Warning: This story will contain graphic depictions of violence, mature language, abuse and lemons in later chapters.

Chapter Nine

-Oatmeal-

I didn't dare move against the embrace of my rescuer, instead my eyes were fixed on the large starving grizzly bear below me, now agitated and fearfully swatting at the flares thrown at its feet. The red sparks shot up from the snow covered ground, singing and melting all that lay beneath.

A warm roughened hand covered my mouth, and the other secured my waist against a hard chest. I didn't dare breathe or even struggle against his hold, my frozen lips against his palm the only thing keeping me rooted to reality.

The freezing temperature and the drain of physical energy was leaving my body along with the adrenaline, and I felt the spotty pores of unconsciousness threatening my vision. I hadn't realized until this moment how truly cold and weak I felt.

The smoke began to curl around us in heavy waves, and the bear seemed more and more irritated, sputtering and growling against the fog.

When the beast took several more steps away from us, I heard the click of a tongue by my ear, and our mount began to run in the opposite direction from the bear, into the opposite side of the woods.

The hand covering my lips pulled away to hold the reins, and I felt all the fatigue and weakness sliver up my back, and my body began to sag.

"I...stop...my...the lake house is..." I tried to form a coherent sentence and my vision darkened further.

"Stay awake damn it." I felt that strong arm around my middle shake me slightly, before the world began spinning.

"Who...are..." My body finally gave out and I collapsed against that warm chest, and fell into a deep slumber, only the pounding of hooves against snow and a deep voice filled concern, lulling me into blackness.

The next few days went by in a blur. I woke up for only moments at a time before succumbing back into fever dreams.

My dreams were confusing and darkly thorned and twisted. I tried to hold on to the good ones a little longer, and rid myself of the darker ones.

I dreamt of a small little house with white shutters and green doors, standing against a drizzle of rain.

I dreamed of the clinking of wine glasses at a dinner party, as I sat chatting with the other guests.. I was holding a flute of champagne and my head felt deliciously numb and woozy. I was laughing at nothing in particular when a hand touched my thigh, just a little too tight, nails scratching my skin. I looked down at the hand in confusion, then as the nails dug deeper into my leg a shiver of dread crept its way through me as I felt the monster's hot breath in my hair, mimicking a nuzzle.

"Stop flirting. You've embarrassed me enough tonight."

I felt the bubbles in my stomach churn at his voice and I attempted to stand, but he caught the edge of my taupe satin dress and with one fluid tug, ripped my dress on the seam and pulled me back to his side. I felt tears well in my eyes and struggled to obtain some level of modesty.

"Ah baby, see what you've done? Please, take my coat. I'm sorry everyone but I think my lovely wife is needing some rest, we will join you tomorrow." His voice held the undercurrent of amusement, as he no doubt eluded to my intoxicated state. The room responded in kind, and I heard a few chuckles at my torn dress as I rose, quickly covered by a jacket around my shoulders. I avoided looking at his face as we walked, and held my breath, trying to avoid smelling his perfumed scent on his clothes.

The dream warped and spun, the chattering of guests melting into shimmering silhouettes.

"Hey...shh...I got you." A voice found its way to me through the darkness.

"Don't cry. You're safe. I promise."

My eyes felt heavy and swollen as I searched for the source of the voice.

Were those memories fluttering through the fog? Was I…married to that monster that had violated me so deeply?

I felt a warm hand once again touch my cheek, ever so gently as my rescuer gazed down at me. My eyes attempted to focus, trying to see his features clearly, batting back the threat of tears.

His eyes were the deep green of the forest outside, and his hair the color of darkened auburn. His lips were softened in the small pout that held his lower lip, and a beard curved along his strong jaw, making him seem a little untamed and wild. He was a big man, towering over me, with broad shoulders.

"You...who are..." I croaked. I was laying in a small cot by a fire, and I was sweating from the heat.

His fingers dropped slowly from my cheek, but raised again to press against my forehead.

"My name is Masen. You've been out for a few days with a fever."

I struggled to keep my eyes open. "Masen..." I murmured. "You...saved me?"

His eyes softened slightly, and he rose to his full height, his head only inches from the ceiling. "You need to eat. Give me a moment."

I watched him move towards the fire, his broad shoulders hunched behind the thick flannel he wore, as he tended a kettle heating over the fire.

I opened my mouth to ask where we were, but my body swallowed me under once more and all I could do was let out a breath and be pushed under the rocky waves of emotion and fatigue again.

I didn't dream this time, only drifting in and out of consciousness enough to register the gentle touch of a cool cloth to my face, or a spoonful of warm broth being brought to my lips.

At some point in the night I awoke, my legs aching and sore, my head spinning. I looked down at myself, wiping the sleep from my eyes. I was wrapped in a knitted blanket, and was wearing only a large white cotton t-shirt that fell to my thighs, and woolen socks.

