tree. Edward walks in after them, arms outstretched just in case.

Jacob trails behind and Esme goes to him immediately, enveloping him in a warm hug, which he returns with a seeming edge of desperation I cannot explain.

I cannot explain the sudden wave of this very unfamiliar rush of jealousy that washes over me, either, and I frown to suppress it.

"Hello, Jacob," she says kindly. "Thank you for helping out."

"No problem, Esme," Jacob replies, keeping his huge arms around Esme's tiny frame. "I like to do it."

"How is your father?" she asks as she steps back and takes his hands in hers.

"Okay, I guess. Could be better I think."

"Tell him to lay off the Vitamin R," Carlisle jokes, not looking up from where he is fussing with the tree. Finally, the men step back.

"Perfect," Esme breaths happily. "It's a beautiful tree. Thank you for picking it out." She disappears into the kitchen to get drinks, Jacob following behind.

"He looks troubled," Jasper nods into the direction of the kitchen.

"I think his father's health is failing. I'll try to go by this week," Carlisle answers.

"Poor guy," Alice sighs. "He's had to endure so much already."

Everybody seems so nice to Jacob but he feels so out of place in this house. Almost like I do. A bystander, on the outside looking in.

He and Esme reappear from the kitchen several moments later. Jacob is chewing on something and holding a glass of soda, and Esme is carrying a tray with drinks and a tiny bowl with the last of my marzipan treats.

They eat and drink and chat for a bit and it's all I can do to stay in the crowded room. I sit in the winged chair, tense. Edward looks at me carefully for a moment and then sits down on the corner of the coffee table, close to me but far enough away to be comfortable. Placing himself directly in between me and Jacob and somehow I can finally exhale, breathe again. I'm not necessarily afraid of Jacob but his body alone is something that inspires a certain uneasiness. I wonder how much time he spends working out.

When the drinks are gone, Rosalie turns up the music and Esme and Alice disappear into the storage to bring out the boxes with Christmas decorations. I go up to follow them, uneasy with so many men in the room, but hoping they will allow me to help them.

Jacob leaves after lunch, with Carlisle's promise that he will come by to check on his father again soon. We spend the rest of the day decorating the house. I take on the task of untangling the lights, sitting in a corner of the couch with the mess of chord around me.

The atmosphere is relaxed. On the radio Christmas songs are played in between regular ones. Jasper gets bored quickly and leaves the room to go out for a bit. Edward stays to help, his length coming in handy when Esme asks him to help with the lights that go higher up in the tree.

Carlisle stays too, making hot chocolate for all of us when twilight sets in. Rosalie, Alice and Esme work while chatting along. The ease with which they decorate the house tells me that they've done this before. Some things even seem to have designated spots.

When Esme excuses herself to start preparing dinner, I offer to help but she refuses. Alice distracts me from my disappointment by pointing to several boxes she has placed on the coffee table.

"Pick out what you like," she says encouragingly. "You can use it to decorate your room."

I blink a few times, then look from the boxes to her.

"Wouldn't you like that? Rosalie and I do it too. Here," she continues and reaches into the box for a tiny Christmas tree. "You can put this on your desk, for example."

After some more encouraging words, she helps me to pick out some things. Rosalie comes upstairs with us and looks into my room as Alice puts some things around the room.

"You need to personalize this more," Rosalie says. "Wait. I'll be right back."

She reappears moments later, some colorful pillows in her hands. "Here," she says. "You can have these. They brighten up your room a bit."

She drops the pillows on the bed and arranges them, taking one to place it in the rocking chair. "There. Pretty," she smiles.

I look from the pillows to her, grateful but unsure about this gift.

"Say thank you," Alice smiles jokingly, and I lift my hands in the Namaste gesture I learned from coach Clapp and Rosalie's face lights up in a brilliant smile.

"You're welcome."

Alice finishes decorating my room, looking pleased and smug when she's done. After dinner we gather around the kitchen table for some last minute studying. I don't have any homework to do, but Alice has a Trig test coming up and she's nervous, I can tell. I help her out for hours. It's the least I can do to pay her back for all she did for me.

Just before we're about to go to bed, Esme calls me into the living room. She's on the couch with Carlisle, the TV on mute in the background.

"Your first therapy session is Tuesday after school. Will that work for you?"

I nod, even though every hair on my body rises in protest.

"Very well. I'll pick you up after school to drive you to Port Angeles and back. We'll be home before dinner."

I swallow thickly, panic tugging at my backbone, begging to be released.

"Just to try it," Carlisle says reassuringly. "If you decide after the session that you don't want it, we can discuss other possibilities."

