Author's Note: Hey! Thanks so much to Li22i096, anonymous-lemonade, Tara22, Lil-Evans, Ali-Chan1, and tigress33 for leaving awesome reviews on this story so far. And thanks to everyone who is reading this story, whether they've left a review or not. I hope I can keep everyone's interest with this next chapter...it's a little bit shorter than the previous chapters (but still a good seven pages on Word, so not that short). I'd planned on making it longer, but then I found that I had good place to end the chapter a little earlier than I wanted to at first. Oh well. Hope you like it! Don't be shy if you do (or don't), and leave a reply.

The car ride home took hours, literally. Bella was driving, and though she was usually slow, this was on a whole new level. After fifteen minutes, I realized that she was driving in circles around town in order to give Edward more time to talk to (at) me in private.

"It was an errant thought," I told him after the fifth lap around—the first time he'd actually given me any breathing room to get a complete sentence out. The clock in front of the car said it was past my dinner time, and my stomach grumbled.

"It was a foolish thought," he corrected me.

That was when Bella made her feelings known. "I agree with you, Edward, but don't you think you're being a little hard on her? She agreed not to go through with her plan, and you know she's not lying." She said this in the calm, mesmerizing tone to which Edward could never resist succumbing. "Not to mention, Jacob seemed to get the point across firmly enough," she added.

I really wished, in that moment, that my dad could not read my mind like he could not read hers. I didn't want him to know that I could sense his jealousy that it had been Jacob who had talked me out of going. Edward knew that if I had still been planning to join the fight, he would have to physically force me out of it. His lecture was fruitless. And I hated that I let my realization of my father's failures into my mind, and, by default, his.

I took his pained silence for what it was—a kind of surrender. I felt tremendously guilty for hurting him, a feat that was too easy for me. So I banished his unenjoyable lecture from my brain, and instead focused on how much I needed him and Bella. I brought up memories of him teaching me to play the piano, of hunting with both of them, of them standing over Carlisle's shoulder whenever he treated my ills. Sure, Edward worried too much, but what else could I ask?

We came to the house just a few minutes after that, having said all that needed to be said. I walked behind my parents inside, more slowly than them. I could not detect any residue of Jacob's scent; he wasn't here, and he hadn't been here.

"I'll get you dinner," Bella said when I closed the door behind me.

I only shook my head. I didn't feel hungry anymore, not like I had just half an hour ago. I didn't even crave blood—my normal dinner in New Hampshire. Though I hadn't had any lunch, the last thing I wanted was to indulge in a "human" diet that did not even taste good. I hated eating meals other than breakfast, though my parents were trying hard to change my ways. I planned on making Jacob take me hunting this weekend. Then I wouldn't need to eat as much.

But Jacob was probably…well, wherever he had found a place to live. And no doubt, he was angry at me, or else he'd be here. I shouldn't have lashed out at him, I scolded myself. My heart felt like it was collapsing onto my stomach. Why had everything gone wrong?

My mom acknowledged my refusal. "You know we can't let you go to school hungry…or thirsty," she said.

"Fine," I said. I could not find an emotion to put behind the word, and I could not find the will to argue. She didn't push the issue, though, and escaped into the kitchen.

I followed her. "Do you want help?" I asked, forcing a smile. I felt ashamed for being so impolite, and wanted to make it up to her. On the inside, my enthusiasm was lacking, but I attempted to fake some.

It must have worked, because she returned the smile as she grabbed a round pan from a cabinet above the stove. "Get out one of the frozen pepperoni pizzas from the freezer," she said, and I obeyed.

My mom was a good cook, better than anyone else in my family, but frozen pizza was always a failsafe option. After she placed it in the oven, we had twelve minutes to kill before it was ready. She sat down at the table, and motioned for me to take a seat by her. A mother-daughter talk. I should have known that it was coming as soon as Bella could get me alone.

I obliged her, and even started the conversation. "I was telling the truth in the car. I won't risk my life if Joham finds us." If, I said, not when. I didn't want to admit how imminent this danger really was.

"This isn't about Joham," she said. My heart sank even further than my stomach this time. If she didn't want to talk about the threat we were facing, there was really only one other possibility, and one I certainly did not want to talk about at the moment.

