I'm super excited to finally begin posting the second half of the story begun with Stepping from Shadows. The fic itself is still a work in progress, but it's getting there. As of today, 4/1/2020, I'm almost 2,000 words into chapter 17. I broke my own cardinal rule and published the first chapter before the fic was finished, or at least close to finished, but I had good reason. Anyone who read Stepping from Shadows might remember that Gray, my OC incarnation of vampire Bella, was a suffragette during her human lifetime. This first chapter was posted the day before the midterm election day here in the U.S. I thought it was a good time to remember that not even 100 years ago, women in the U.S. did not have the right to vote and to say Thank You to all the real life women who risked everything and fought so that all of us could speak our minds. I expect the whole fic will be in the low 20s for chapters. I'm hoping to have a posting schedule of twice a month, on the 1st and 15th, ish. There are a few changes to canon here and there, some small, some big. A lemon or two . . . Hopefully a little drama and a little humor.

A huge thank you Raum and to Patricia for all their help, advice, and their endless patience, and to everyone else who has helped this Pennsylvania girl with advice, recommendations, and information on the Olympic Peninsula.

This story is set in 2012.

Disclaimer - All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners.

And now, finally, on with the story. . . .

Chapter 2

Monday brought cloudy skies and an on-again, off-again drizzle. And the forecast was for much of the same for the rest of the week. Looking out at the gray sky stretching out above them, Edward felt a thrill of excitement run through him. As he left his room, he felt like he was walking on air.

In the kitchen, his father sat half hidden behind the newspaper, but Edward could feel his eyes on him as he crossed the room and could hear agitation in the way he rustled the pages.

"You look happy for a Monday."

"Do I?"

As Edward put bread in the toaster, his eyes fell on a small rubber ball his father had been given by his physical therapist. The cold splash of reality knocked him back to the ground. Three times a day, his father was supposed to work with the ball, squeezing it to increase the strength in his hand.

With a side glance at his father, Edward thought about the promise he'd made to Grace, and he remembered the intensity of the relief he'd felt when his father had charged into Newton's that day. He'd looked like a superhero to Edward. Ten feet tall and invincible, made of steel. He remembered how it had felt to hug him, how it had felt for his father to hold him tight. It was like he'd been able to breathe again. Almost an adult or not, once he'd seen his father, it was all going to be okay.

Most clearly, though, he remembered the sickening feeling of the blood soaked, shredded fabric of his father's uniform where the bullet had exited his shoulder. Standing in their kitchen, he looked down at his hand. He could still see his father's blood on his palm.

The toaster popped, and Edward jumped.

"Okay," his father said. It was a statement, not a question. He was okay.

Edward nodded. When he sat down at the table, he thought about the bone-chilling dread he'd felt when he'd heard the words "officer down" and how he'd fought against Grace to get up. She'd promised him it wasn't his father. She'd known, of course, but he'd had no idea of that then.

"Okay?" his father asked. A question that time.

"Yeah. Sometimes, I just. . . ."

"Yeah. Yeah, same here."

"How's the physical therapy?"

His father curled his fingers into a loose fist. "Like I said, good as new by buck season."

Glad to hear that, Edward felt tension ease as he spread peanut butter on his toast. He thought about asking about the psychiatrist that had been recommended to his father, but he didn't. Grace had said it needed to be in his father's time. No one else's. They sat quietly as he ate. Not easily, but maybe a little bit more easily than they had been since that day on the res, and Edward found himself clinging to it, afraid of something breaking it.

His father exhaled and pinched the bridge of his nose. He folded up the paper and leaned forward, elbow on the table.

"Got an eighty on a trig test," Edward said.

His father's eye brows rose. "Well, that's good."

Any other subject, and an eighty would never be called good, but math had always been his weakness.

"Yeah. Grace's really good at it." He'd spoken without thinking, and Edward tensed as he glanced at his father from the corner of his eye. His expression had changed, closed off. "She really helped me a lot," he said in an undertone, eyes on his plate.

"Has she?" his father asked sharply before getting up and crossing the room. Just like that, a chasm had opened up between them, and Edward sagged in his chair.

"Dad, I. . . ."

His father looked at him and waited, but Edward didn't know what to say. He'd said it all already. Everyday, his father looked older and more tired than he had the day before. His face had never been wrinkled before, but now there were lines around his eyes. He was unshaven, and a scattering of silver hairs along his jaw stood in stark contrast among the dark.