I nod, distracted by my chaotic thoughts. It's such a bother for Esme to bring me there, pick me up, and wait in between.

They bid me goodnight and I trudge up the stairs to my room, now filled with Christmas decorations and colored pillows on the bed. Turning off the lights, I lie fully clothed on the bed and stare into the little lights of the tiny Christmas tree on my desk until my vision blurs and I slip into sleep.

.

Laurent is here. He's standing behind me and I cower, afraid.

"Qu'est-ce que tu as fait maintenant, Isabella?"* he murmurs, exasperated. I feel his breath on my neck and shudder, even though I try so hard to be still.

Before me on the ground, the remnants of the plates that slipped from my hands. Shards everywhere. I choke back a sob. He can't see me cry.

"Réponds-moi," he hisses, angry now. "Qu'est-ce que tu as fait?"

I don't even know French, but I think he wants to know what I did. Regardless, I can't answer him. I stopped talking long ago and he knows it.

Laurent sighs and walks around me. The threat clear in his voice, his walk.

I am scared. He can be so unpredictable. After five years alone with him I still can't read him sometimes.

"Qu'est-ce que je vais faire avec toi, hm?" he asks, the words rolling off his tongue.

"Parle!" he shouts suddenly and I cringe. "Why are you always so quiet? Speak up for God's sake!"

My silence unnerves him. It's one of those days.

He looks down at the shards, then back at me. "Regarde moi," he commands.

I look up to meet his gaze and his eyes shock me, they're so dark.

"Ta faute," he says lowly. "Tout c'est de ta faute."

I stand my ground and wait for what's going to come. I can't run. It will only make things worse.

"Clean this shit up," he says off-handedly. "Then go to your room. I'm not done with you."

.

I bolt awake, drenched in sweat but shivering in cold. I shake my head to get rid of the rest of the memory, of what happened when he came to my room late that night and found me sleeping.

I sit up, feeling like I'm choking on my own breath and I retch, just barely able to hold it down. The heartburn that follows feels nasty, but it's better than vomiting at least.

Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I feel how stiff my body is. Rolling my neck and shoulders to release some of the tension, I slip off the bed and change into a dry sweater before I leave my room and make my way downstairs.

I'm not even surprised when I see there is a light on in the living room, but I startle violently when I see it's Carlisle sitting on the couch, a book in his lap.

He looks over his shoulder just when I am about to turn, but it's too late, he's seen me.

My heart picks up speed immediately. I've tried to avoid him after I hurt him this morning, or at least tried to not be alone with him. The memory of my dream lingers freshly in my mind and I am wary immediately, afraid of what Carlisle will do now that he has me alone.

Cold sweat breaks out and trickles down my back, the faint tickle distracting me.

"Hello," Carlisle smiles gently, closing his book. "Couldn't sleep?"

I shake my head in denial but it doesn't the answer correctly anyway.

I'm scared.

"What has you so wound up?" he asks. "Why don't you sit down for a bit? Let me get you some tea."

My breath stutters but I force myself to move and sit in the winged chair, breathing shallowly and so very worried about what will happen.

Within moments it seems Carlisle is back with a mug of tea and he places it before me on the coffee table before he sits down in his old spot on the couch again.

"Talk to me, Bella," he says softly. "You are obviously frightened. Did something happen?"

I don't know how to answer this question. Because something happened, but it was earlier today and I'm not even sure if and how to refer to that.

Carlisle reaches into the drawer underneath the coffee table and pulls out a notepad and pen, pushing them in my direction. "Please talk to me. Perhaps I can help to take away your fears."

Breathing shakily I look at the paper and pen before me.

"Bella," Carlisle says gently when I hesitate too long. "If you don't want to talk I understand, but you are obviously frightened and I wish you would tell me what has upset you so much. Did you have a bad dream?"

It's safe enough to say yes, I think.

"Will you tell me about it?"

I shake my head. No way. No way in hell.

"Okay, that's okay. Is your dream why you are so worried now?"

I shake my head again, unable to lie as always.

"Then what is it?" Carlisle urges. "Help us take away your fears, Bella. Let us in a little bit?"

I heave a deep sigh, interrupted by a shaky sob. I've become useless at trying to hide my emotions and now my eyes are burning with the beginning of tears, too.

Excellent.

Maybe you just need to get this over with, my inner voice whispers. Anticipation is always worse than the actual thing and you know it.

Don't I know it?

I swallow thickly, tensely, audibly, and write.

I stood on you. Hurt you. I am so sorry.

Carlisle reads and frowns. "You didn't hurt me. Is that what you worry about? Are you afraid I would be angry?"