The room around me flickered in warm hues of orange and yellow, pools of light in the otherwise darkened room.

I sat up slowly, moaning when my temples ached.

A shadow moved in the darkness, and green eyes flickered above me. "You're awake."

I nodded, rubbing my head. "How long have I been out?"

"Four days. Your fever broke sometime this morning. How do you feel?"

Four days. I groaned and let my head fall back against the stone wall behind me. Seb and Ephraim would think I was injured or worse, abandoned them.

I remembered the ghosts of memories I had stumbled upon during my sleep and decided that just for right now, I didn't want to deal with the pain or fear they delivered to me. I pushed them down inside myself again as I had with the other dreams, praying for just a moment of reprieve.

Masen mistook my groan for pain and gently lifted his broad hands to my temple, massaging them gently. "You're likely dehydrated. I've only gotten you to eat two bowls of broth."

I let my eyes close and his touch soothe me.

"What's your name?" His deep voice softly asked.

"Doe."

His eyes crinkled in amusement, and he leaned back, sitting next to the bed as he had before. "I don't think I've heard that one before."

He scratched his bearded chin, looking at the fire.

I took a moment to study the small room we sat in. It appeared to be an old stone cottage, consisting of a small kitchen with copper pots and pans, a living area with a bed, and a small restroom. The fire heated it's interior nicely, and only wooden furniture upholstered with leather filled the space.

It was a very simple, masculine space. But I couldn't help but feel like it's stone walls were sheltering me in a cozy embrace, rather than trapping me. I wasn't sure my comfort was warranted, but enjoyed it nonetheless.

Masen rose from his spot on the floor and collected a large jug of water from the kitchen. "Here. Drink this while I fill you a bath. I've washed your clothes you came in, but they are in a pretty sorry way." He handed me the water, and I drank slowly, careful not to upset my stomach by drinking too fast.

"I don't have clothes that will fit you, but if you'd like I can give you a sweater or two." He wiped his calloused hands against his jeans. He must've been over six feet, and the lean muscle fitted to his body displayed not only his athleticism, but no doubt his work ethic.

I nodded, and watched as he got to work heating the water for the tub. A million questions swirled in my mind, but as I had learned with practice, I sought answers one at a time.

"Is it still hailing?" I called out to him, swinging my legs gingerly over the side of the mattress.

The sound of water pouring and metal clinking was muffled behind the door.

"No. It stopped yesterday, since then it's been raining." My lips parted in surprise. "Raining?" I scrambled out of the bed, forgetting my weakened leg and fell to the ground in a tangle of limbs. My leg was caught under my neighboring thigh and a ping of pain shot up my spine.

"Ah...god..." I rolled on my back and thumped my head back into the wooden floor, groaning and holding my leg.

The door to the bathroom opened quickly, and within seconds he was beside me. "Where does it hurt?" His emerald eyes focused on me entirely.

"I'm...fine..." I huffed, the pain already subsiding into a dull ache. "It's my damn leg. I'm sorry, sometimes I get ahead of myself." I looked over at him as he warmed his hands together and gently placed them on either side of my scarred thigh.

Modesty hadn't yet occurred to me, or to warn him of my fairly graphic scars.

His hands didn't waver, and his eyes lifted to mine. His eyes were stormy and darkened. "You were hurt." It wasn't a question, more of a statement of fact.

"Yes." I murmured, looking up at him. "I was in an accident a few months ago. A friend stitched me up."

He nodded, his gaze not leaving mine. A moment passed in silence, and I felt compelled to continue. "I've been staying at a church nearby. Do you know it?"

He shook his head, gently massaging the wounded cords of muscle under my skin. I felt my breath quicken at such an intimate touch. It hadn't felt so...different...when Ephraim had cared for me.

"I'm passing through. I don't know the area well. Got caught up here when the snow came." His hands moved down to my knee, where the bulk of the damage had occurred and I tensed, readying for the pain, but he only ran his fingers gently over the scars.

For a moment there was no sound between us, and his immense form cared for my scars to the flickering of fire. The act felt almost too personal, but I felt no urge to cover myself from his touch or gaze.

"Your bath should be heated by now. Do you need help?"

I nodded slowly, feeling heat warm my cheeks. "Yes." I whispered. "Can you help me to the tub?" He nodded solemnly, and slowly wound his arms around me, as if I was made of glass.

He lifted me off the floor smoothly, in one fluid motion, cradling me in his arms as he walked to the bathroom.

My cheek was pressed against his chest as he walked, and I could smell the scent of coffee and smoke in the soft fabric. I closed my eyes briefly, and took a deep breath.

When we reached the tub he gently placed me on a stool nearby, and left me with some soap and a fresh towel to clean myself.

