She hurled through the air, landing squarely between his shoulders with a deafening crunch. A searing pain spread through his shoulder down to his arm, and he let out a wailing howl that echoed through the clearing. She latched onto him, clinging as if he were a bucking bronco. Her arms wrapped around his neck, waiting to snap his spine like a twig, but the pain would not relent, and his remaining legs gave out under him. He snapped at her, unable to sink his teeth into Victoria from where she perched. Slowly, his mind gave in to the pain of his wounds, and his world became blurry. He lunged pitifully at any shape in his view in a last-ditch attempt to free himself. Consciousness came and went like the breeze. His few waking thoughts returned to Bella; where was she? Was she alright? Who would protect her now?

Jake! Get up!

Don't be a hero, Embry! Get out of there! Let me-

-Jacob she's-

The leech's weight suddenly lifted off of him, accompanied by a shrill, unholy screech that pierced his eardrums. There was a crack, then a booming thud of something massive landing that shook the ground beneath him. Howling, a yelp, the snarling of his brothers, and the sound of rocks tumbling down like a tiny avalanche. He could feel heat on his fur, warming his back as he laid motionless on the ground. His nose filled with smoke, wafting over a stench like the most disgusting incense. He couldn't phase back yet. He shouldn't. He was too vulnerable. He couldn't leave that bitch to his brothers. But his body disagreed, and he soon found himself back in his own skin.

He slowly came-to, trying to raise himself up onto his knees, only tumble down again under his weight. The entirety of his limb was useless, throbbing, and stabbed him with every move. Sam's groans of pain gave him a start, and he opened his eyes to see him soaked in blood, a large gash running diagonally across his chest. Paul and Jared were helping him up and heading towards the house, their hands and torsos covered in Sam's blood. A large redwood had broken in the middle, and the top was dangling dejectedly at the seam.

"Jacob," called a cold, familiar voice. "It's time for you to go back. I will supervise the cleanup. Quil, Embry, if you would be so kind…"

Edward was staring pensively into a stinking fire fueled by a mass of arms and legs. He was calm, his face as stony as the rest of him, and his eyes remained completely fixed on the flames.

"It's bad manners to keep ladies waiting."

The pain was slowly becoming more manageable, but a strange numbness was radiating downward to his fingers. The light was gone, and so was the smell. How had his feet been moving underneath him all this time? How was he even still alive? He couldn't remember. He was leaning most of his weight onto Quil, who had been chattering away excitedly in his ear about the highlights of the last hour, as if Sam didn't look like an extra from a slasher flick.

"...and then she jumped, what, thirty feet up? And I almost intercepted her but she just slammed down right on you."

"You didn't 'almost', dude. You barely got near her." Quil ignored his commentary.

"Did you hear Paul freaking out? I've never heard him freak out like that. I bet they could hear him all the way back in town. She must have fucked up your shoulder real bad to make you black out like that, Jake."

"No shit, Sherlock," he growled, hoping he would take a hint. He might be the first person in history to be irritated to death.

"And then Cullen pulled her off and slammed her into the tree, holy shit, that was the best thing I've seen all year. Split it in the middle like fucking Paul Bunyan. Like I know he's a leech and your girlfriend's ex and all that, but that was kickass."

It might have been the adrenaline, or the pain, or just the rush of emotions that had slammed into him like a freight train, but Jacob swore that he couldn't have heard him correctly.

"What did you say?"

"Which part?"

"The part about Cullen."

"He just grabbed her by the arm and smashed her into the tree and it-"

"No, dumbass. The other part."

"Oh yeah, she was on top of you and I thought she was about to break your neck, but Cullen got to her first. He almost tore off her arm after throwing her off of you. I thought I was gonna go deaf from the screaming."

More than the battle itself, Cullen had sent Jacob into a state of shock. He was a mess of contradictions: He showed up in Forks, but he didn't want to see her. He loved Bella, but he encouraged their relationship. He hated Jacob, but he saved his life. Was it even possible for a vampire to change? After centuries of watching the world go by, could anything really penetrate a monster made of stone? Bella was special. There was no one on the planet like her. Jake knew it even when they were kids, but he wasn't sure Cullen recognized that. There was nothing that could have made Jacob leave her behind when she needed him. He would stay by her side and love her in any way he could, be whatever she needed. But Edward was a cold and distant creature, and maybe this was the most natural way that he could love her.

Much like tactfulness or table manners, the significance of his question had clearly not penetrated Quil's skull. He gushed about the fight as if it were a football game or an action movie, with little to no understanding of how miraculous it was that they all escaped largely unscathed. This was his first real fight and, god willing, his last. They could probably be expecting to hear him recount it over and over again in the weeks to come, months if he was trying to win over a girl. For this first time, Jacob found having two older sisters preferable to one little brother.

