Charlie Swan is at his house when the shapeshifter finds him.
Time has carved new lines into the ageing face, and there's a decade of wear in his greying hairs, but the retired Police Chief still has steady hands. He gasps quietly at the shock, eyes wide - and hauls Jacob Black into his protective arms. They are arms that have lost far more than any father ought.
Jacob grins, simply glad that the only paternal figure he has left is no longer terrified of him. His heart warms when his nose detects another familiar scent; the smell of the rosewater and disinfectant that always conjured thoughts of hospitals and gentle hugs. Good, Jacob thinks. At least Charlie and Sue found some kind of refuge after the worst of it.
"Jake," Charlie sighs. The deepness of the rumble could have been a diary, for all the secrets it held. "You're back."
Jacob nods, a lump forms in his throat. "Finally. You… you look well."
Charlie's eyes take a trip around the world, "Sue's got me on a low-sugar, no cholesterol diet."
It seems some things never change.
Jacob is about to say so when he realizes the older man is no longer focused on him. The cautious brown eyes, so similar to the girl he once loved, are now trained on the black car parked behind the young wolf. A terribly ostentatious Maserati, one of Rosalie's flashy gifts.
It has Cullen written all over it.
And in the passenger seat, fidgeting nervously, is the reason they all risked everything.
Charlie brushes past Jacob and walks dazedly towards the car, barely aware as the shapeshifter follows, "Nessie?"
"Yeah. She's… nervous."
That stops Charlie in his tracks, and he stares bewildered at Jacob, "What's she got to be nervous for?"
It takes a split second for Charlie to realize, and his already fragile heart breaks all over again. He turns to the young woman, watches with a confused frown as she hesitantly steps out of the car. She's Bella and Edward and Reneé and something else. Something almost too flawless. "Get over here, kid."
It takes a split second to unleash herself. Renesmeé wraps long arms around her grandfather, and her face beams in joy and unrestrained excitements. Another human would have jumped in astonishment at the strength of her, at the inhuman speed. But Charlie's had more scares than the typical human. When Jacob makes to pry the young woman out of his arms, Charlie stopes him with a pointed glare and presses a kiss to his granddaughter's neck. Laughing he says, "I almost forgot you used to do that when Edwin wasn't watching."
"Edward, be nice." Renesmeé corrects with a finger pointed at her grandfather, and for a moment, she looks just like Bella.
There's a wealth of emotion in Charlie's eyes when he looks at Jacob, and the wolf can only guess what he's thinking. Maybe that life is unkind, and Bella is dead and yet some things never change.
Charlie may have been in the dark before, but now there is no doubt to Renesmee's true parentage. She smells like wildflowers, and she carries herself exactly like Bella. And those eyes… those she inherited from her mother. Jacob watches as Charlie absorbs the rest; the flawlessly pale skin and bronze hair, the soft almost genteel manners – those once belonged to Edward Cullen.
"I know you probably have a lot of questions…" Jacob begins slowly, "I think it's time to answer them."
With a quiet nod, Charlie relinquishes his hold, and gestures toward the house.
Jacob searched his pocket for Bella's note. By now, Sue's probably explained her version of events to the Police Chief. But Bella wanted to tell Charlie herself, explain so many of the things Charlie couldn't know for his own protection. He promises Bella, wherever her sweet soul may be, that he'll help her father as best as he can.
Nessie presses a warm hand to her grandfather's cheek and his dark eyes fill with tears. She'll never tell Jacob what memory she shows him, and for years after the wolf will wonder what she shared.
"I've missed you, kid." Charlie grins.
And it is only much later, with a cup of hot coffee curled around his hand and Charlie's laughter filling the room, that Jacob understands. That for Charlie, it's not just Renesmee come home, but Bella and Edward and the disappeared Cullens and every hope and dream he ever had for his only daughter. Everything lost to the horror of the last eight years or so.
"I'm so glad to see you, Charlie." Ness says, and the warmth in her voice makes Jacob glad they came to the Swan residence first.
Sam's at La Push beach when a wolf howls in the woods.
It shouldn't be instinct, how his muscles tense and his wolf rouses. But even after eight years, ignoring his shapeshifter blood is not any easier than it was before.
He inhales deeply, allowing the scent of seawater to calm and sooth him. There's a moodiness in the pull of clouds above, and he knows intuitively that a storm is coming. When he finally hears it, the ghost of a tender laugh in the wind, he knows it is time to leave.
Children are playing in the dark grey sand of La Push beach. Around him, boys run, and girls laugh and dig for clams and smooth grey rocks to paint handsome faces on. Sam remembers two such girls from his simpler days; one staring at him in awe and the other grudgingly ignoring him. She hadn't looked his way until the year she'd turned fifteen, and even then, he'd groveled for weeks before she'd blushingly pecked his cheek.