"Jacob," I said softly. I never noticed before that everything in my life seemed to come back to him somehow. For better or for worse, we were connected.

She reached out and put her hands over mine, which were resting on the table. "I know how much you care about him," she said. I wondered if that were true, if anyone could truly understand the depth of my feelings for Jacob. I sure couldn't. Bella continued. "But I'm worried that the way your life and your happiness revolves around him isn't healthy for you."

I held back a snort. I shouldn't have laughed, I know, but the idea of my mother, of all people, telling me that I was involved in an obsessive relationship was hysterical. "He's the only friend I've got other than my family," I told her. "I get lonely without him."

"You'd die for him," she argued. "That may seem noble, but think about how deep you're in."

"There's a difference between living for someone and dying for someone," I told her. I honestly didn't know what the difference was, but I wasn't going to concede to her. Not about this, anyway. "Besides, you'd die for me or Dad."

"That's different," she protested.

"How?"

She pursed her lips. Did she even have an answer? "I truly love you both, and you love me back," she said at last.

Now she was starting to go too far. "And I don't love Jacob. He doesn't love me." That statement sounded so ridiculous on my tongue that it didn't even require disproving.

She didn't have anything to say to that. Silence consumed us for the next few minutes. I tried to hold my indignation in check, to keep any of it from showing on the outside. I could live with her warnings about getting too close to Jacob, but something else bothered me about what she had said. Or didn't say. The unspoken thoughts, the words behind her words. She actually believed that I could not love Jacob as much as she loved Edward—that whatever would arise between the two of us would never be nearly as strong as the bond between them. The arrogance in this notion was enough to tempt me to stomp up to my bedroom, frozen pizza be damned.

I would not deny that she loved Edward, more than she loved me even, but it was hardly fair that I should be deemed incapable of such love. I was her daughter, after all. Though I vowed to take a much healthier approach to falling in love than she had, be it with Jacob or some random guy from school, when it did happen I would not hold back any of the passion or feeling that she and Edward had passed on to me.

The buzz of the oven timer brought both Bella and I to our feet. She pulled the pan out, no potholders necessary, and set it on the counter. She didn't need a knife, either, using her hands to cut the pizza into perfect slices. "How many do you want?" she asked as I grabbed a plate.

"Just two," I said. "I'll save the rest for tomorrow." I thought better of mentioning that I would be saving some for Jacob as well.

I scarfed down those slices as quickly as possible, not even bothing to use the plate I had gotten or to sit down. My vampire teeth came in handy for eating. They allowed for faster consumption, and I didn't have the bland taste in my mouth for too long. When I was done, I went to my room without dismissing myself.

I noticed his scent before I entered; it caught me by surprise. No doubt Edward knew that he was sneaking up there, which made me wonder what the whole point was of using the window instead of the door. Maybe he didn't feel like dealing with anymore "bloodsuckers" today.

I closed the door behind me to give us some privacy. This was the first time he'd been in my new room, and it was on the second floor, which must have provided a fun challenge for him.

"Are you angry?" were the first words out of my mouth. I didn't even give myself time to study his expression before asking; if I had, I probably would have noticed the ear-to-ear grin that I loved so much.

To answer, he took two long strides toward me and wrapped me in his tightest embrace, lifting me off the floor. I would have put my arms around him if they weren't trapped. When he placed me down, it took a moment for me to regain my balance. He used that moment to answer my question. "Nah, I'm proud of you."

I sat down on the edge of my bed and he sat next to me. "You're…proud of me? For assaulting you?" There could be no way that pushing Jacob was something I should not have been ashamed of. Even if he was being a jerk, he didn't deserve that. At least, not in my mind.

"You took a stand," he said.

"I lost," I reminded him.

"Naturally," Jacob told me. "I'm a lot more experienced at winning battles than you are."

I couldn't banish the flicker of resentment that arose in me. Was that what this afternoon had been about for him? Winning? Should I congratulate him on being the most manipulative best friend in the world? "Maybe you should run a victory lap," I said, and looked away from him.

