"I walked through fire, and didn't get burned."

- Claire, to Sandra (Genesis)

Part Sixteen:

Edward's POV:

Wide eyes meet mine from the deep recesses of the dark alley. Scorched, blood soaked, and hopelessly tattered clothes hang off a person that should be equally mutilated, but instead, offers a poor covering to an unmarked body whose heart beats strong within it.

Fingers grasp at the wall behind, looking for a hold as if it might yield some support while her mind attempts to process the apparent chaos that must have fallen over the world. Fear, confusion, and an assortment of other emotions have become like a whirl wind in her head while the face she wears is only a blank mask worn in order to hide behind.

Lips part as she whispers my name as both a statement and a question. Her eyes squint at me like she expects me to either disappear or morph into something else entirely before her. Without even reading her mind, I know what she means. Everything has changed and nothing is certain.

I'm privy to how her mind races, leaving her with multiple possibilities. Pieces of the puzzle she has held become more defined with clarity as the bigger picture melds both her and my reality into one. She starts to make the connections, fitting clues left by me and ones she has gathered from her own deductions together.

…Unpredictable actions and cryptic words. Abnormal topaz eyes that see more than they should…No appetite… Mysterious past and family…Stealthy footsteps that are never heard…Skin that is cool to the touch… Absent on sunny days…

Claire purposefully strides over to me, closing the distance as I have longed to do, but hadn't in fear of making an already volatile situation worse. Boldly, a small hand reaches out to grasp mine. Knowing her intent, I nonetheless allow her to lead me a few steps forward into the remaining beam of sunlight that is almost swallowed up by the towering buildings.

And my skin sparkles.

It is almost like an audible click when her mind confirms it. I'm a vampire too.

Time seems to hang in suspension as her stillness matches my own in every way save her heart beat. My acute senses are trained on her to gauge her reaction; however, she is strangely calm. Even her breathing remains rhythmic. Lips part to speak but she remains silent. Words are useless if she doesn't know her own mind. Her green eyes just drift off while that small hand continues to hold mine as if forgotten.

A jerky movement catches her attention and she looks back to the vampire that convulses on the cement. The big unveiling of my secret is quickly upstaged by the fear that leaks in and settles into the forefront of her mind. She comes to herself, pulling her arms in close like she was trying to ward off a chill. Her feet take her a step back, then two, positioning me between her and the vampire; all the while her eyes remaining fixed on him.

Doubting my touch could bring any comfort, I let my body be used as a belated shield as I too observe the vampire with both disgust and curiosity. My senses pick up more than those of Claire's and I can tell his bodily functions are a mess. His thoughts sputter and jump, a woman with flaming red hair flashes through. Faintly, for just a second, I hear something that no vampire is capable of - a heartbeat - then nothing. Even his fragmented thoughts have fallen silent. There will never be anymore to be read.

Instantly, I crouch down beside him, fascination overwhelming me.

"Is it-he …dead?" Claire whispers, peeking at the body from around me.

"Yes, he is" I answer, wonder filling my voice as I stare into the glazed over green eyes of the once vampire.

"How?" Claire's mind runs through the encounter and resulting struggle; unbeknownst to her, also letting me see. The entire escapade is recounted, and I find myself turning away from the mystery lying dead in front of me to the living one standing behind. I was sure I had memorized every feature and expression; yet somehow each time I look at her, something reveals itself like the pieces of herself that slip out. Those green eyes do not betray her innermost thoughts the way her mind does, revealing extraordinary impossibilities I have only hypothetically considered. This, and the memory fragments from the vampire, leaves me too in a state of wonder.

The vampire was dead under most definitions of the word before Claire and he crossed paths. He needed no oxygen to fill his lungs or a heart to pump blood. He only needed to drink the life from his victims to continue his semblance of one. Conscious and aware he was still, but what separates him from that which he hunts long had been lost, becoming no more than a specter.

