'Cause even underneath the waves

I'll be holding on to you

And even if you slip away

I'll be there to fall into the dark

To chase your heart

No distance could ever tear us apart

There's nothing that I wouldn't do

I'll find my way back to you

- "Find My Way Back" by Eric Arjes

We'd bought the Washington house back in the early nineties. It wasn't one I'd stayed at much, but it was a favorite for Char and her mate, Travis. The grey and green painted ranch-style house was located in Finley, a rural area about ten minutes from the older industrial area of Kennewick and set on a few acres with a view of the river.

In the time I'd been gone with the Cullens, Char and Travis had made what'd once been a bare bones house into a home. The floor was hardwood, with a pattern of dark and light wood. Thick rugs covered the central part of the living room and what would have been a dining room in a human occupied house. We'd ripped out the kitchen and knocked out the wall between it and the dining room to convert the space into Char's studio. Against the far wall was a huge granite fireplace, obviously well-used.

We rarely had much in the way of guests, but there was enough comfortable seating for the four of us, intermixed with a couple of maple wood end tables and large, overstuffed bookcases. One of Travis' best pieces hung on the wall; an oil painting of a waterfall surrounded by a pine forest.

The aforementioned vampire looked up from where he'd been sitting in one of the chairs, sketchbook in his lap and a pencil behind his ear. He looked the oldest out of all of us, having been changed in his mid-thirties, with a head full of thick brown hair, a permanent five o'clock shadow, and was built like a brick shithouse. Most people looked at him and saw only a dumb brute who only had a mind for brawling. The stereotype suited him just fine, as it made people less likely to guess his gift, which made sense once someone got to know him: he couldn't be sensed if he didn't want to be. It wasn't true invisibility, but it was damn close because even his scent could vanish. Something about him made him just blend right into the background. It'd made him my best scout back during the wars.

His red eyes flicked from me to Peter. "You two look like shit," he said flatly. Peter chucked a boot at him but he dodged it neatly. "Where's little bit?"

I gripped Peter's shoulder as he started to shake with rage, forcing every ounce of calm I could muster. Which frankly wasn't much because I was feeling out of sorts myself.

"Isabella's safe," I answered. I let go of Peter once I was sure he wasn't going to lose it and he stalked across the floor to throw himself on a chair sideways, and flung a leg over the arm. "Thanks to Peter we got there just in time; Victoria didn't have a hope in hell to get to her."

I dropped onto the couch and leaned forward to put my head in my hands. Vampires couldn't get tired but I was feeling something like it. It'd been a night of revelations and none of them good.

Charlotte decided to join us then, drifting down the hallway on silent feet before coming to a stop beside her mate. She sat on the arm of his chair and leaned into his touch when he wrapped an arm around her waist. She was a pretty thing with a heart shaped face, strawberry blonde hair that fell in soft waves a little past her shoulders, and a smile that could put the sun to shame. She threaded her fingers into Travis' hair as she asked me, "What happened?"

Before I could answer, Peter spat, "Our mate has a fuckin' boyfriend."

Char's face tightened as she looked at us with sympathy. "Are they serious?"

"He's gonna be seriously dead soon - " Peter said at the same time as I said, "She loves him."

Peter snarled at me and I hissed right back. He didn't challenge me further although I could see he wanted to. He'd put up a good front so as not to worry our mate, but as soon as she was out of earshot, he'd fallen apart. My brother was a passionate man who cared more deeply than most people ever did, vampire or human. This was going to take some time for him to get over.

Travis leveled him with a concerned look before sliding his eyes over to me, his eyebrows slightly raised in a silent question: is he going to be alright? I nodded once: he just needs time. Out loud I said, "She agreed to see us tomorrow and let us explain."

She made a considering noise as she stared off in the middle distance, lost in thought. "Are you going to call Jenks, or do you want me to do some digging on the boyfriend?"

Char was our tracker, one of the best, second only to the Volturi's Demetri. She could track anyone anywhere in the world, so long as she was able to first touch a person or something personal that belonged to them. That instinct to track spilled over into using computers to hunt; if there ever was an expert in cyberstalking and information gathering, it was her.