He'd caught a quick glimpse of Sam before, who was now far ahead of them, leaving behind a trail of blood. The sheer amount of blood on him and on everyone else was a shocking reminder of what this job really meant, and how incompatible it was with a normal life. Love. School. Children. A real job. If Sam and Emily were going to start a life together, he needed to leave this madness, but as long as vampires roamed the earth, there could be no definitive end to it.

He was already regaining his strength and the feeling in his arm, but he knew it would still take some time before he was going to get full use out of it. Sure, they could heal faster than anything on the planet, but it wasn't foolproof. The muscles and tendons would repair themselves with little fuss. Bones, however, needed more time, and he did not look forward to the inevitable crack of his scapula resetting itself. Sam's laceration did not look too deep or like it had hit anything vital, but he had lost a lot of blood. Losing too much too quickly would still spell the end for any of them. This was somehow still all fun and games for his little brothers, but they were still kids. Sam had Emily waiting for him at home, and he had Bella.

As if on cue, he heard her shouting frantically up ahead.

"Jake! Jake where are you?"

They reached Emily's backyard to find Bella ankle-deep in snow and barely covered up enough for the weather. Emily was trying and failing to stay calm as Paul and Jared dragged Sam into the living room. The moment Bella saw him, she started running and plowed into him like a linebacker. Now it was Jacob's turn to scream.

"Holy shit, Bells, take it easy! I'm a broken man!" he croaked as she squeezed around his ribcage. Where did she learn to run like that? And how did she not hurt herself in the process? Bella instantly released him, her eyes brimming with frightened tears.

"Oh my god, Jake, I'm so sorry. What happened? Did she-"

"-Can we do this inside, honey? It's a lot better than standing up to my ass in snow."

"Right. Sorry."

He could walk on his own now, though not at his usual speed or swagger. She watched him like a hawk as he trudged into Emily's living room, where Sam was sprawled out on the couch, his chest covered in blood-soaked towels. Emily's eyes were red from crying, and she was frantically pressing down on his wounds as Jared tried to convince to her that Sam was going to be alright. He was woozy and a little out of it, but he was still smiling up at her, trying to comfort her. She held his hand tightly, sniffing and hiccuping as he spoke.

"Em, it'll be closed up by morning. I know it looks like I've lost some blood but I'll make more. Please don't cry…"

Jacob landed onto the nearby plush chair with a thud, which felt like a punch directly to the shoulder.

"Motherfucker!"

He winced and clutched his arm, trying not to move the affected area as much as possible. He leaned his head back into the chair, taking deep breaths as he waited for the pain to lessen. It's too bad Cullen didn't bring Dr. Fang along to shoot him and Sam up with some morphine. Bella immediately rushed to his side, her hair now wild and wet from the storm, and her eyes much the same.

"OK, we're inside now. Tell me what happened." She scanned his body for more wounds or clues. He didn't need to tell her about Cullen just yet. Between his throbbing arm and their mutual exhaustion, the situation called for some rest before he dropped a bomb like that.

"His shoulder is pretty screwed up," Embry answered, trying to temper his awe around Emily and Bella.

"Probably his arm, too. We think the redhead broke it when she landed on him. He looks better now than he did when we picked him up, but he'll still need to rest for a while before he can use it again. Try not to jump him just yet, Bella," he smirked. She turned red again.

It was only under the bright lights in the living room that Jacob finally saw the damage to the rest of the pack. Everyone seemed to have minor cuts and bruises, including Paul, who had a dark purple hand print on his lower back. Everyone was home in (mostly) one piece, but the tension had still not settled. They needed to get Sam patched up enough for everyone to get some sleep.

Bella carefully hovered over him so as not to bump him, giving him the deepest kiss they'd ever had. He could feel the residual wetness on her cheeks and the redness from Quil's comment. She was so beautiful, even when her face had been ravaged by fear and sadness. It reminded him of the way she looked back then, before those afternoons in the garage, before she came back out of her shell. It was something he thought he would never see again.

"It's over, Bells. It's finally over," he whispered. He reached out to touch her face with his good hand, bringing her forehead to his, stoking her cheek with his thumb.

"You should have been there, though! It was crazy!" Quil piped in. God forbid they have a moment's peace. How did he still have the energy for this?