When he makes his way to his truck, he knows that the awed eyes will be waiting for him at the end of the long, winding road. In Neah Bay, something hearty is always stewing on a stove. Warms arms always wait, filled with love and comfort and sweet nothings that ease his suffering. Emily's predictably Makah that way, kind and generous. And the friendly son she's given him will eagerly jump into his arms and remind him of the lost boy he was named for. It's more than enough.
The American Dream.
So why isn't he happy?
Sam is luckier than most. He had everything he needed to rebuild a life, to make a home. Embry never recovered from the wreck and ruin of the war, and Sue lost her entire family in the space of eight months. When he thinks of it that way, he almost has no right to agony. The guilt and the never-ending nightmares seem a small price to pay for surviving.
But he can't get away from the memories…
Always, always, he remembers the stubborn woman yelling at him in his mother's Buick. He'd dragged her into the rain and silenced her protestations at his early proposal with a gentle kiss. She hadn't ever made it easy for him. Not since the day he'd first noticed her kicking clams instead of painting them. And not after, when he'd failed all attempts against his Imprint. How he had promised her; years more of fighting in the rain, years more of ravishing her in the back of a car and refusing her fears with loving kisses. He had dragged reckless fingers in her long raven hair, promising all the while that nothing would separate them.
And then he'd caught a fever.
So, Sam doesn't mind this haunting he can't escape. He doesn't quite know how to live without the smell of rain, nor does he wish to avoid the lingering laughter that echoes round the beach on cloudy days. Forever, her fierce spirit will stay in these winds, and that is why he and Emily will never leave.
It's nostalgic. Selfish, even. But Sam is glad that death cannot separate Leah from him as life did.
Angela is waiting in Neah Bay when Jacob Black struts in.
Quil Ateara Junior drops his plate, Emily squeals, and suddenly the overcrowded kitchen is whirling into motion. Paul laughs, Brady's crying and little Seth is tugging on his mother's apron, asking who the 'creepy big man' is. In all the chaos, Angela grabs her muffin and sneaks to a quiet corner to observe the family affair without being noticed.
She is not quite sure why they stop yelling, or what makes the rowdy group notice the other person peeking tentatively from behind the sliding-door, but when she spies the young woman for herself, Angela immediately remembers her childhood best friend.
"Loch Ness?" Quil grins with the eagerness of an impish child.
"Renesmeé," the woman sniffs stiffly, and then its Paul's guffaws and Brady's snickers as they tease her ten times louder than they were before. With hands shaking in mirth Emily extricated herself from the former Alpha and wraps herself around the half-vampire with no hesitation. Angela swallows audibly, but the girl does not seem to be sniffing Emily's nearest artery.
"You look just like your mother!"
"Charlie says the same thing."
Paul adds, "You sound like her too," and Renesmeé blushes.
If the young woman is overwhelmed by the boisterous liveliness of the Uley residence, she handles it graciously. She latches onto Quil's every word, and wittingly returns every one of Paul's cheeky barbs. She's so eager, Angels perceives. So desperate to hear anything about her parents, and to understand the life they lived.
Jacob's finds his way back to his Imprint, wrapping a protective arm around her shoulders, "What's for lunch, I'm famished."
Nessie sighs, "You're always famished."
"It's a wolf thing." Brady offers, and eventually everyone settles in. Paul hops onto the kitchen counter as Brady returns to his lounging chair. Even Seth Junior wanders over to Angela's side, small hands reaching up to grab at what's left of her muffin. Only Quil remains steadfastly at Jacob's side, seemingly unwilling to leave the side of his prodigal best friend returned.
Slowly, a quiet hush falls heavily across the room, and Angela sees the look in Jacob's eyes as he takes in the wounds that never healed.
Brady's scarred face and missing ear, Quil's severed arm and even Paul's prosthetic leg. There's a struggle in his face as he refuses to acknowledge the worst of the ache: She knows Jacob sees the four empty chairs.
Jared. Leah. Colin and Seth.
Them, and the six other wolves who's names he never even had a chance to learn.
Emily sets two extra plates on the table, "Where have you been? No, when did you two arrive?"
"A few days ago," Jacob's answers distractedly, "We would have been back sooner but… Charlie and Sue had a lot of questions about the Cullens."
Paul rumbles a cold laugh, "I bet. Talk about a disappearing act."
"Not that anyone could blame them," Emily adds pointedly.
"We see them a couple times each year, Esme, Rose and Emmett. Rosalie and Emmett tracked us to Brazil about two years ago, I think the Amazonian's caught my scent and sent them a message, or something. Esme wasn't very forthcoming about it."
