Chapter Fourteen

Flashback: December 2116

Renesmee had been away from Port Townsend for three hours when she got the first call from home. Being strong enough to run away and brave enough to ignore it, she didn't even look at her phone. She continued to drive, but within minutes, she realized she was far too tired, and very hungry. She just wasn't about to hunt down a deer. Looking out at the Vancouver BC skyline as she drove on the freeway, going out to eat at a real restaurant didn't sound like a bad idea.

She stumbled upon an old-fashioned diner. It wasn't too crowded, but it was just busy enough for her to slip in unnoticed. She wasn't in a hurry, but she wasn't in a mood to make friends, either.

A group of young adults just around her age (in a way) followed her into the diner, making up for the lack of noise she had made upon entering. They were laughing at something that somebody had probably just said in the car. There were three women and two men - not a large group - but Renesmee couldn't take her eyes off the man with baby blue eyes and chocolate brown hair. He had a beard, but his eyes were the most noticeable thing about him. She followed him with own her eyes, but when he wouldn't look at her, she quickly gave up. Her feelings weren't hurt,

though. She didn't attract much attention here. Maybe she truly wasn't anything special. In fact, she kind of liked it.

So Renesmee minded her business at her little table at the diner. She saw that group leave, as well as four others come and go. She wasn't asked to leave, though; she merely wasn't that noticed. Either that or she, being a pretty white girl, didn't look at all sketchy.

It was almost midnight when she left the dinner, and she went out to her car to think. She didn't have to go straight to Denali; she hadn't been told to go there. Of course, it was her end goal, but she was allowed to take detours. She allowed herself to take detours. She couldn't allow herself to be hunted down, though, and as much as her Forks family claimed to respect her privacy, she knew they wouldn't leave her alone if she didn't say anything, especially in the way that she had initially departed.

So Renesmee sent a brief text message to Alice: In Canada right now. Don't look for me. I'll end up in Denali eventually.

She instantly got a reply: Tanya will be waiting for you.

Renesmee was as free as it was possible for her.

The first thing she did after consulting with Alice was get rid of her car and cell phone. They each had a tracker, naturally, and she didn't want Tanya to get impatient and go out looking for Renesmee herself. Also, the Cullens just weren't honest. They would also grow impatient and track Renesmee down, and she just couldn't have that.

After clearing her car of any personal documents and dumping it into Chehalis Lake, Renesmee ran. She knew she would avoid the criminal charges that normal people she faced just by walking, but in the darkness, she felt like she was running to live. She was running to her new life. After all this waiting, it was finally going to start. She almost wished she could tell her mother that she made it at last.

Within a couple of weeks, Renesmee had found her people. No, not the other hybrids in the world - Nahuel was really hard to get a hold of, and Renesmee wasn't that patient, especially now - but people who shared similar souls with her. They were the kind of people who had nothing to lose and nothing to gain anymore, but they wanted to make their lives into a work of art. Renesmee was similar in that she wanted her existence to be beautiful, and not wasteful.

She didn't have a special place in the world, but she didn't mind because with the people she was around, she didn't have to. They were fond of living and breathing, and so was she. She didn't have to be special. She just had to be.

Renesmee's little Vancouver motorcycle-gang-slash-traveling-garage-band consisted of people of various ages and backgrounds. She wasn't even the youngest, and she hadn't even been the most sheltered, of the people she had met. The group didn't have a name, but what Renesmee learned was that they picked up people in the towns around Vancouver, people who wanted to be found and find something all at once, and they would all ride. Just ride. They were fond of drinking all day and talking until dark. The members tended to be the homeless, but Renesmee fit right in. She was one of them.

They all really had each other's backs, even though people came and went, left and right. Renesmee was more loyal than most, and her leaders, Art and Travis, were appreciative of her. And they'd noticed her, but not in the annoying way that most people did. They were the people back at the diner, and they had definitely noticed her. They'd told her so.

On Christmas Eve, the group picked up seven more people near Surrey, the most they'd ever gotten since Renesmee had joined along with nine others. She was on good terms with Art, but better terms with Travis, so she always found herself at the latter man's side.

"When did you guys start this?" she asked him as the newer people were welcomed. They were all outside an older but massive gas station. Renesmee wrapped her fingers around her king-sized cup of coffee, hoping to get some more warmth out of it. She was freezing. She was also relatively weak; she hadn't consumed blood in forever, but she didn't really have anybody to confess to about that. They were all close, but not that close. Maybe if she didn't smoke cigarettes so much, she'd be feeling just a little bit better, but cigarettes always felt too damn good when she smoked them.