The one window above the steaming tub let me peek a look into the outside world. Sure enough, the sky was dark and roaring with rainfall. I couldn't see much too clearly, but the snow seemed a little less dense than it had been days before.

I washed myself thoroughly and took the time to center myself and my new situation. If this rain didn't let up soon I may have to stay for a few days. And then who knows what Seb and Ephraim would think of me. I hoped they would trust that I found shelter and would make it through. I wasn't too worried they would go into the weather to search for me, Ephraim had Seb to consider and would never abandon him.

I touched the necklace they had given me, and knew I had to find a way back to them.

I finished soaking and rose carefully from the tub, into a sweater he must've hung from the door. It was gray and thick, and was soft against my skin.. After running my fingers through my hair I stepped slowly back out into the fire warmed room and warmed my hands by the open flames.

I could hear Masen tinkering in the kitchen, and peered over to watch him cook.

He was pouring hot water into a bowl filled with dried oats and raisins. He always seemed to surprise me, his deft and nimble movements always smooth and gentle. He was such a large man I wondered the origin of his softness. Was it learned or an innate part of him?

He hadn't yet shared too much of himself with me, but some part of myself told me I could trust him. If he was planning on hurting me he certainly had his opportunity and didn't take it.

I remembered the strong iron grip under my breasts as he had hauled me onto his mount. Firm and steady.

I paused.

"You had a horse didn't you? When you found me."

His smooth movements stuttered and the brown sugar he was spooning in carefully clattered down, spoon and all into the oatmeal he was preparing. He cursed under his breath and turned towards me, blinking away the surprise.

"What? Oh. I'm surprised you remember. That's Leah. She's safe, don't worry."

I frowned. "It's raining pretty hard, are you sure? Where is she?"

Masen walked to the front door and opened it slightly, revealing a nearby barn. The roof had been layered with some sort of padding and tarp-like material.

"I insulated it pretty well. And she's got lots of bedding. She's fine."

I nodded, and tried to catch a glimpse of her through the sheets of rain. I saw only a shadow moving against a window, but it was enough to satisfy me of her safety.

He closed the door, and after fixing the oatmeal, set me up at the small table near the fire. I ate slowly, the warm sweet grain filling my belly and warming me inside out.

"How did you find me out there?" I asked as he sat down and joined me with his own bowl.

His green eyes flickered to mine, then back down to his porridge as he ate. "I was out setting snares. I heard you yelling and saw you with the bear."

I remembered the creature's eyes staring me down as he took slow step after step towards me.

"In another life I was a park ranger in Montana. I knew you taking a shot would likely just get him mad enough to kill you outright."

"Montana? That's far isn't it? How did you end up here?"

His eyes closed briefly and a muscle in his neck flexed. "I left about six months ago," was all the information he offered.

I nodded, knowing how it felt to have a past you couldn't or didn't want to explain.

"Do you know what's going on with the storms? The snow?"

He finished his bowl and leaned back in his chair, stretching with lazy masculine power and running his hand through his hair.

"I only know that a storm up here has been going on for about as long as I've been gone. I heard it was getting worse, but didn't realize how bad it was till I got here."

"Wait, you knew the storm was here and you came anyway? I thought you got caught in it."

He regarded me from his chair, arms now crossed over his chest. "I need to get to the other side. I'm headed farther north. If it takes a while it takes a while."

I saw his expression and didn't press further.

He didn't ask me about myself, didn't pry or try to find meaning in my presence. Didn't even ask where I was headed, or who was waiting for me.

He simply accepted my presence, tried to help me as best he could, and let secrets be secrets.

I watched as he rose from the chair, and cleaned up the dishes in front of me.

"Thank you." I said softly, looking up at his rugged features. I didn't know what else to say, having owed this stranger my life, and now my safety.

He paused, and his lips curled beneath the mustache of his beard. "For the oatmeal?"

I laughed, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear. "Yeah, for the oatmeal."

A/N: Thank you for the reviews, I love seeing people reading through the story and commenting on each chapter.

I do want to make one note, please keep in mind for the upcoming chapters our Bella is essentially new to the world again, and only receiving bits and pieces of who she once was. This would be pretty overwhelming for her, even if she isn't vocalizing it. All I'm saying is be patient with her, she is finding herself slowly along with you, the reader.

This story has two main points of inspiration. The first is "The Long Dark" by Hinterland Studios. There are some elements of this story I am borrowing, but the premise is mine alone. This is a gorgeous, gripping and enchanting game. I highly recommend you play it.

The second is "Washed Up" By xrxdanixrx. I loved this story and the idea of amnesia came from reading. I encourage you all to read this wonderful story.

Stephanie Meyer is the sole owner of the Twilight Franchise, and she owns all related characters you may see here. This is merely a fanfiction of her work.