"Probably cause she tortured it out of a stray bloodsucker," Paul mumbles. Trying in vain to block out the memory of Mama Cullen's malicious face when the Red Cloaks had burned the doctor. That soft, serene face, suddenly malicious and bloodhungry was not something he'd soon forget.
"Nah, nah, nah…" Brady drawls as he soaks further into the couch, "Obviously, they asked the psychic."
"Who could see the wolves the whole time, apparently." Paul sneers.
"It wasn't Aunt Alice. She... she's gone." Renesmeé says, her voice breaks at that last word.
The wolves grow quiet again. As understanding dawns, Angela notes the way they drop their heads, a quiet sign of respect for another fallen comrade. Losing someone else familiar, even a bloodsucker, is a loss to them.
Emily crosses the distance to the girl, a hard-won maturity filling her eyes, "I'm quite sorry to hear that. I know you loved her very much."
The half-Immortal simply shakes her head and says, "It was to be expected," before she immediately disappears. The quiet click of the closed door serves the only proof that she was even there.
When their eyes drift to Jacob for answers, his one hand rubs the back of his neck, "Alice… ended it, six years ago."
Paul frowns, "What do you mean?"
"She… asked another vampire, an old friend of Jasper's I think, to destroy her." Emily's hand flies to her mouth, and Angela is surprised by the quiet gasp that escapes her own mouth. "I think losing her mate, and Edward and Bella and adoptive father was too much for her. Rose says she… drifted away for years, barely saying anything, before she disappeared. Ness didn't take it so well when they told her. There wasn't anything left of Alice, not even ash."
Emily covers her face with her hands, "Oh that poor thing. You should go after her, Jacob."
The wolf simply shakes his head, "Ness… needs her own space to process things like that. Like Rose. She'll let me know when she's ready for company."
"Weird," Paul says.
"Maybe," Jacob shrugs, "But she's my kind of weird."
"Ew."
Brady coughs conspicuously into his hand, "I can see what's happening."
"And they don't have a clue," Quil adds off pitch.
"They'll fall in love and here's the bottom line," Angela adds mischievously, much to Jacob's surprise, and Paul takes up the rest of the tune. By the time the wolves are halfway through the chorus Jacob's arm is around Paul's neck and his foot is kicking at Quil. Angela easily imagines the 'old days' Sam's always talking about. The warm brotherhood and easy playfulness between them.
Eventually, the former alpha stalks towards the young woman peering at him from behind oversized glasses. He grins mischievously, "Alright, who dragged another girl into this mess?"
Brady lifts his palms, "Don't look at me, I'm imprint free."
Jacob directs a glare at Paul, who grins wickedly in return. "You know better than anyone what Rach would do to my balls if I so much as looked at another woman."
Angela chuckles, "Hi, Jake. I'm not sure if you remember me. We met on the beach a couple years ago. When your hair was still long. I'm—I was Bella's best friend."
"Nope," Jacob shakes his head, "That was me."
"Her broken hand disagreed," Paul snickers. And Angela smiles as she fondly remembers Bella and her numerous mysterious injuries.
A captivating pull towards an oversized stranger in her local food market had been her introduction to the supernatural only a few months before. And though it came with its own can of worms, she'd gratefully acknowledged how it helped her make peace with the sudden, mysterious loss of her childhood friend.
"Let me try again," She grinned at Jacob, "I'm Angela. Embry's Imprint."
Jacob takes her in with an impressed smirk, hid dark eyes resting on her left hand, and the massive diamond glittering there. Angela shakes her head so there's no understanding. "Oh no, it's not like that with us."
"Yet." Paul says under his breath, looking away.
Angela glowers at the back of his head, "I'm engaged," she says through gritted teeth, "To a muggle. His name is Ben."
"And yet…" Quil adds.
"They occasionally, passionately kiss." Brady adds.
"That was a onetime mistake." Angela adds defensively. Paul coughs violently, "Alright, two times. And Ben and I were separated at the time."
"Again," Paul adds.
Jacob sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. Of course, Embry's Imprint is committed to someone else. Embry never fell in love with a woman unless she was off-limits, complicated, and emotionally unavailable.
Renesmeé is crying in the rain when a stranger offers her a handkerchief.
He doesn't go away, and doesn't say a word, and she almost asks why he isn't prying or offering any useless words of advice when she realizes she prefers the silent company. He just stands there in the rain with her, occasionally wiping waterdrops out of his eyes, as red spots scrape patches across her skin.
It's exactly what she needs.
He smells very wolfy. More wolfy than the others somehow, but there is a familiarity in the scent that makes her recall another house. A fabulous glass thing stowed away in luscious green trees and filled with a mass of red-eyed vampires. She'd been so very young then and growing so quickly the memories blurred. Carlisle and Esme's friends had been everywhere: scattered across branches, strewn across the roof – looking always like marble statues.