"About a year ago," Travis replied. His baby blue eyes glittered under the giant lights as he took a drag from his cigarette. He shut his eyes as he let the smoke out. "We didn't really have a reason behind it," he added. "I mean, you've got all these people out here on the streets. They've got nothing. Nobody. We try to help out a little on what we like to call an endless world tour."

"Try to get them to live a little," Renesmee said. "Everybody needs that chance."

"You're right, Vanessa," he said. "You're right."

She hadn't told anybody her real name; she would be noticed too much with it. She had to still have boundary lines.

Renesmee/Vanessa leaned against Travis' body, taking in his warmth. He wrapped an arm around her, and she realized that she liked him a lot. She liked his long brown hair and scruffy face. She liked his intentions. She didn't know how old he was, but she liked his maturity, too. She liked his perspective. Compared to Art, Travis was far more artistic. That was why she was so drawn to him. Maybe if the idea of Denali didn't work out - because on the coldest nights, like tonight, her extended family was really on her mind - she would stay with Travis forever. She already decided that she'd miss him forever, and she hadn't even left him yet.

"I really like you," she told him. "I like you a lot."

"You, too," she said. "I like you, too, baby girl."

Without even thinking, she kissed him, her breath tasting like cheap, sour coffee and old cigarettes. It was disgusting when she thought about it, but she didn't think about it. When she didn't think about it, it was better than anything she had ever known. It was actually pretty damn good.

Sex with Travis was actually pretty damn good, too. Since her first time, she knew that she didn't want to leave him, as much as she would have to. Renesmee and Travis fit together like puzzle pieces. She had been with Art before Travis, back when she had been stupid and assumed she had to sleep with somebody to be taken in, and it was ugly. She didn't like the way Art moved and how he felt with her. Something about him was too rough. Travis, though, was nearly perfect. He was real. And he was bad; he was shades and shades of bad. But Renesmee was a sucker for the bad guys with good intentions, especially the ones who were so good at it. Travis was too good at being bad for her to ignore him.

Maybe she had changed. Maybe she was bad now, too. If so, she didn't really mind. She was with the right people who had the right intentions. If she wasn't so cold, she would stay forever.

Travis kissed her back with a sense of nostalgia, like he knew their endless world tour was coming to a bittersweet end, too. How? How was he supposed to know anything? Maybe she inadvertently put her thoughts in his head; maybe she was too open. She was as wide and unwavering as the ocean out here, and she had a chameleon soul, too. Some days she was like her mother, with a fixed personality and way of doing things (which were often things she was not happy with), but most days she was a reincarnation of her father. Most days, she did what she felt was right for her. Most days, she said, "Fuck the world" and did what made her happy. Travis like that side of her a lot better, the side that was bad and uncaring.

Minutes later, Renesmee got on the back of Travis' black motorcycle. Out here, she tried not to think of things back home in Forks, but some things were too uncanny to ignore. It was sad, really, as well as crazy. Renesmee had found a pack of her own, a coven of her own. It was so similar to what she had known, that maybe there hadn't been a reason to leave at all.

The next day at dawn, Renesmee woke up in an alleyway next to Travis. She hadn't made any decisions until this morning, and she decided it was time to go. She was clearly her father's kid; she didn't like to think much, and she liked to move. When she kept it moving and didn't get too attached, she was okay. This morning, Christmas morning, she was okay.

Travis wasn't fully awake yet, which was probably a good thing. She hugged him tight and kissed his rough cheek. "I'm gonna go," she whispered.

He didn't reply. He would be okay, anyway. They would both be.

Renesmee was clad in the clothes she had on when she'd ran away, but her right boot had a hole at the toe, her jeans were ripped, and her jacket was no good. Her hair was matted with dirt, she smelled of cigarettes and garbage, and her teeth desperately needed to be brushed. She hadn't slept well since she'd initially left, and she hadn't hunted since before then, wanting to be completely safe before she hunted again. It had driven her wild.

Staggering to the residence of her extended family in Denali two days later, Renesmee was surprised that she had made it. As feral as she probably looked and definitely felt, though, she didn't regret being on the road. She didn't regret being with Travis. She just had to accept that that chapter of her life was over, and she was on a new one, but not a new life entirely.