I nod, emotions overwhelming me and blurring my vision.

"I am not, Bella. You stepped into me, that can happen. I'm sorry it upset you so. But you didn't hurt me and you shouldn't worry about that. Even if you did, it would have been an accident. You didn't do it on purpose."

His words swirl in my mind for a moment before the meaning sets in.

Not on purpose. He makes a difference between willful and involuntary acts. But even still, I did it, right?

Can I push this through? Do I have the courage?

But I did it and it was my fault

"No it wasn't," he answers gently, but solemnly. "It was an accident. There was nobody at fault. You are not to blame for what happened."

I have to know, even if I will curse my insecurity forever.

You are not angry?

"I am not, Bella. And there will be no repercussions. Besides, remember the contract? Because I do. No violence. No punishment."

Silence.

"Do you hear me, Bella? Nothing happened today. You bumped into me, so what? Perhaps I'll bump into you some day. We live in a full house, it can happen. Would you be angry with me if I did it on accident?"

My eyes go wide at this ridiculous notion. Of course not!

Carlisle smiles. "There you have it. It goes both ways, Bella. An accident is an accident." He shrugs. "They're bound to happen. And I'm not angry. I was just worried about you because you seemed so upset. Are you feeling better now?"

I nod, feeling better indeed. And for some strange reason, feeling lighter, too.

~O~

On Monday after school I help Alice again with some last minute studying for Trig. I am confident myself I will pass this test, so I can focus completely on Alice. I have made up some test exercises for her, a little different from the ones in the book. She has done those so often she knows how to solve them, but for the wrong reasons. The new exercises should really test her knowledge. She chews on her pen as she mulls over the numbers on her paper. In the meantime I leaf through a book I got from the school library for my Gym assignment.

I have decided to do it on the Special Olympics, for lack of inspiration for a better subject. I am doing research and as I get further into the subject it starts to come alive for me more and more.

Carlisle comes to bring us drinks and asks how it is going.

"Bella made me these extra exercises for Trig," Alice says. "To help me prepare for the test tomorrow."

"That is very kind of you," Carlisle tells me.

I look away, uneasy with the compliment.

Carlisle chuckles. "Still not used to praise?"

I shake my head and blush, and he smiles again. "What are you working on?"

I close the book so he can see the title.

"It's for her Gym assignment, I think," Alice says helpfully.

"Ah," Carlisle answers. "The Special Olympics?"

I nod.

"Any specific subtheme?"

I nod again.

Carlisle sits down at the table with us. "Tell me?"

I write down briefly that I want to do it on the psychological aspect of it, of achieving these goals with different abilities.

"That is very interesting," he says, approving. "Can you find information on it?"

Some testimonials. Hard to find information.

"You didn't choose an easy subject. I have some medical books that may have information about this. Would you be interested in browsing them?"

Stunned, I nod carefully.

"Come by my office some time. I can help you along?"

I swallow and nod again, amazed at his offer. I can sense no ulterior motive. He seems genuinely nice. I know I'll have to be careful, but I realize too that him asking me to come to his office isn't half as scary as I thought it would be.

Perhaps he really wants to help.

Carlisle smiles and gets up again, leaving me to help Alice with Trig. We finish up when she feels a bit more confident, but as soon as she closes the book, her shoulders sag.

"I'll never pull this off."

I frown. She doesn't see herself very clearly. I unfold a crumpled piece of paper that was going into the trash and write down quickly.

Of course you can.

She looks at me, eyes wide and uncertain. "You think?"

I nod with all the conviction I can muster. I'm sure she'll be fine.

Tuesday at school is calmer. It's so unbelievably cold and my fingers are stiff because I can't seem to warm up. I move through classes and savior the recurring pattern of things, gathering a feeling of safety in knowing where to go, knowing what will happen.

In Trig, Alice is wringing her hands, nervous. I want to reassure her but am distracted by a loudly chatting Jessica.

"I am going to suck sooo hard at this," she whines to Alice. "I am so sure I am going to fail!"

"I'm sure you'll do well," Alice mutters, looking pale with her own worries.

"I'm not!" Jessica exclaims. "I might as well just not do the test."

"Then don't," Alice snaps, losing her patience. "Try if that really helps."

"Jeez, lighten up," Jessica mutters. "Or do you want me to fail?"

"Of course not," Alice spits. She opens her mouth to say more, but the teacher calls the class to attention and I move to my seat. Alice meets my gaze and I nod at her in what I hope is a reassuring way. She gives me a weak smile and turns to face front as the teacher hands out the stencils.

To me, the test is easy. Seriously. I am done in twenty minutes and I read over my answers, checking if I didn't forget anything.

