Thank you so much for all of your reviews to the previous chapter, and responses to the teaser. In addition, thank you for the nomination over at the Lemonade Stand, and for any recommendations posted elsewhere.

"But I say it's not enough—you can't go back to the old life if you wanted to. Too much has happened."

"I know that," she said sadly.

"Not only pain and sorrow, but wonderful things…"

Where Angels Fear to Tread

thirty-seven

I've lost Dad and now I've lost Jake.

There are no sidewalks in La Push but her feet move unerringly across the asphalt shoulder, black eyes barely lifting from the damp, torn clothes clutched in her hands.

I've lost Dad and now I've lost Jake.

The words are a bitter refrain, angry tears pricking her eyes as her figure swiftly cuts through the winding streets and back roads of the town she has lived in since birth. She refuses to lift a hand from the clothes held close to her chest, blinking rapidly to prevent the tears from falling. She hates crying, loathes any appearance of weakness, her lips thinning to prevent their trembling. Her dad had always said she should have been a boy; his little hoyden with skinned knees and bruised shins, too impatient to let her hair grow past her shoulders, a spitfire more comfortable in Jake's garage than her mother's kitchen.

But now her dad is gone and she has to be strong for Seth and her mom. Jake had been the only one to see her cry in the wake of her father's death, the only one she could allow herself to be weak and soft with…but now she's lost him, too.

Leah's tread is angry and heavy as she stomps up the paved path to the Clearwater house, slamming the screen door behind her. She crosses the living room to the kitchen, drawn by the sound of voices, fury rising in her chest. I've lost Dad and now I've lost Jake. For there he is, standing at the sink with a cup of coffee in one tanned hand while that bloodsucker sits at the kitchen table, his head in his hands.

She resists a growl of frustration as the vampire speaks, his voice melodic and doubtful. "How can you be sure?"

"I'm telling you, man," Jake replies, lips twisting. "She was a wreck. There's no way she went off to Phoenix or Seattle…or wherever. Dollars to donuts, I bet she's out there looking for you."

How can he be comforting this awful creature? "I got your clothes from the beach," Leah interrupts, her voice sharp. "I don't think the shirt can be mended but my mom can probably sew up the jeans."

"If she ever forgives me," Jake sighs.

A puff of exasperation passes Leah's lips, wordlessly expressing her doubt on the matter. If anything, she's grateful her mom and Seth are visiting cousins up near Tulalip and didn't have to bear witness to the excruciating embarrassment of the night before.

Her gaze falls to her hands, her lips twisting mutinously at the memory. She had thought the night would end so differently, a moment of relief in the chaos and grief of the past few weeks. Most of the younger kids had gone home earlier, only teenagers and adults left circled around the bonfire at that late hour, the moon high and bright in the sky. Curled up against Jake's side, his jacket over her shoulders, the glow of the bonfire warming her cheeks, she had thought to herself that perhaps she could begin to feel normal again. Though she and Jake had argued about his insane trip up to Alaska, he had returned safely and remained thankfully silent on the topic of whatever he had experienced there. It was bad enough he'd defied Sam and put himself in danger so soon after she'd lost her dad, but at least he hadn't come back with tales of how vampires were actually lovely and harmless.

If anything, she was full of anticipation knowing that her mom and Seth were out of the house. She and Jake could be alone, the house mercifully empty. And if she found herself crying as she drifted off to sleep, memories of her dad fresh and sharp in her mind, then at least Jake would be there, a comforting presence.

But it was not to be. Leah doesn't know who sensed the vampire's presence first, only that people were suddenly on their feet and running in all directions, camp chairs turned upright, beer cans and plates of food falling to the ground. She had stumbled back—or Jake had lunged forward…she isn't sure. But as she had gained her footing, eyes rising from her unsteady feet, she had seen the pale figure, dripping with water, hair slick against his head, eyes black and empty as he slowly approached the melee.