His father picked up a dish towel only to toss it back down a moment later.

"I don't want to argue with you anymore," Edward said.

"You can't trust them. I know you think you can, but you can't. They only think about themselves, what they want. She's not gonna care if you say you don't want—"

"Tanya cares about what you want."

The effect of his words on his father was instant and absolute. He couldn't have frozen anymore stiffly had he literally been turned to stone.

"Grace said she misses you," Edward said.

His father scoffed but didn't otherwise respond.

"She and Tanya, she said they went after the guy who got away that day. She said you told her you expected her to honor the treaty they'd made with the Quileute." Grace had also said she wasn't sure she'd have been able to let the fucker live, but Edward left that bit out. "When they lived here before, when they made that treaty with Jake's great grandfather, when they left, they went to London. It was World War II. She worked with wounded soldiers. Any one of those men could've been Uncle Charlie."

His father's posture shifted, but didn't relax. Edward couldn't remember when he'd learned about his great uncle. It was just something he'd always known, his great uncle who'd been killed in WWII and was buried in Arlington.

There was so much more Edward wanted to tell his father about Grace. He wanted him to see the amazing girl he did. He wanted to say, again, that Grace wasn't the monster he thought she was, that she was amazing and brilliant and funny, but his father hadn't listened any of the other times he'd argued just that. Why should now be any different?

*.*

It was weird, sitting in Mr. Varner's old classroom. Mrs. Varner was putting the house up for sale and moving away with her boys, back to wherever it was she was from. Edward didn't know why, he'd never even liked Mr. Varner, but he found the sight of the For Sale sign in the front lawn depressing.

Grace sat next to him, and he glanced over at her. Her eyes were on him, and she tilted her head to one side. Edward shook his head.

When the bell rang, they made their way out of the room, their hands automatically reaching out for each other. Other kids still stared at them, he knew, but not as many now. The novelty was wearing off.

Grace tugged on his hand.

"You looked very pensive just now."

"It was nothing. I was just thinking about the Varners."

The last class before lunch was gym, one of the classes Grace and he shared with both Jasper and Alice, and they met up in the hallway.

Jasper and Alice.

Grace's thumb stroked the back of Edward's hand, and she walked closer to him, close enough that their arms pressed together from shoulder to joined hands. Edward could feel Jasper's eyes on him, but when he glanced over, he was looking straight ahead.

At the locker room door, Grace gave him a quick kiss. "See you soon." Before she and Alice left them for the girls' lockers, Edward saw her shift her eyes to Jasper, giving him a harder look than he'd ever seen pass between them before. Not knowing what she'd heard in his mind to cause that look made Edward even more uncomfortable, and he inched farther away from Jasper.

The room wasn't big, but Jasper had a whole section of lockers on the other side of the room to himself. The rest of the guys were clustered together, subconsciously seeking the false sense of safety numbers gave them. They were laughing, busting on one of their friends who was going to ask a girl to prom that afternoon, when Edward got dragged into it.

"Least Swan doesn't have to worry about getting a date, huh?" Tyler asked, giving him a shove. "You ever gonna tell us how you landed a girl that looks like that? I mean, fuck, man!"

Edward bristled, and he glanced across the room toward Jasper. Though they were keeping their voices low, Edward was sure Jasper'd heard that, although nothing about him gave it away. That was part of what made Jasper so unnerving. Nothing about him gave away what he was thinking or feeling, but when he turned his eyes on you, the intensity of his stare could made the hair on the back of your neck stand up. And he'd know it. As Grace had said, he was empathic. He knew exactly how he made you feel.

The guys continued to needle him.

"She is hot as fucking hell."

"Seriously, dude. You are one lucky fucker."

Edward's teeth clenched. Jasper wasn't the only one who could hear what the guys were saying. Grace would be able to as well.

"Watch it," Mike warned when their voices rose as they laughed. "Her cousin's over there."

Edward expected that would be the end of it, but it went on, though the voices dropped even lower than they'd started.

"Come on, spill. How far'd you get?"

"Watch your mouth," Edward said, standing up and drawing himself up to his full six-foot-two.

"Ooh, testy."

Guys laughed.

"Must've struck out."