"Come on, Nessie," he said, rubbing my shoulder. I still didn't turn my head. Childish, yes, but I now remembered why I had pushed him. I wasn't any less angry, just more calm. "You know I've always protected you and given you whatever you needed."

"Almost," I said curtly.

I heard him sigh. He tucked my hair behind my ear. "You're still so young, Ness."

At that, I turned around abruptly, causing him to startle back just a little. Yes, I knew I was young, but I was mature beyond my years in the ways it most mattered. "I'd be ready if you'd let me be ready," I snapped.

His answer was to shake his head. "I don't want you to be ready."

"Why not?" My voice rose with the question.

"Because you've barely had a life," he said, matching me in tone. He inhaled like he was trying to reel in his emotions. His next words were quieter. "What I mean is, you'll be six-years-old next month. Six years, trust me, is not a long time. Not long enough. Think of all you haven't done because you haven't had the time yet."

I tried to do what he asked, and I supposed what he was saying was true. But as far as I could tell, I lacked nothing in my life. At least, nothing that I could put a finger on. It would be a lie to say I felt that I was complete. Jacob was right. Death scared me. I couldn't understand my family's fascination with humanity because I couldn't imagine being anything other than immortal. Part of that was a fear of the unknown—whatever kind of afterlife would greet me. But another part of me said that my aversion to death was more of a fear of not living. I loved life too much to let it go.

"Ness, I know that there are things worth dying for," he continued. I nodded. "I just want you to understand…some of those same things, they're worth living for, too."

There's a difference between living for someone and dying for someone, I'd told my mom. My parents were more than willing to give their lives so that I would be safe. But they only lived for each other, and if one of them were to die, I didn't doubt that the other would soon follow willingly, even if I begged for it to be otherwise. As for me? I was still trying to work all of that out in my head. I couldn't imagine the type of pain that would make me want to die. If Jacob died…but I didn't allow myself that thought. It was impossible.

I fell back onto my bed, leaving my feet dangling off the end. "Did you mean it when you said that if I were killed, that you would…" I trailed off, but he got what I was trying to ask.

He growled as he fell beside me. I read an odd mixture of anger and contentment on his face—those two emotions, of course, were pointed in completely different directions. "It wouldn't be right if you died and they lived," he said.

"So revenge is worth dying for?" I asked.

I thought that would have hit a sore spot, but Jacob smiled. "Maybe. If I had nothing left to live for."

I stared at the ceiling, thinking. "You're vowing to avenge me," I said, more to myself than to him. He heard it anyway.

"I'm praying I never have to."

I closed my eyes, realizing that I was worn out. "Jake?" I whispered.

"Yeah?"

"Stay here tonight." I took a deep breath and let his heat invade my lungs as he leaned in toward me. His smooth lips pressed against my forehead. I couldn't understand why his scent digusted my family so much; to me, there was nothing sweeter.

The sound of a pillow ruffling beside me as he lay his head down—his acquiesence to my request—brought me peace. I could rest easy in the knowledge that he was next to me, always ready to protect me.

"I forgot to mention," he said, bringing me out of my reverie and causing my eyes to open to look at him, "you look very beautiful today. More than usual, I mean."

I smiled at him. I had forgotten about the ensemble Alice had laid out for me that morning. My appearance was the last thing on my mind, and hearing Jacob associate the word "beautiful" with me…well, that brought about a strange kind of euphoria in me that could have made me giggle, if only I wasn't feeling so tired.

"More beautiful than that Veronica Grey?" I asked, but only to tease him. That girl practically oozed sexiness out of her pores—we certainly were not in the same league.

To my surprise, Jacob laughed. "Your father had a class with her. He told me some of her thoughts. Apparently, she took quite a shine to me." He laughed some more. I knew what that meant. He was telling me that the idea he would find her attractive was completely ridiculous.

"Not to me," I gathered.

Jacob shook his head. "Some of her fantasies were rather…intense," he said.

I grimaced. Ew. It hadn't been two years since I'd exited the "boys are icky" stage, and I was still getting used to the idea of human sexual passions. Maybe when I got older the idea would not be so repulsive to me. "Too much information," I said.

