DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. All of my worldly possessions were given to the poor when I joined the convent. All except this one dress. The poor didn't want this one.

If you've read this far, you have a piece of my heart with you at all times. I can't even begin to describe how incredibly wonderful it is to write something and then see people reading it and leaving good reviews.

Seriously, thank you so much if you read this whole thing. I know it's long and grammatically unsound in many places, but if you'll bear with me I swear there's a plot hiding somewhere in this mess.

You might be wondering where I'm going with this story. All will be explained in good time. Be patient, young grasshopper, while I weave my web.

If it's not too much to ask, I'd also like to know if y'all have any criticisms. This is still a work-in-progress, so literally anything can be changed (within reason – remember, this is for fun, but I'd also like to make it good, if you know what I mean). If you have any qualms/questions/concerns with any of the chapters, let me know in a review. I usually reply if I can figure out how. Apparently I can't reply to guests? How rude. I'm thinking of cross-posting this to AO3 or Wattpad at some point. Would anyone be interested? If so, let me know in the usual way – Morse code, handwritten letters tied to the foot of a bird, muffled screeching in the distance, etc.

We have made it through canon, guys! Well, sorta. You'll see once you get to the end of this chapter. Oh, and I thought I should mention in case it wasn't clear: Jake does and always will have long hair in this fic. That's one change I am NOT willing to make. Long-hair Jake is the Real Jake, in my opinion.

I know I dumped a lot of chapters all at once, but please don't be expecting uploads like that all the time! I have a certain amount of this story finished, but a good chunk of it is still in bullet points. I'll let you know if/when we get to that point. If it gets any longer, I might have to separate it into two parts. So, without further ado, the part we've all been waiting for; canon divergence!

XIX

I jerked awake with a gasp, jumping to my feet. I spun around wildly, searching for the stimulus that had startled my subconscious enough to send me reeling back into the real world.

"Sorry," Billy grunted from the doorway. "Did we wake you?"

Billy's face was melted in lines of sorrow pulling down his weathered, leathery face, and I knew immediately why.

Bella wasn't slow, either. "Oh, no, Billy!" She moaned, voice thick with tears.

He nodded slowly, his expression hard with grief. I hurried over and took one of his hands, squeezing tightly. Billy squeezed back, staring up at me as his chin began to quiver. Sam was right behind Billy, pushing his chair through the door. His normal composure was absent from his agonized face.

"I'm so sorry," Bella whispered.

Billy nodded. "It's gonna be hard all around."

"Where's Charlie?"

"Your dad is still at the hospital with Sue. There are a lot of…" Billy paused, taking a deep breath. "Arrangements to be made," he finished, voice cracking.

I heard Bella swallow hard.

"I'd better get back there," Sam mumbled, then ducked hastily out the door. I suspected he wasn't going back to the hospital, but to the forest, where Leah and Seth had no doubt already heard the news.

Billy pulled his hand from mine, then rolled himself through the kitchen towards his room. I stared after him a minute, realizing there were tears falling from my eyes as well. I wiped them away quickly, then sat back on the floor beside Bella, putting my face in my hands. She rubbed my shoulders mutely, and I could feel her cool breath on the back of my neck. After a long moment, I caught her hand and held it to my face. It was cold, but that felt good; like an ice pack on a bump.

"How are you feeling? Are you okay? I probably should have taken you to a doctor or something," I sighed.

"Don't worry about me," she croaked.

I twisted my head to look up at her. Our faces were only inches apart, and I could see every line of worry creasing her forehead. Her lips were still a little blue, and her cheeks were missing their usual splash of color.

"You don't look so good," I commented.

"I don't feel so good, either, I guess," she replied.

"I'll go get your truck and then take you home – you probably ought to be there when Charlie gets back."

"Right," she agreed, but her hands lingered on my skin a moment longer than they needed to, like she was reluctant to let go.

It didn't take long. The roar of the truck's engine cleared my head, and the sorrow was overwhelmed by worry. It felt like the world was getting tilted upside down again, hurtling towards another cataclysmic shift that would change everything. With Harry dying, both his children joining the pack, and Bella jumping off a cliff, today had been more eventful than I could have ever imagined.

Bella was lying listlessly on the couch when I got back, staring off into space. I helped her up without speaking, keeping my arm around her shoulder when a burst of cold air from outside made her tremble like a leaf. I took the driver's seat without a word, then pulled her next to my side to keep my arm tight around her. She leaned her head against my chest, sighing.

"How will you get home?" She asked.

"I'm not going home," I replied. "We still haven't caught the bloodsucker, remember?"

She shuddered and curled up tighter against me, resting her ice-cold fingers on my chest.

Our ride was quiet, but the cab was charged with electricity that buzzed in my ears. She warmed up more now that we were both almost completely dry. Her hair was wild and twisted on her head, scratching against my neck. I ran my hand down her arm, grateful to have her there beside me to confirm she was alive.

Her near-death experience and Harry's actual death had me combing through my life with a fine-tooth comb. I couldn't imagine my world without Bella. Her life was tangentially connected to mine, intertwined like two threads of one string. If one was cut short, so was the other.

I puzzled over how my life revolved around her; I couldn't pin-point the exact moment it happened, but at some point after meeting her I'd gotten completely and utterly whipped. So much so that even as I was reeling from the loss of Harry, I was totally focused on her ragged breathing. When did she become the most important thing in my life? When did she become my entire life?

And then, in a moment of complete clarity, I realized it didn't matter. I didn't care how many times she flung herself off a cliff – I would always be there to jump in after her, because no matter what she did or who she did it with, we would always be two halves of the same whole. There was no need to know why; all that mattered was the effect. I was hooked on her like a drug, unable to be ripped apart for very long without getting pulled back like a magnet.

And I knew she felt the same way.

It was obvious to anyone paying attention that Bella needed me just as much as I needed her. She'd been a zombie when we met, but slowly she came back to life, until I had to leave her again. I would spend the rest of my life making up for that, I registered, filing that bit in the back of my head to think about later.

I stopped the truck in front of Charlie's house. It was shrouded in darkness, then suddenly lit up as a crack of lightning split the sky, followed by a deafening roar of thunder that shook the trees. Bella shivered and cowered into my shoulder as I cut the engine. Everything sat still in the sudden silence.

I'd never felt more sure of anything in my life.

Bella Swan and I were meant to be together.

I threw my other arm around her, crushing her against my chest, binding her to me. This felt better than our other hugs; more intimate, somehow. She fit into me like no one else; this hug was ours, no one else could melt so easily into my skin.

I leaned my lips down to her ear. "Sorry," I said apologetically, though I didn't mean it. "I know you don't feel exactly the way I do, Bella. I swear I don't mind. I'm just so glad you're okay that I could sing – and that's something no one wants to hear." I laughed, my throat thick with tears.

Her breathing kicked into overdrive. I heard it sanding the walls of her throat.

Her hesitation surprised me. I was used to her pulling away, changing the subject, etcetera, etcetera. This was different. She was holding me back now, not hesitantly, not shy, not in a friendly way. In a close way. Like she wanted me, too.

I pressed my cheek against the top of her head, inhaling the smell of saltwater and rain, and something else, something floral. Her cheek was pressed up against my shoulder now, fitting into the crook of my neck like two matching puzzle pieces snapping together. She hesitated again, then did something I wouldn't have expected in a million years.

She pressed her lips tentatively to my collarbone, then worked her way up my throat. I shivered, grabbing her waist with one hand and tilting up her chin to look at me with the other.

Her dark eyes swam with tears, but they were hard with resolve. She gazed back at me steadily, then closed her eyes and leaned in to press her lips against mine.