Claire, beautiful, and so alive, had the misfortune to catch his attention. To where he lurked, her strong scent of blood carried, healthy, pure, promising to quench the most potent thirst. So while she enjoyed wandering around Seattle, aglow in the sunshine, he mirrored her movements from the shadows, waiting for an opportunity to present itself. And then it happened in the most unexpected of ways. Torn between an intense inquisitiveness about something that contradicted all he had ever known, and a strong lust for the clean pure scent of her blood, he ended up paying the price for both.

Her blood has a kind of healing property which is the only explanation to her still being alive when the scarlet stains on her clothes tell a contradictory tale. His playful experiments were only a prelude to the meal he tried to make of her, yet somehow she lived. It was not gluttony that killed him, or any human-like ailment. Something in her blood did this. If it heals her and kept her alive through all this, then perhaps when he ingested it, it had the same effect. Only a vampire is already dead, more alien than human, other. It tried to reverse the effects of vampire venom, and perhaps it was not enough, for it halted between human and stone, where no life can be found. Thus, the creature died.

This only explains the beginning of the inconsistencies which contradicted what logic dictated, as when my heightened senses confirmed what my eyes told me to be true: she was unharmed when she should be dead, or worse. Yet here I am, just staring as I wait for that familiar deep comprehension to settle in my mind, answers ready before the questions are asked, but it is not coming. For the first time since …when? I feel as perhaps a normal human would, without the many years of observation and study, none of the telepathy or heightened vampire senses. I am no longer the keeper of secrets, but a seeker as well, more than I had previously supposed.

Claire no longer seems interested in the answer she had previously been waiting for me to give; her attention is diverted. She looks over her shoulders and even up towards the top of the buildings, reminding me of a small animal suspecting a bird of prey to sweep down and carry her off. A blonde woman and dark skinned man enter her thoughts, filling her with a renewed urgency. She stumbles backwards, the overwhelming events of the day beginning to break through the shock that she had been coping in.

"Claire?" Concern colors my tone and I stand but do not move forward, still hesitant of her possible reactions.

She shakes her head back and forth ever so slightly, eyes wide. I pick up the one loose thread that I can positively derive meaning from which tells me this day is far from over.

They're coming.

Claire's POV:

They have to be coming. I saw their purposeful looks. My act of defiance will not be enough. They will come to witness the results of my escape attempt, see if I'm dead, or if not, take me with them. Why wouldn't they? I have to go now! How long do I have before they are here? It feels like hours ago though it must be more like minutes. They must be here soon! They will have had to finish taking care of the sales clerk if they had not already, and if nothing else slows them down…

I look at Edward momentarily and my mouth opens like I owe him some kind of explanation. His look speaks volumes, but I can hardly formulate my own thoughts, much less a verbal sentence that could somehow summarize the chaotic mess this weekend, no, my life has turned out to be.

"I've got to go," I say like my skitter-ish manner and hasty retreat doesn't already signal my intent to leave. I give a half-hearted shrug, a completely unfitting and inadequate gesture under the present circumstances. Unsure of my own motives for doing so, my eyes linger on him as my arms remain awkwardly frozen. I think right now I don't want him to understand, just leap like I had wanted him to before. And now, it is his move again.

Edward removes his jacket and hangs it on one of my arms like I'm a coat rack. An indignant flash runs through my system, making me feel strangely normal for a second, but then I realize this had a logical purpose. He means it as a covering for my very conspicuous appearance, another surprising and calculated yet such an Edward-esque move.

I attempt to slip it on, finding his jacket dwarfs my small frame, passing my hips and stopping above my knees; my hands don't even reach the ends of the sleeves. As I roll them up, aiming for a less homeless person look even though I could also probably pass for one of the walking dead, I know I catch a smirk on Edward's face even though a trace cannot be found a moment later when I do a double take. It is behind him now, or at least, very well hidden.

In a single swift motion with abnormal ease, he picks up the body from the ground and swings it over his shoulder, holding it secure with one hand and indicating the way out of the alley with the other like this is the most normal course of action in the world. He is going along, so I don't comment on his peculiar action. Though I feel like blanching, I try to keep my expression impassive as I turn around and walk just as swiftly out of the alley as he had swept up the body.