"Far be it from me to deny you some fun," I said, offering her a lazy smile, and she visibly brightened. Char was happiest when she had a goal. "The name's Liam Meyer." I rattled off the phone number I'd memorized from Isabella's phone when I put in my own number, and watched with some amusement as she blurred down the hallway and downstairs to the study where we kept the more sensitive things.

"How is she?" Travis asked and I wasn't sure what to tell him.

The meek and mild-mannered teenager girl who'd loved a boy so deeply she'd made herself smaller to not overshadow him was gone. The woman I'd met had a spine of iron that was equal parts natural as it was forged from pain and wore confidence like a second skin. She'd been broken, my gift saw it clearly, but she'd put in the work to not only heal but rebuild herself into something better. She was a fighter – just like I knew she was when she'd went to take on James by herself.

I'd seen glimpses of the woman she had the potential to be back then. It was in the way she'd smile slyly at Emmett's crude jokes and antics, her awe she felt as she watched Rosalie command a room simply by walking into it, her endless questions and thirst for knowledge she displayed during the rare moments she and I were able to spend any sort of time alone. The way she listened carefully to what was being said to her, actively taking in the information to understand what was being said rather than just listening to respond. The way she took care of her father who didn't need the coddling, but because she knew words weren't something either of them did and knew that he'd hear her I love you, dad through actions instead. The way she was so particular in organizing her music and book collection but was fine if the rest of her bedroom looked like a bomb had gone off.

She was a messy tangle of contradictions that came together to make a beautiful imperfect whole. The entire family had loved her. Even Rosalie, although she'd hadn't had the time to show it. My adopted sister was slow to warm up to someone, slower still to trust, and she'd liked the glimpses of the real Isabella that managed to peek through despite Edward's attempts to mold her into what he wanted.

When Edward told us Isabella had broken up with him and didn't want to see any of us again, none of us had believed it. I'd had to restrain Emmett to keep him from going after Bella, demanding explanations from his favorite sister, and Esme spent a long while staring at the phone, debating whether to call her youngest daughter to find out what was wrong. Even Carlisle was concerned; like any good father, he knew and understood the workings of his children's minds, and this was very, very odd for his youngest.

Edward played his manipulation games, plucking thoughts and insecurities out of our heads, weaving webs of doubt and shame, trying to paint our world as monstrous and how it would be a mercy to leave our girl behind.

Then he'd made the mistake of trying to appeal to Rosalie's desire to be human.

One of my favorite things about Rosalie was that she was as stubborn as a fucking mule when she wanted to be. The only thing more intense than her stubbornness was her loathing of Edward. She went toe to toe with him, arguing for hours about how we couldn't just abandon her, tearing into him about how poorly he'd treated her, and at one point managed to rip off his arm and beat him with it when he accidently let slip that he'd been sneaking into Isabella's room even before they were officially dating.

I'd also gotten a few bites in after that revelation.

We'd almost cowed him when Alice had a vision, and suddenly Edward's face had turned triumphant as he plucked whatever he saw out of her mind. The sorrow and shame that radiated from her nearly brought me to my knees and I knew as I looked into her venom filled eyes, we'd lost.

"If we stay, she'll die," was all she'd said before disappearing into her room.

Not even I could get anything out of her, and Edward refused to talk about what he'd seen. I'd resolved to stay anyway when Carlisle did the one thing I'd hoped he wouldn't.

As Master of his coven, he had a certain influence over the members, not unlike the alpha of the shapeshifters did over his pack. Unlike a pack member, a coven member could disobey a command – but it created an imbalance in the coven, triggering instincts to fight for dominance. I, however, had never allowed Carlisle to bite me, to mark me as a member of his coven. I was a guest of the Cullens with a permanent invitation to stay, but I was the Master of my own coven. The second Carlisle's exerted his influence, my instincts flared, and I had to leave – I would not fight Carlisle and a battle for dominance was inevitable if I stayed.