In retrospect she wonders that her first instinct had not been to flee, to follow the others scrambling through the darkness towards the steep path that led to the gravel lot above the beach. But she had been frozen, mouth agape, eyes wide as she watched the vampire draw closer to the fire.

Her eyes had only shifted from his figure at the sound of a tortured groan—swiftly followed by the angry snarls and barks of an angry wolf. It's Sam, she thought, uncaring in these circumstances of someone seeing him phase, intent only on protecting the tribe. The large, hulking shape of the wolf had bounded around the fire, coming to a halt directly opposite the strangely languid vampire; it was almost as if the bloodsucker was sleepwalking, features blank, his gaze so terribly empty.

The sound of shredding clothes, seams protesting, fabric stretching and tearing, mixed with the snap of the fire—followed by the enraged snarls and howls of the wolves phasing in the light of the flames. Leah knew she should run but she was hypnotized by the sight…only coming to her senses when she realized with a start that Jake was among the figures forming a semi-circle before the fire, hackles raised, teeth bared as they faced the vampire.

"Jake," she'd whispered, desperation like a cold fist in her gut. She couldn't bear it if she lost him, too. She'd sucked in a breath, gaze darting over the dark shapes of the wolves, determined to act. But before she could move, one of the wolves was leaping through the air—Paul, she's almost certain. He'd never been one to wait for Sam's orders.

Only another wolf clipped him in mid-air, a gasp of shock bursting past her lips at the sight. She'd raised a hand as if to intervene, as if she could somehow influence what was happening before her—the two wolves, snarling and grappling on the ground, the semi-circle of the pack snapping and growling in turn, confusion and tension like a fog in the night air.

Nothing could have prepared her for what happened next. One of the wolves peeled away from the twist and spin of the fight, heedless of the teeth snapping at his tail, flinging himself at the silent, motionless vampire. Leah had jerked up her hands to cover her eyes, uncertain she could stand to see the carnage, however deserved.

Only, instead of hearing the baying and barking grow in intensity as the wolves eviscerated the vampire, the beach had fallen eerily silent. Slowly, holding her breath, she had reluctantly dropped her hands, frightened of what she might see. Leah blinked slowly, shaking her head, as if the motion would dispel the scene before her.

The wolf that had tackled the vampire did not rip and tear at the prone figure, rending him limb from limb. No, the wolf was crouched over the fallen vampire, a protective cage, eyes aglow as he growled and snarled at the semi-circle of stunned Quileutes.

The name escaped her lips as a question, desperate for any of the other wolves to turn around and meet her gaze. "Jake?" But none of the shaggy figures turned, glancing back to her reassuringly. Instead, the black eyes of the wolf protecting the prone vampire flicked her way before returning to the semi-circle of his tribesmen.

Leah stares down at her hands, at the nails gnawed raw over the course of the night that Jake had stood in defiance of his pack leader, of his tribe, a lone figure refusing to let the vampire come to an end. The standoff had lasted hours, some of the wolves phasing back into their human form to try to reason with Jake; Paul had angrily tossed piles of driftwood on the fire, determined to burn the vampire to ashes, even if that meant hurting Jake. Sam and Leah had intervened then, trying to reason with them both. But as the night wore on, it became clear that killing the vampire would mean killing Jake, too.

Leah shakes her head, blinking back fresh tears. She'd wanted to refuse Jake's request to bring the vampire to her house, to stamp her feet and smack his face and blaze at him for his incredible behavior. But he'd been weary and drained, his arm protective around the bloodsucker's shoulders. "Billy wouldn't understand. Please. Just for a few hours until Edward can be on his way."

Edward. Her lip curls, wishing she could block out the conversation he and the awful creature have been having since the sun had begun to peek over the horizon. "I swear to you, man. Didn't you see…?"

"In your thoughts, yes." The vampire's voice is curt, his dark eyes sinking shut—as if those thoughts pained him.

Leah thinks back, recalling Bella's expression moments ago when she'd encountered the pale girl down on the beach. Jake wasn't wrong—Bella's red-rimmed eyes and drawn features were clear evidence of her inner turmoil.