Even if I could hear above the blood pounding in my ears, and if all the noise from the city simply faded away, I know I would not hear his footsteps from where he silently shadows me from behind, just another indication of him being abnormal that I had overlooked. When I next blink, my eye lids stay closed for a fraction of a second longer. I'm trying not to think about it all. If I do, I'll have to act, do, or say something and I just can't right now. I don't even know. I just need to move.

At the end of the alley I freeze, knowing that Elle and the Haitian could be biding their time like a couple of spiders waiting for me to fly out and become ensnared in their web. I also become acutely aware of how strange Edward, the corpse, and I must look to any passerby. My hand zips from my side to snag the sleeve of his shirt and stop him even as the sleeve of the jacket unravels over my hands. He looks down at me as if surprised that I had touched him, and then easily breaks free from my feeble hold to stride on out into the open. Once there, with an easy confidence, he looks over at me and says, "All clear," like I'm paranoid when he is the one being rash. How could he have known it was clear?

I stick my head out from around the corner suspiciously and find it to be exactly as he said. Edward's Volvo is parked at the end of the street where Edward has the trunk lid popped open as he stuffs the vampire's body in. I turn my head, cringing, but then realize that my truck is parked in the direction I'm facing. The truck isn't parked on such a quiet street such as this but I'm sure I can sneak over and-

Instantaneously he is beside me, easily keeping pace even though I'm walking so fast I'm nearly running. Not slowing down a bit, I look over my shoulder at him and from where we just came. His expression is more than anxiety ridden; it is more filled with urgency. The trunk of his Volvo is closed but the passenger side door is open. "Claire…" He begins but I cut him off, knowing exactly what he intends.

"Hell no," I say and vehemently shake my head. How could he possibly think that I'd get into the same vehicle as he when he has that thing in it, notwithstanding the fact that he is the same –but not the same- and I have no idea what to think- I just- I want my truck, something familiar, comfortable- I need some kind of control over everything – I-

"Claire," His voice doesn't waver, steady in his convictions. "You do not want to go this way. I'll take you home. You stand out too much. There are too many people on the main streets."

I shoot him a look that tells him exactly what I think of that. There is more to it than that; I know there is, he just isn't telling me.

Like clockwork it comes, the same lines that even he seems tired of saying. "Claire, there are some things you don't understand-

There is no use playing the game anymore! Doesn't he understand that? The charade is over! I know his secret now and he probably isn't far off from putting together the pieces of mine. Even now he won't be straightforward with me.

"Well, tell me! Make me understand!" I loudly shout at him as we near the end of the block. My eyes narrow and I whirl upon him. "Why should I listen to anything you have to say anyways?" I search his face for some sign, but his face is like a blank canvas. Beyond frustrated, I storm ahead, knowing that he is too much of a damn, hesitant, wavering, lying, gentleman to grab a hold of me, or actually spit out the truth even now.

Edward's POV:

Today will be a day of many firsts for me. I don't know what to say. Knowing I had just said the wrong thing didn't give me a boost of confidence to try again and foul up the situation even worse. I allowed my face to go blank, masking the emotion that welled up inside me. I know I have to act, but all my options leave me even lower in the good graces of Claire. Of course, doing nothing would result in an even worse situation which is certainly not an option.

I had tried lesser reasons for her not go around the corner, but they don't with stand and uttering them to her is no longer convincing. She knows me too well. I cannot tell her why I know she mustn't go around the bend because if I do then the last secret I have will be revealed. For the safety of both my family and her, she is not supposed to know any of this. It is what has been ground into my head and those like me since the beginning of our second lives. We've been told it is for the best and at one time those reasons were quite convincing, even crucial.

But now, I'm not so sure. I cannot confidently say that I am convinced. Like she knows me, I know her, but the only difference is that I have an advantage that lets me observe and thus learn more about her than any other person could in a normal interaction. It is this advantage that allowed me to see who she is running from, know when it was safe to leave the alley, and locate the blonde haired woman and the dark skinned man through the eyes of passer-bys on the next street over, waiting for Claire.