"Not her fantasies about me, necessarily. About you." I blinked at him. Was he saying what I thought he was saying? "Not like that. I mean, she liked me. And she was envisioning scenarios that would force you out of the picture."

Oh. Well, that made more sense. "Let me guess: these fantasies of hers involved me dying some horrible death and and then she would comfort you in your grief," I said.

He nodded. "Your dad told your mom, and well, your mom wasn't very happy at all. He thought he was going to have to restrain her."

The visualization of my mom screaming at Veronica kind of creeped me out, but it was a humorous thought. As long as Bella didn't get violent…and she had pretty good self-control for a vampire. There was something else that was bothering me, though.

"You didn't answer my question," I said.

Jacob ruffled my hair with his hand. "Veronica Grey's got nothing on you," he said.

I laid my head on his shoulder, ready to fall asleep with his arms around me. "It's still early, isn't it?" I stifled a yawn. I still needed to change into my pajamas if I was ready to fall asleep, which I was. Today had been nothing if not exhausting. "I hope Joham doesn't find us tonight," I said as an afterthought.

I felt Jacob's body stiffen. "He won't," he said tightly.

We stayed like that for what must have been nearly an hour. I never fell asleep, savoring each moment. I don't know how I found the will to get up from that position. Maybe it was his snoring, or maybe it was the fact that my arm was starting to tingle. Whatever it was, something motivated me to leave him alone, if only for a few minutes, so I could brush my teeth and do all of the things that my family didn't need to worry about.

I met Edward on the way to the bathroom, and he stopped me. "Forgive me for my harshness to you this afternoon," he said.

The hours-long car ride I had suffered through was the farthest thing on my mind. I had others worries; we all did. "It's fine, Dad," I said.

He shook his head. "No, it isn't." The seriousness in his expression rattled me. I was getting a famliar vibe from him, like I was feeling his guilt. He didn't think he was worthy of me. I didn't know why he thought that, but it was something I'd never quite gotten used to. There was no reason for it. He was the best father in the world.

He smiled as I thought that. "You're wrong, you know," he said.

About him being the best father in the world? I doubted that. I mean, there were times I got agitated with him and all that, but that was normal for teenagers, I'd heard.

"About what you were thinking in there, when you were talking to Jacob," he clarified.

"You were listening?" I almost amended his title of "world's best father." That was pretty low, but somehow I wasn't surprised. Edward had a bit of a protective streak when it came to me and my mother.

He shrugged as if he had done nothing wrong, and I sighed. Some things would never change. "I do live for you," he said.

I looked away. "I believe you," I said. I was careful not to think about whether or not I was telling the truth. Even though my dad was a living polygraph, I had some experience at fooling him.

He took a step toward me and kissed me on the forehead like Jacob had a while ago. "We're going to get through this," he said. "I won't let anything happen to you. Neither will your mother."

"Thanks," I said, and he walked past me with one last caress on my shoulder. I tried not to think about what he was off to do with my mom, as I made my way into the bathroom.

The pain started as my hand went to grab my toothbrush. My last coherent feeling was regret that I had locked the door… My head could have exploded for the burning sensation that overcame me. In that moment there was nothing but unbearable agony. I hadn't made a conscious effort to fall to my knees, to cradle my forehead in my palms—that was just the only way to keep my body from losing itself in convulsions.

I heard a man's voice…in my head?…silky, seductive, dangerous: You cannot survive without giving in. You can never defeat the Volturi. I am your only chance.

There was a loud crashing sound behind me, and then something was squeezing me so hard that I could hardly breathe.

There were more voices around me, only these weren't inside of me. They could have been coming from a thousand miles away. The frantic sound of my name made me wonder if I was dying, but that wasn't possible. The ache continued, showing no signs of subsiding. The next overwhelming sound was a horrible groan…mine.

"Renesmee," whispered someone into my ear.

I knew that voice: deep and husky and beautiful. I forced myself to look around and focus on something, anything, other than the pain. I saw his perfect face; my personal guardian. I tried opening my mouth to talk, but found even that difficult to manage. "Jake," I coughed out, and then my senses shut down and left me in a world of darkness and silence.