"Can't you echolocate and figure out where she is or something?"

But Edward has fallen silent and Leah looks up to see his black eyes, unnatural and discomfiting, fixed eerily on her face.

"I may not have to," he speaks softly, an undercurrent of threat beneath the words.

"What do you mean?" Jake asks, his own gaze trained on the third cup of coffee he's had that morning. When Edward doesn't respond, his eyes rise and to find Leah squirming beneath the vampire's scrutiny, her expression defiant. He glances to Edward, then back to Leah before speaking, his voice hard, "Did you see Bella? Is she here, in town?"

"What if I did?" Leah snaps, furious at his questioning.

"Why didn't you tell us she was here?" Jake demands, slamming his mug onto the counter. Anger vibrates through his entire frame, muscles tensed as he faces her.

"Haven't you done enough damage, Jake?" Leah blazes back, all of the anger and confusion of the previous night spilling forth, hands flung up in frustration. She had only wanted to see the pathetic girl gone, certain she was at the heart of all of this trouble and strife. "Haven't you already done enough?"

"Goddamnit, Leah, where is she?"

Leah's voice is a shout, hands thrust in her hair. "You're really going to take their side?"

But Edward is already gone, a flit of movement neither of them see leave, darting from the chair at the kitchen table, through the house and out onto the cool morning air, his figure a blur through the still-empty streets.

Could Jake be right? Could she have returned to Forks in pursuit of him? Edward almost doesn't see the winding roads before him, the beach fixed in his mind like a beacon. Desperation clenches in his chest, doubt hovering at the back of his thoughts even now. But she'd left, she'd run away as he'd always suspected she would.

Yet…Edward thinks of the images Jake had held in his mind as the wolf's hot breath warmed his face, the furred body protectively crouched over his own. Bella, in tears from the moment she'd gotten in the truck to return to Forks. Her gaze, turned hopefully to the road whenever they'd stopped for gas. Her words, breathless with restrained tears, "And just get in deeper and deeper until I don't know how to go on without him? I'm already in too deep."

It was the only thing that had kept him from throwing the wolf off, frozen and focused on these memories, these images of Bella, his Bella, just as lost as he was without her. He'd been unable to understand the barks and snarls exchanged by the wolves, but he could read in Jake's thoughts his insistence on sticking to the treaty, on not killing anyone who'd done the Quileutes no harm. For you have done no harm to us, Jake thinks before his mind shifts back to Bella, to the exhausted sadness of her expression after he'd dropped her off at her father's house upon returning to Forks. And she needs you, man. That much I know.

Edward is nearly to the beach when his ears pick up a strange sound, nearly muted by the pulse and roar of the ocean tide, his brow furrowing as he tries to place the faint clatter and ring. It is only when he's raced down the steep path to the shore that he spies the cell phone vibrating against the pebbles of the rocky shore, only feet from the black ring of the extinguished pyre.

Edward scans the beach and water as he races towards the buzzing phone, stooping to retrieve it as he continues to look for Bella, desperate to see her, desperate to know for sure…is Jake right? Did she leave out of fear of rejection rather than fear of what he is? But where is she?

"Edward! Edward!" He blinks in confusion as he hears Alice's voice through the abandoned phone, frantic and utterly panicked. "Edward, she's going to jump! Edward…oh, God, Edward! She would have waited for you—" The words are a breathless wail. "She would have waited for you to change your mind and make her like us, or be human forever—anything to be with you!" Her voice is breathless, the words speeding out so quickly they form only a desperate keen. "Oh, God, don't let it be too late!"

Anyone awake at that hour, in that lonely foggy place, would have been forgiven for thinking they were seeing things. How else to explain the pale youth, clothes still damp, hair a wild tangle, who appeared so suddenly on the rocky shore, features intent and watchful? Or how quickly he simply disappeared, an apparition snapping out of the ether like a ghost, here and then gone.