"Swing and a miss."

When one of the guys said the word tease, Edward saw red. He grabbed him by the collar and slammed him against the locker.

Immediately, a sense of calm washed over him so strongly, he felt drugged, and he staggered backward, his arms falling limp. Jasper was at his side, his hand on Edward's shoulder, gently but firmly pushing him back. The other guys looked drunk, their eyes unfocused. Blinking, they came back to themselves, if a bit dazed and confused looking, and they fled the locker room, tripping over each other as they went.

Grace had said Jasper didn't just feel other people's emotions, but he could influence them as well, and Edward realized that was what they'd all just experienced. His temper flared. He didn't want anyone messing around with his head and what he felt.

"You want to tell me what that was all about?" Jasper asked coldly.

"You heard them."

"I did." Jasper's calm, cool demeanor ticked Edward off further.

"You heard what they called her."

"It doesn't matter."

"The fuck it doesn't—"

"Nothing anyone says about us matters—and believe me, we get talked about a lot and worse than that. You think I didn't want to shut them up? We can't afford to react because reacting leads to more talking, and that can lead to asking questions. You want to be with Gray? Learn to ignore what people say. We can't afford any attention drawn to ourselves. Gray can't afford it."

"So, I'm just supposed to ignore it when someone insults her?"

"No. Underreacting stands out just as much as overreacting. Humans have expectations of behavior, established norms. Stick within them. Have you ever shoved someone against a row of lockers before? No? Then you do not do it now."

Edward stewed like a child being reprimanded, but he knew Jasper was right. "Did she hear them, do you think?" He could handle being told off by Jasper, as long as Grace hadn't heard what they'd called her.

"It's more likely she's hearing about it now. We don't hang on every word said within a hundred yards, but we do keep an ear out for our names."

"And right now, they're all thinking about what just happened."

"Exactly."

"You don't like me being with Grace, do you?"

"I don't like situations I can't plan exit strategies for." A little more friendly, he added, "Nothing personal." Jasper paused, and his face relaxed, something almost like a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. "I'm not going to bite you, you know."

"Thanks for that."

Jasper tipped his head. "Not that I haven't considered it."

Edward paled, and Jasper grinned more widely, showing off just a sliver of white teeth. Jasper studied him, and Edward resisted the urge to squirm—or to book it.

"You've got a backbone," Jasper said. He folded his arms, the muscles obvious and flexed. "Now, at the risk of sounding like an old-fashioned older brother, what are your intentions toward my sister?"

Edward choked. Jasper didn't only know what he made Edward feel, he knew what Grace made him feel.

"My what?"

Jasper laughed, something Edward had never seen before and felt very out of place. "I don't mean those sort of intentions. Humans, especially at your age, don't think much beyond the next few years at the most. We don't have the luxury. What do you plan to do after high school?"

"Um, college?"

"Then what?"

"Get a job?"

"Where?"

"I don't know. Wherever I can find one? I mean, Olympic National Park would be great, but—"

"And Gray will do what? Enroll in high school here in Forks again?"

Edward's shoulder fell.

"Hadn't thought that far out?"

Sitting back down on the bench, Edward shook his head.

"We have," Jasper said.

"Yeah. I get that."

"It isn't that I don't like your being with Gray. Were you not human, no one would be happier than I."

Edward slumped "But I am human."

Jasper dipped his head. "And humans are notoriously capricious. You genuinely care about her. I know that. You want to be with her, and you believe you always will. But you're seventeen. When you're twenty-two and can't take a job close to your father because Gray needs to move a thousand miles away to avoid exposure, what then? Say you chose her. Seven or eight years later, you have to uproot yourself and do it all over again. And then again. And again. Will you still want to be with her then? You'll never be able to have a family. We can't have children. You might not think that matters at seventeen, but what about at thirty-five? You'll never be able to settle anywhere. You'll have to create and abandon lives over and over. You won't even be able to keep in touch with anyone. Would you give all that up, just to be with her? You may think you will, but if you do, one day, you might regret it. You might decide it was too much to give up. Then what?"

"That's what she meant." Elbows on his knees, Edward ran his hand over his face. "She said that one day I might feel differently, and if that happened, she said she'd respect my wishes."

"She would."

If Jasper had these concerns, why did he ever encourage Grace to go to the Hoh with him that day?