Nope, looks good to me.

I sit back in my chair carefully, not looking around or doing anything to draw attention. The teacher notices me however.

"Are you finished, Bella?"

Startled, I meet his gaze and nod.

He gets up and comes to me, picking the paper up from my desk. He glances over the answers and nods almost imperceptibly.

"Do you have any homework for other subjects?" he asks very quietly so as not to disturb the girl next to me.

I nod, eyes wide.

"Stay quiet and keep yourself occupied," he instructs, and he leaves my table again. "Eyes front," he tells the rest of the class, and I meet Alice's gaze before she looks to her paper again.

I hope the test not too difficult for her.

Moving slowly and quietly I take a book from my bag for my Gym thesis. It's plain interesting to read and before I know it the bell rings.

Alice comes up to me immediately. "You were done quickly," she says, breathless.

I nod.

"Was it that easy for you?"

I nod again, uncomfortable now.

"You were done so early!" Jessica says, coming up to us too. "Was it that bad?"

I shake my head.

"Well you can't have passed it if you were done so fast, I mean, you can't possibly have done all the assignments in that time. Did you skip some?"

I shake my head, almost frowning at her assumption.

"Maybe you forgot some. God, I didn't have time to finish at all! I'm sure I just failed."

I wish Jessica would just leave. We don't have much time and I really want to know how Alice thinks she did. I meet her gaze and try to convey my question with my eyes and a nod.

"I don't know. But I did recognize some of the things because you explained them to me. We'll see," she says doubtfully.

Jessica loses interest quickly and is already moving away, to her next class.

"Keep your head up," Alice says when I follow Jessica with my eyes. "They don't have half the personality you have. They have nothing on you."

I smile weakly at her words and let her walk me to Spanish. "See you at lunch."

~O~

During Biology, Edward is next to me as always. Again we have an assignment with the microscope to work on in pairs. For once it isn't that easy for me and Edward talks me through it patiently, easing my worry that he would find it tedious to explain something to someone like me.

"Do you have your first therapy session today?" he asks quietly, keeping his gaze focused on his work.

I swallow, and nod, wondering how he knows.

"Scared?"

Yes, very.

"I'm sure it will be okay. I believe dad made a big effort to find someone he thinks would suit you."

I can't really react to this, because I don't know what to say.

"You can do this, you know," he says softly. "I think I can imagine why you're not exactly excited to go there, but I really think you are strong enough for this."

I move, uncomfortable, and focus more intently on the assignment.

"I'm sorry, I'll let it go," he whispers, and for a while we move in silence.

When it's my turn to check the microscope again, he starts to push it toward me at the moment I reach out to get it. Our hands brush and I pull back as if struck by lightning, more shocked by the sudden touch than anything else.

"Sorry," he mumbles, sitting back so I can check the microscope.

He pulls it back to his side of the table to check my observations, and changes the slide before he pushes it toward me again.

We work alongside each other, and two more times he brushes against my hand. When I look up, slightly irritated and confused, he meets my gaze.

"Sorry," he says again, but the corner of his mouth twitches in the beginnings of a smile.

I pull my hands back and hide them under the table, and wonder what his game is. He focuses back on the assignment and says nothing until class is almost over.

"How's the Gym thesis coming along?"

He really seems to be intent on talking today. I make a gesture to indicate it's coming along.

"Where do you get your information?" he asks. "Online?"

I nod again.

"I was wondering, if you want to go to the library in Port Angeles, I can drive you there. I want to go there anyway, so if you want to hitch a ride?"

I blink and look at him, hearing his offer but balking at the thought of being alone with him for so long.

Edward looks pained for some reason, but he masks it and tries to smile. "Think about it. I'd like it if you would consider letting me take you there. It would get you out of the house, too."

It would, but every nerve ending in my body resists in protest.

After a long silence, Edward speaks once more. "If I ask Alice to come, would you consider it? She'd probably not go to the library with us, but if she drove with us, would you consider coming along?"

I think for a long moment, then slowly nod. He's going anyway and I really want to see the library. And if Alice comes along, much like with Carlisle, I'll consider it.

His smile couldn't be more victorious.

French translations:

"Qu'est-ce que tu as fait maintenant, Isabella?" – What have you done now, Isabella?

"Réponds-moi, qu'est-ce que tu as fait?" – Answer me, what have you done?

"Qu'est-ce que je vais faire avec toi, hm?" – What am I going to do with you, hm?

"Parle!" – Speak!

"Regarde moi." – Look at me.

"Ta faute. Tout c'est de ta faute." – Your fault. Everything is your fault.

~O~

Let me know what you think?