His body cuts through the water like a bullet, Alice's final words before he'd dropped the phone echoing in his ears. "The cliffs! The cliffs!" He can feel her panic and grief despite the thousands of miles of distance between them, her voice a cry for the loss of Bella. His Bella.

He pushes the unnatural limits of his body harder than he ever has before, determined to reach the cliffs before what Alice has seen comes to pass, to be there to catch her when she falls. The current is nothing against his limbs, the heavy push and pull of the tides as mild as a breeze as he cuts through the waves, gaze fixed upon the distant shadow before him—the sheer rise of the cliff face, an underwater monolith.

Lips sealed, he peers through the murk, the weak northwest sun dimmed even further beneath the weight of the water. The gloom is made eerie by the dance of the waves above, the little light available refracting and shimmering through the blue green sea. Despite this shadowed light, despite the churn of the waves directly above, water white and frothing where it crashes against the rocks, his eyes cannot miss the pale figure, still yards away, gently drifting beneath the surface. Edward's eyes widen, desperate for it to be someone else, for it to be a hallucination brought on by thirst and melancholy…but the slender figure turns, a weightless dancer spun by invisible currents, and the cloud of chocolate hair concealing her features shifts, revealing the still oval of Bella's face.

Edward's mouth opens with a soundless cry, limbs straining, striving to reach her side, desperation and fear like a cold rock in his stomach. He is upon her in seconds, arms wrapped around her waist, surging to the surface. "Bella!" he gasps, certain he'll hear the shocked sputtering for air that indicates she's taking a breath…

But her body is limp in his arms, too limp, like a doll neglectfully broken. His hands shake as he treads water, desperate to keep her above the froth of the waves, struggling to push the tangle of her hair away from her face. "Bella…" Her name emerges as a sob as he sees the blue of her lips, her skin nearly as cool as his own. He pulls her close and can feel the many points where her bones have broken, memory briefly sucking him back to those last sputtering breaths of another dying girl, another innocent, blood bubbling on her lips as she laid in the snow.

Edward pushes away the remembrance, determined Bella will not have the same end. He searches for the beat of her heart—either a flutter against his chest, steady and strong, or a pulse in his ears, comforting and magnetic. He is senseless of the toss and pull of the waves around them, his own breath silent in his chest as he waits, desperate for that single sound.

The weakest beat sounds against his chest, so slight he isn't certain at first that he imagined it, if it isn't simply the desperate hallucination of a mind driven mad by the thought of losing her. He can't lose her…

"She would have waited for you to change your mind and make her like us, or be human forever—anything to be with you…"

His eyes sink shut as he buries his face in the wet tangle of her hair, cradling her close. The delayed beat of her sluggish heart sounds again but it is weaker than before, his body growing cold with the knowledge that there is no time, certain that he will lose her, the hospital too far, her injuries too severe…

"And just get in deeper and deeper until I don't know how to go on without him?" The desperation and sorrow in her voice had been evident even in Jacob's memories. "I'm already in too deep."

His body shakes as he holds her close, quiet sobs lost against the pound of the waves. She had tried to leave, had tried to let him go knowing her heart would only break…but clearly it had been too late. She had been unable to stay away. If Alice was right, if Jake's memories are true, she had been willing to live as he wished, even if that meant dying slowly at his side…

"I would have you no other way."

That had been his choice, his wish. But what had she wanted? What did she long for, desires hidden behind dark eyes, her mind ever silent to him? He inhales her scent, nose flush against the skin of her cheek, his silent heart breaking…

And she needs you, man. That much I know.

Could it be true? In this moment, there is no way to know. Edward shakes his head, tormented, desperate for answers. Her heart beats, so weak, the flutter of a dying bird, cradled to his chest. He shakes his head again, realizing the only thing he knows for certain is that he cannot watch her go, he cannot let her drift away like this, broken and lost. He has to trust that she knew her heart and that she'd meant all she said.

"I belong with you."

As he opens his mouth, lips gentle against the tender flesh of her throat, he remembers her brave leap, her confident swan dive from the window high above, face lifted to the sky, certain he would catch her fall.