Jacob

Jacob arrived back at the house, and he couldn't keep the look of guilt and dread off his face.

"Where's Edward?" Emmett asked.

"He told me to leave him alone," Jacob said, relaying everything that happened. "Emmett, I'm sorry."

"Not your fault," Embry whispered.

"He's right," Emmett nodded. "Did you see which way he went? After he left the school?"

"Yeah, he was heading in the general direction of the north shore."

"Okay, Embry, go get your bike, Edward, you're coming with me. We'll find him." Emmett said. Embry nodded and jogged off toward their house. Emmett banked the fire, and grabbed his keys. Jacob was in the car when he got in, and he wasted no time pulling out of the driveway. They drove to the school, and a back motorcycle passed them, circled the school, and headed north toward the beach.

"I'm sorry," Jacob said, drawing his knees up to his chest.

"Don't be. If I know Edward, and I'm pretty sure I do, he wasn't mad at you. Or anyone. Except himself. He's always internalized things, always felt that there were things wrong about himself."

They drove north, taking a different street than Embry, and pulled into the parking lot. Embry was already there. He dismounted from his bike, and pulled off his helmet, letting the long curtain of his hair fall, before tying it back with the hair tie on his wrist.

"You guys take that way, I'll go this way," he signed. Jacob nodded, and he and Emmett set off down the beach. They walked in silence, looking but the beach was bare,with only gently rolling dunes that flowed smoothly into the sea. They walked about half a mile before Emmett's phone buzzed.

"Embry found him," Emmett said. They turned and jogged back the way they'd come, and then past the parking lot, down the beach where they could see Embry, dressed in black, kneeling next to Edward.

"Somebody found him wandering, they said that he told them he was lost, and without his phone, he didn't have anyone's numbers," Embry explained when they got to them. "He's okay, just tired, I think." Embry pulled Edward up to his feet and got him walking back toward the parking lot. Once they reached it, Edward got into the back seat and sat dejectedly, looking out the window. Jacob and Emmett got into the front, and the drive to back to the house was… Well, it wasn't friendly. Usually, people weren't hard for Jacob to read, but he wasn't getting anything from Edward. He saw Emmett gance at Edward from the rearview mirror more than once, as if Emmett was trying to get a read on him, too.

When they pulled into the driveway, Embry was already there, no doubt explaining to Sam and Jared what happened. Edward got out of the car before Emmett or Jacob could try to talk to him, and went inside. Emmett didn't get out right away. He put a hand on Jacob's shoulder.

"Don't worry, alright? It's not you. Just like when you were first rescued and you were angry, remember? Who were you really angry at?"

"Myself," Jacob muttered, shrugging. "I mean, I know, but I didn't want to be the person who he got mad at first."

"Lucky you, he'll get over it first," Emmett said. Jacob managed to crack a smile, before heading inside.

Edward

Purging always took something out of Edward, and even though he knew he should apologize to Jacob, he just didn't have the energy to try to figure out what to say. Jacob, too, seemed subdued. The others still wanted to have the bonfire, so Edward dragged himself to one of the logs, soaking up the heat from the fire. He was too drained to move over when Emmett sat down next to him with his guitar.

"Hey," Emmett said, "You play, right?"

"I used to," Edward said, taking the instrument. He began to strum in, quietly at first, then, as it came back to him, he tuned it to a different key, and started to play. (Insert Arms by Christina Perri). He suddenly became aware that five sets of eyes were watching him, and he handed the guitar back to Emmett.

"No, you got this. Can you sing anything else?" Edward gave him a slanted look. What was he up to? Then he started to play again. (Insert Always Remember Us this Way and Lost on You)

"Since when do you sing?" Sam asked, once the last notes died away. Edward shrugged.

"It's just a hobby," he said.

"Some hobby," Sam muttered. Emmett took the guitar back. The truth was that as much as Edward was aware that he could sing, he hated his voice. His speaking voice could come across as androgynous if he wanted it to, but the moment he started to sing, there was no question what gender he was assigned at birth. It was a constant reminder that in so many ways, he was wrong. They passed the guitar around, but Mike was the only other person besides Emmett and Edward who could play. Emmett took the chance to talk to Edward without everyone else listening in.

"So what happened?" He asked. Edward had little doubt about what he was talking about. And what was the point of keeping secrets. They were going to realize sooner or later that this was a lost cause anyway.

"I was an asshole to Jacob."

"I meant after that," Emmett said. Edward sighed.

"I found some old drugstore, and I bought a bunch of food and I ate it all, and then threw it up." Emmett couldn't hide the look that crossed his face, even though he tried. Edward looked back to the fire. Just say it, he thought. Just tell me what I need to do one more fucking time. But Emmett didn't say anything for a long time. Probably realizing exactly what everyone else realizes eventually, Edward thought. He pulled the hood of his sweatshirt up over his head and hugged his knees, so that all that was visible were his eyes. Emmett put an arm around him and gave him a hug, and it was so unexpected that he couldn't stop the flood of emotions that came with it. He buried his face in his knees and cried. Emmett rubbed his back and let him cry, and leaned down.

"I miss him too," he whispered. "Every damn day. But eventually, it's going to hurt less." Edward shook his head. "You'll see. Eventually, you'll be able to look back at your memories and the time you had with him, and it might hurt, but the pain won't be unbearable. And until then, you take it day by day."

"And what if I don't want to do this anymore?" Edward asked, resting his cheek on his knees, looking up at Emmett with red-rimmed eyes. He felt more drained and worn out than he could ever remember feeling.

"Then you hold on because you have other people who care about you. And if you died, every one of us would feel exactly the same way you do right now." Edward strongy doubted that, but he was too tired to argue. He found himself nodding off, still tucked into his sweatshirt. "Come on," he felt Emmett shaking his shoulder, trying to wake him up. But he was so tired. "Edward, you can't sleep out here."

"Can't sleep in there, either," he mumbled.

"Then sleep in my bed. You still can't sleep outside in the sand." Why did it matter? Why did any of this matter? He heard the exasperated sigh, and Emmett pull him to his feet. Reluctantly, he let Emmett lead the way, and collapsed on the bed - not Brady's bed, but Emmett's. He barely noticed when Emmett slid into the other side of the bed, but he felt the warmth of him, and in his sleep, he pressed his freezing body closer to the heat source. Somewhere in his subconscious, a memory surfaced. Brady's voice, saying that Emmett was always so warm.