She wished she could explain that as she was being scolded by her cousins.

Upon stepping onto their snow-covered driveway, they all met her outside with looks of complete surprise and relief all in one. They knew that she would come to them eventually, but they had never known when. They'd always waited. They could have scoped out the coast of British Columbia, where her tracker had last been, but they trusted her enough to let her find her own way. That was where her Denali and Forks families were different.

Being reprimanded, however, was just the same. It was Carmen who did most of it, but her voice was just too nice for Renesmee to feel offended.

While everybody else had gone out to buy Renesmee clothes and food, Carmen stayed with her. They sat at the dining room table, and Carmen was watching Renesmee dial her old house's number.

Renesmee waited for somebody to pick up the phone, hoping it wouldn't be her father and knowing it wouldn't be her mother. If Edward answered, she would have nothing to say to him because he would hardly care at all, or at least act like he didn't. Renesmee hoped Bella would answer; she would definitely care. But she had been so far removed from the rest of the family the last time Renesmee had been home. Back in October, when Bella had nearly killed Edward in a horrific accident, Renesmee had said the worst thing she could have said to Bella: she called her a monster. It was ugly, and it lived on. Bella was probably still angry. If Renesmee ever got to talk to her again, she would say that she was sorry.

And of course, there was Jacob. Renesmee couldn't mentally avoid him forever. He had to be in an even worse condition. Renesmee was truly the monster in their relationship. How could she be upset when he was in pain, when she was the only person inflicting it? She could snap his neck herself and, wearing a frown, wonder why he allowed himself to be injured like that. Oh, woe is me. Woe is me.

If he answered the phone, what would she even say to him? Sorry didn't cut it, not for her crimes against him. He would more than likely forgive her due to the magic in his brain that saw her as a perfect little flower, but she was tired of the free passes she got with him. She only broke him over and over again because she could, and she would burst into tears if she ever witnessed him upset, because she knew exactly why he was the way he was.

Maybe she wouldn't be able to talk to him. Not today. She owed him more than the world, and if she was really considerate of his feelings, then she would go back to Forks, but that wasn't going to happen today. She was definitely her parents' child; she wasn't anywhere near brave or strong.

Somebody finally answered the phone, and Renesmee was and wasn't surprised to hear Carlisle's soothing voice.

"I'm home," Renesmee said weakly. "Or here, at least. And I'm okay."

"I'm glad to hear that. How have you been?"

"Just fine. Is my mom around?"

"Yes," Carlisle said, "but she's not very well."

"She's not?"

"No. She hasn't spoken to - or even wanted to speak to - anybody since the accident."

Renesmee's heart broke for Bella. "Do you think she would want to speak with me?" she asked, her voice cracking in the middle.

"I'm not sure," Carlisle replied. "Would you like me to ask her?"

"No," Renesmee asserted. "No, thank you."

"Would you like to speak with Edward?"

"Never," she said. Then she hung up.

Sitting at the table with Carmen, she held her head in her hands, covering up her eyes. She didn't even cry; she was more angry than sad. She listened to herself breathe, to remind herself that she was very alive and very real and that this was all real. Her father truly was a piece of shit; she wasn't just imagining it this time. Edward did not have any regards for Bella or her feelings; how could have Renesmee been so blind? Maybe it was because she was her father's kid; she got her lack of intuition from him. But she could never be that cruel. Her mother was mute and alone because of him. Renesmee could apologize to her a thousand times and it still wouldn't do anything because what Bella needed was him.

Edward had set Bella on fire, and continued to do nothing to put out the flames. He watched her burn, either thinking she deserved to, or not thinking at all to realize that he was wrong.

"I hate him," Renesmee mumbled.

"There have been a lot of issues since your father turned back," Carmen said.

Renesmee moved her hands back and looked at her cousin. She nodded. "Too many," she replied, "and I've only seen a few of them."

"You can stay here as long as you'd like," Carmen reminded her. "Just know that."

She was too sincere, too sweet. Renesmee wished she had lived with Carmen her entire life; maybe then she would still believe in the kindness of family as opposed to the kindness of strangers.

Renesmee gave Carmen a small smile. "I will," she promised.

A/N: The next chapter will return back to the present. This flashback was much-needed for the sake of future chapters.

Thank you,

HS