But not the wolves.
The shapeshifters had been alive, loud and messier. Prone to sudden displays of anger, though they were often cooled swiftly by playful affection. They'd always felt more… whole, somehow. And there had been two others… two shapeshifters often hiding in the shadows and a little separate from the others. She remembered how they played caringly in the green, perhaps together finding sanctuary. How the woman had always glared at her through pretty lashes, her arms perpetually crossed like a soldier.
"You're Leah's Embry." She says.
"And you're Jacob's Imprint."
He is much taller than the other wolves, and much bigger than she remembered. Though his face has not aged a day, there is a hardness there now. The friendly boy she and Jacob left behind is nowhere to be found. Sue had mentioned he was different, and not because he was alpha, and Jacob had worried though he hadn't told her why. Now she sees for herself.
Embry shakes his head, "Shouldn't Jacob be here to hold your delicate hand or something?"
She bristled at that. Jacob has never neglected her. Not once. "Jacob always knows exactly what I need. I try not to micromanage his actions."
"Or infringe on his choices?" He raises a wry brow, "Never quite possible Ness, with an Imprint."
Her name is oddly angry and intimate on his tongue, and she glances down at the handkerchief in her hands. How terribly old-fashioned. "Maybe. But I guess that's the thing with Alphas. They always know what you need, always act accordingly." She risks a glance into his eyes and is struck by the utter loss and darkness she sees lurking there. The loneliness. So much like Jacob's.
"That's what it means to be alpha," he says quietly. "It means to take care of the needs of the pack, and to protect the young from threat."
The way Jacob didn't protect his.
The words remain unspoken, but Renesmeé hears them regardless. And yet the young man does not seem bitter, merely lost to grief.
She wanted to reach out and offer comfort, though she doesn't know what she would say. Leah and Seth, as with Jacob, she knows intuitively that Embry is haunted most by those two deaths. And furthermore, he is justified in feeling betrayed by his best friend.
"Thank you for keeping me company. You are a good alpha."
He rolls his eyes, but his voice is a serious order as he heads back to the house. "No more tears."
Suddenly, Renesmee is struck by the notion that Jacob and Embry's reunion will do them both a world of good.
Th rain slows to a soft drizzle, and gradually, a red car eases into the driveway. With wide, disbelieving eyes, Sam steps from behind the driver's seat, shock and disbelief at war in the features. Renesmeé offers him a tentative wave as a grinning Jacob steps out of the front door, followed closely by the rest of the pack.
His eyes dart between her and Jacob and back again, and he blinks furiously, as though certain they might disappear.
"And the old timer finally arrives," Jacob teases, "I was wondering where you are."
Sam walks to the house much like a man waking from a particularly strange dream, his limbs drifting, "Jake?"
"Oh come on, I'm not that diff-"
Jacob's words are a muffle as he's squashed quickly into the older man's embrace. It is a gesture so vulnerable, so surprisingly warm, that for a moment the younger man doesn't quite seem know how to respond. By the time Sam finally lets go, Emily is dabbing tears from her eyes, and Renesmeé realizes that Jacob seems years younger.
"It's good to see you, Jake." Sam says.
Jacob's hand finds the back of his neck in a familiar gesture, she knows he's slightly nervous to be talking to Sam after everything that's happened between them. "To be honest, Sam. After all the stress I gave you, I wasn't expecting such a warm welcome."
Sam makes a small clicking sound. 'Don't be an idiot. You're family, Jacob. Welcome home."
Little Seth jumps into his arms, and Jake's eyes find hers. They share a small smile. Has he ever looked so at peace before? She doesn't think so.
When she makes her way to him, he wraps loving arms around her, nests his chin on her shoulder, "Baby, what would you say if I suggested moving back to Forks for a little while?"
Ness can feel the way anticipation builds in the other wolves, even as they all pretend, they're not listening. "What do you mean… a little while?"
"I don't know…" Jake grins, "Maybe a year or a decade…Maybe a little more?"
A little more love and chaotic noise, a little less material comfort. A little more fulfillment. This was why then; why Bella and Edward rallied unlikely allies and sacrificed their lives. So that she could have a chance at this. At family and safety despite their volatile world.
Nessie smiles, "I think we're going to have a long honeymoon here. At least a couple of decades."
The wolves erupt into merry sounds of happiness and congratulations. Jacob scoops her into his arms for a passionate kiss, and unwillingly relents to shake hands with his new alpha and old friend. And if she was crying again, Embry couldn't grudge a few waterworks of pure joy. After all, there was much lost to the memory of loss, grief had been their constant companion for too many years. Now it was time for happiness.