"Right after she slashed Sam open, Jared and Paul went absolutely ape-shit. They just grabbed both ends and tore her in half like something out of Mortal Kombat." He mimed all the action in his recap with wild gestures and facial expressions to match. He'd almost had his spine snapped in half, but sure Quil, this was a great time for a play-by-play.

"I mean, she was already kind of weakened from getting slammed into a tree right after she got pulled off of Jake by C-"

HIs voice suddenly cut off, silenced by both Sam's order and the glares from the rest of the pack. Of course. He couldn't have waited until Jacob wasn't in pain anymore, or until he regained enough use of his arm to beat the hell out of him. That would have been way too easy.

Bella blinked. All conversation in the living room came to a screeching halt. Everyone was now looking away or busying themselves with something to avoid eye contact. She inhaled sharply as she began to piece it together. She looked into his eyes, her own reflecting a mixture of alarm, anger, and distrust. The jig was up.

"Jake?"

He sighed and closed his eyes, leaning back into the chair. He hissed as the padding made contact with his arm.

"Cullen was there."

She backed away. Her eyes were as wide as saucers and she looked like she had stopped breathing.

"What," she whispered, barely making a sound.

"He was here. He came to help the pack. He's the one who threw Victoria off of me."

He waited. He fully expected to get an earful from her or a slap to the face for keeping things from her again. Maybe she'd stomp up the stairs and slam the door, refusing to speak to him for days. Or maybe his name would bring everything back and make her cry again. The very thought made his heart ache.

Instead, she dropped his hand and turned to go out the door and back out into the snow. Now he'd really done it. He rose from the chair and tucked his arm into his chest before he began stumbling after her.

"Jake you moron sit down before you break something else."

Jake emerged out of the house, wincing as he tried to compensate for the pain caused by every movement. The lamps on the porch were the only source of light in the yard as snow clouds covered every inch of the sky. She was at the edge of the woods, shouting over and over again into the darkness.

"Edward! Edward, I know you're there!"

"Bells, I'm sorry, please…"

She shot him a look that pierced his heart. He was more afraid of her than he was of Victoria not an hour ago. She was the only one who had the power to destroy him from the inside out.

"Goddamnit, Edward!"

Cat's out of the bag, Cullen. Just come out and help me. Please.

The lights suddenly reflected a pair of yellow eyes staring back at her from the shadows. She squeaked. She still hadn't processed that that Victoria was dead, and there was going to be some old habits to undo once this particular ordeal was over with, and not just for her. With his usual grace and eloquence, he emerged.

"I apologise, Bella. I never meant for this to happen."

She frowned.

"What part, exactly? Leaving Forks? Coming back to Forks?"

"Both, but primarily you learning of my presence here. I asked the pack not to mention that I was ever here, but I see that they did not have much of a choice in the matter."

Her head whipped around to Jacob, who was trying desperately to hold it together. She wasn't going to go back to him, was she? Did the leech's heroics rekindle old feelings that she'd been holding onto this whole time? Was this all part of Cullen's game, knowing that he'd never be able to lie to Bella?

"I can assure you that isn't the case, Jacob. I think you know her better than that."

He approached Bella, who was still on the defensive. She seemed to relax, but she plunging temperature was making her shiver.

"Their promise to me what part of our deal. I would never show my face in Forks again if I was allowed to assist in the fight and if they promised not to tell you I was here. I feared it would only upset you. I'm happy to hear that he has chosen to keep his promise to you."

"Is it true then, what he told me? You saved Jake?" she asked, her previous demanding tone turning softer.

"I'm afraid so, though I'm not sure it's worthy of Quil's...colorful retelling," he replied with a chuckle.

He could not see her face, but he feared what expression it wore. He wanted nothing more than to put his arms around her, to shield her from everything. She'd suffered enough. He wanted to keep this secret longer for her sake, though maybe a little for his, too. But he couldn't take that choice away from her. Even without his promise to Edward, he knew she would want to know. Perhaps this would be the moment of truth. If only she would say something.

He wanted to trust her. He wanted to completely give himself over to her, no fear, no hesitation. He had always felt that way, even before the imprint, but there was a deep, primal urge to stand between her and anything that might harm her that he still didn't fully understand.

"Edward…" her voice cracked. He could hear something in her voice, something that resembled pain, or sorrow, or...elation?

"Thank you."

He smile, taking her hand and bending down to kiss it, like some kind of prince.

"Anything for you."

He rose, turning towards the trees, contented but melancholy.

"Goodbye, Bella. Please don't be too angry with Jacob. I have seen his intentions, and they were entirely honorable. He wanted to tell you from the start. He may be a dog," he smirked, "but he is a loyal dog. He may even be worthy of your love. Take good care of her, Jacob."