I left that night, but not before Alice extracted a promise to not set foot in Washington for at least four years. I had a deeply vested interest in keeping that promise – I would let nothing happen to mine and Peter's newfound mate, even if she didn't know that's what she was to us yet.

I didn't lay eyes on her again until earlier tonight and god she was magnificent in her fury. The pride I felt for her was bone-deep, and all I'd wanted was to haul her and Peter to bed so we could mate and change her right then and there.

Peter's bloodlust bordered on dangerous when we learned she had a boyfriend, fueling mine and my need to eliminate anyone who dared to pose as competition. It'd clouded my head, and I was ashamed of how I'd spoken to Bella when I tried to assert our claim. It was just one more apology I owed her, and I hoped she was just as forgiving as she'd been all those years ago.

"She's everythin' and more we could've asked for in a mate," I answered after a few moments. "But she doesn't trust us. I knew the Cullens leavin' would hurt her but the way she looked at me and Pete…" I trailed off, staring into the fire without really seeing it, instead my vision was filled with the image of a white-faced Isabella trembling with rage and an ocean's worth of emotional pain.

"Sounds like ya got yer work cut out for ya," Travis answered. The flames glittered strangely against his oxblood irises, the dark shade a clear indication he needed to hunt soon. So did I actually; using my gift so heavily over the last couple days had drained me faster than normal. I didn't think I was a danger to Isabella, but the same could not be said for her… boyfriend.

The road before Peter and I had just gotten more complicated. The plan had been to win her trust and eventually hope she'd love and accept us enough to make the change from human to vampire and accept us as her mates. Now, we had to contend with a human lover she was serious about. It was one thing to share with Peter – I would not, could not share with anyone else, human or vampire. She was going to have to end her relationship with the human of her own volition because she wanted to be with us instead, without any sort of outside influence from Peter and I.

If she were a vampire already this would be a non-issue. Her instincts would have led her to us and we'd likely already had her mated and marked by now. It was frustrating, confusing, and I didn't even know where to begin and I said as much to Travis.

He shifted in his seat to lean forward, elbows on his knees, fingers weaved together, and pointed his steepled index fingers at me as he said, "Yer gonna start with the truth, and then yer gonna step back and let her figure her shit out alone."

Peter was on his feet in an instant, his hands balled into tight fists, venom spraying as he let out an ugly hiss. "I've stayed the fuck away for five goddamned years. She's hurtin' and needs us –"

"She's hurtin' because o' ya, you fuckin' –"

"Enough!"

I was between them before the word had left my lips, half-crouched with a hand splayed on Peter's chest and the other held out in warning toward a tense Travis. "Cut your shit before I make you."

For a second it seemed like they considered teaming up to take me down before deciding against it. I was Master of the Whitlock coven, but it wasn't something I liked to assert if I could help it. It wasn't necessary in a healthy coven, like ours, but I had too, I'd shove some sense up their asses with my boot.

Peter gave me a withering glare and while it hurt, I refused to let it show. He shook me off and stalked down the hallway and up the stairs to his room, slamming the door hard enough I was pretty sure he'd broken something. I stared after him, itching to give chase, but stayed where I was. He just needed some time to calm down, just like I did.

I claimed the chair Peter had vacated, throwing one leg over the arm like he had, and stared into the fire for the rest of the night until the logs had turned to embers, my heart and mind stuck on Isabella Swan.

A/N: I wrote this chapter six times and I still hate it.

Was anyone else curious about vampire coven dynamics? No? Just me? Okay then.

I've always HC Jasper is very secure in his existence as a vampire. Meaning, he doesn't struggle with trying to pretend to be human because he's not human and is fine with it. So, he's more in tune with his vampire instincts and nature than the Cullens are because they do spend a lot of time rejecting what they are because of their ideals. It's not a problem that they value human life so highly that they deny themselves their natural food source, it's how they go about doing it if that makes sense. They'd probably be happier in their diamond hard skins if they accepted that it's okay to be a vampire, but also choose to blend in with the humans they care so much for. I hope that makes sense!

I promise, next chapter will have The Conversation!