No sooner had Edward asked himself the question than he answered it. Her family had expected her to turn him, but now that she'd promised him she wouldn't—

How much grief was she getting because of that promise? Grace had asked him—begged him—not to fight with his father over her, and he'd agreed. He'd known her family was uncomfortable with their relationship, but it had never occurred to him that they would be arguing with her over him as much as his father and he had been arguing over her.

He should have, he realized now.

God, could this get any more complicated?

"Times up," Jasper said. "Coach Clapp has mustered up the nerve to come and look for us." When Edward stood up, Jasper added, "Apart from Alice, there's no one more dear to me than Gray. I don't want to see her hurt."

"I'd never hurt her."

"Yes, you will. One day, one way or another, you will."

Edward bristled. He squared his shoulders and drew a breath, ready to argue, but the arrival of Coach Clapp telling them to get their butts out there cut him off. The teacher looked suspiciously between them, but Edward knew the questions he'd be asking any other two students, he wouldn't them.

"Sorry, Coach," Jasper said lightly. "My fault."

Edward followed him out of the room, his eyes boring into the back of Jasper's head. As they passed the teacher, he put a hand on Edward's shoulder, stopping him.

"Everything okay, Edward?"

"Just fine, sir," he lied.

The teacher held him there for a moment, but nodded. He didn't believe him, Edward was sure, but he looked relieved not to have to deal with whatever Edward wasn't telling him.

Across the gym, Alice stood beside Grace, talking intently and being ignored. What was Alice trying to persuade her? The expression on Grace's face was tight and hard, and her eyes were locked on Jasper.

*.*

Charlie set his jaw and counted to three in his head. On three, he closed his fingers around the gear shift as best he could, and with a grunt, he put the car in park.

He sat back heavily. That wasn't so bad. The shoulder was getting better, he lied to himself.

Inside the Thriftway, he could rest his right hand on the cart but push with his left. To anyone who saw him, nothing would look any different than normal. But to him . . . Charlie looked at his hands and flexed and curled his fingers—those on his left hand gripping the cart white knuckled, those on his right could barely managed the strength to not slip off.

Midday during the workweek was the best time to get the shopping done. Hardly anyone was around. He avoided the busier times and all the inevitable questions about how he was doing, but more importantly, he avoided the possibility of running into one of the Cheneys. Charlie's insides clenched. The thought of having to face Chris Cheney's parents made him feeling like puking.

Making his way through the store as quickly as he could, he picked out things he could make easily. He'd always been a simple, basic cook, but he'd gotten by. There'd always been frozen lasagnas and those frozen pasta and chicken dinners in the blue bag, there were just more of them now. But he could still throw a roast and vegetables into the crock pot and make Edward a good meal.

Edward.

Charlie's breath caught in his throat. His heart ached, and he pressed his hand to his chest.

Edward. God, if anything happened to him—if that girl and the rest of them did anything to him—

Clearing his throat, Charlie made himself move. He was not going to let himself break down in the middle of the grocery store, but pushing his cart toward the beer section, he saw a couple of Vitamin Rs in his future when he got home.

Another shopper came out of their aisle and knocked into him, and he hissed through clenched teeth as the jolt sent a shock of sharp pain from his shoulder down his arm. The pain made him nauseous and his legs weak.

"Oh!" the woman said. "Charlie, I'm so sorry."

Jenny Wentz stood in front of him, looking alarmed—Jenny Mason now, he reminded himself, even if she had gotten divorced. One of the prettiest girls in school back in their day, now Edward's English teacher. "I'm so sorry," she repeated with a wince, her hand coming up to her mouth. "I wasn't paying attention."

"S'okay." he said, releasing the breath he'd sucked in. "I wasn't watching either."

He hoped he could escape, just leave it at that and get done and get out, but Jenny didn't seem ready to leave. She moved her shopping basket from one hand to the other.

"Run out on lunch?" Charlie asked. "You must have to get back to school."

"I have a little time. It must be so difficult, taking care of a house . . . getting everything done."

"I manage." Charlie could see the white Rainier cans from there. "We manage."

"Edward must be a big help."

Edward. Charlie pressed his lips together and nodded.

"He's a sweet boy. You're very lucky."

Blinking hard, he nodded again.

"It hurts that much?" she asked with a grimace.

Charlie focused his attention on a random point in front of him and concentrated on breathing.

Jenny paused. From the corner of his eye, she looked uncomfortable, and Charlie hoped she was just going to go. But rather than leave, she seemed inclined to linger.

"He's got himself one beautiful girlfriend," she said.

Charlie flinched as his gut clenched.

"Oh, come on. It's not that long since we were their age," she said with a smile. "And she seems like a nice girl. She's very bright."

Yeah, she was great. Edward was all about how great she was, the things she'd done, the things she'd studied. He went on and on.

"And you know, we're not all that old now." She moved closer to him, and Charlie felt his eyes widen as she smiled and looked up at him through her lashes.

*.*

"Are you going to tell me what those looks were about before?"

Next to him, Grace had unwrapped the sandwich she'd gotten for lunch. She inspected it briefly, pulling a face and crinkling her nose. Pushing it away, she brushed her hands off and shrugged.

"Nothing of any importance."

Edward hummed. His looked around them. The cafeteria was crowded and loud, but the tables immediately around them remained empty. They always did. His eyes drifted around the room, but he abruptly turned away when Ben Cheney walked in, his head hung low, a small group of close friends clustered around him. Edward rubbed the back of his neck and turned to the other side of the room where Alice and Jasper were just paying for food they wouldn't touch. Neither looked in their direction, but he knew both had heard his question and Grace's answer. It was disturbing to him, but with the strength of their senses, privacy was a concept Grace's family had lost long ago. He pushed his own lunch aside. As much as that sucked, he didn't like being the one in the dark.

"You should eat," she said.

"You didn't want him to tell me any of that."

Grace's eyes fell away, and she frowned.

"For once," she said, "I just wanted to be able to enjoy now, enjoy today, and not have to worry about what comes years down the road, to not have what I am ruin it."

Reaching for her hands, Edward wished he could take her in his arms and shield her, protect her from everything. He wanted to stand between her and the world. He wanted to give her the world.

"He was right, though. Everything he said is true. You need to understand just how much you stand to lose."

Edward squeezed her hand.

"He won't," she said. "Jasper. What—what he said he'd considered. He won't."

A shudder ran through Edward. He believed her. But he also believed Jasper meant it when he said he'd considered it. Grace had told him she'd considered it herself as well—that were she like the others out there, nomads she'd called them, she'd have already done it. He had a feeling, though, that Jasper had considered it more, and for longer. Across the room, Jasper and Alice lingered, giving them at least the semblance of privacy. They looked lost, walking at a snail's pace, stopping and turning to each other, talking earnestly.

"This is ridiculous. They can hear every word we say anyway, they might as well just come here already."

"They're sorry they make you uncomfortable."

"Yeah, well. . . ." Edward resisted the urge to curl his hand around his neck.

"You were very gallant," Grace said, her expression lightening as she laced her fingers through his, "leaping to defend my reputation. My very own knight in cotton gym clothes."

Edward stroked her thumb with his. There had to be some way to make this work.

"That feels so nice," she said.

Jasper and Alice sat across from them. Alice smiled widely, showing her teeth, and Edward resisted the urge to shrink back.

"You look so good together." she said.

Next to him, Grace curled against his side.

Jasper looked seriously at him, but when his eyes shifted to Grace, his face softened.

Yeah, they were going to make this work.

Edward wrapped his arm around Grace.

Because the alternative was unacceptable.

*.*

Feeling Edward beside her, his thumb stoking her own, it was hard for Gray to concentrate on anything other than his warmth and how perfect it felt to be so close to him. For a few brief moments, she could shut out the world and truly believe that nothing existed outside of themselves. But the world outside of them did exist, and the happy thoughts another mind broadcast over the others inside her head forced reality back on her.

She drew a breath, and her eyes moved in the direction of the woman whose thoughts had intruded on her own so forcefully.

What is it? Jasper asked her.

Gray buried her face against Edward. He trailed his fingers down her spine, and hummed into her hair, asking her what was wrong without words.

Gray? Alice asked.

Gray shook her head.

Tanya. . . .

There you have chapter two! Finally. Little bit of a hint of what's to come. Drop me a review and let me know what you thought, and I'll respond with a teaser for chapter three, which I hope to post on the 15th. I'm hoping for a 1st and 15th posting schedule.