I'm jogging backwards ahead of her, watching her face as she resolutely looks right through me towards her destination. Her words echo in my head. Why should she believe me? I'm a vampire! She was just attacked by one! What could I possibly say that could convince her to put her trust in me?

Just like she thought, I won't grab her unless it is my only option. Even under normal circumstances this action would not go over well, and after everything that has just happened, I might strip off the remaining shock and pierce the bravado that propels her on where another person might have already broken down.

I don't want to see her that way. I want to erase the fear that prevents her from living her life the way she would choose. I want to see that genuine smile again, the one that reaches her eyes, animating them with a light that only hints at what goes on behind them. With a peace, I want those eyes to be able to look at me in a mutual understanding, sharing secrets between us that the outside world could never possibly understand, meant only for us. I want us, but most of all, I want her happiness, and that comes with a price, if only she is willing to listen. After she knows what I am, would she be willing to take the same leap once more that she once extended to me? Could I dare to even hope?

I know what I have to say. Rarely used outside of my family, it is a different tactic for me, the person who is so used to riddles and half truths. Even still, when the words form in my mind and slip onto my tongue, I feel a certain rightness. For all the good it'll do, at least it's the truth.

I'm the first to emerge from around the corner as I'm in front of her. We'd both be openly visible to her pursuers now if I didn't maneuver my body to block her from their view. As she tries to move around me and I continue to block her attempts, it becomes apparent that this arrangement is going to be temporary.

"Claire," I plead for her eyes to focus on me, giving me a chance. Maybe it is the tone of my voice, but she does look to me briefly and then away again, searching around me, looking for a way out. But I saw it and her mind confirms it, though there is uncertainty, there also is a tinge of what she feels is unwarranted expectation. It is now or never.

"I care for you." My voice goes softer for a moment. I chide myself, no, that isn't quite right. It is more than that, and it has been a long time in coming to get me to acknowledge it. I know now why it is different with Claire than it has been with anyone else. My voice grows stronger with conviction. "Claire, I love-

I'm unable to finish my declaration.

Claire's body goes rigid, but not from my words. She whispers, looking around me into the spider's web.

"They're here."

Claire's POV:

Edward was saying something to me, but I forgot to pay attention, my eyes locking onto a blonde head and the dark shadowy man that trails unnaturally at her side.

Unknowing to Elle and the Haitian, they stand only a few yards away from my truck and at least triple that distance away from Edward and I. Dread pools in my stomach and settles in my feet like lead. Indecision gnaws at me, tearing me between sneaking to my car, hoping that I'll make it before they catch on; or running away for now and doubling back later.

From Edward's side, I assess the situation. Elle's hands are on her hips. With a flushed face and eyes on the hunt, her head snaps from side to side, overwhelmed as she tries to take in every movement in her vicinity as it happens around her, which, of course, is humanly impossible.

The Haitian, however, is motionless save for his eyes which move systematically over the crowd. It occurs to me that this must be how it is like to be on the other side of the playing field. That man who looked after me, once contradicted my father's orders and allowed me to keep my memory, he isn't in those eyes. After all, once a company man, always a company man. How foolish to expect better of people you thought might have been trustworthy.

As if he knew I was thinking about him, his eyes find me. Even though there is recognition in his eyes, he remains perfectly still, making no movement toward me. He doesn't even alert his partner, simply waiting for her to notice the direction of his gaze. When she sees me, that cocky smirk spreads over her face, and together with the Haitian, they start to stride against the tide of the crowd towards me.

Edward steps in front of my line of vision, a barrier between my pursuers and me. His hand lands on my shoulder, making me look up to see an abnormal crease on his forehead. "Let's go," He says with insistence in his voice. His eyes do not look at me to affirm my consent but instead, stays locked on the approaching pair. His hand firmly pushes me back to where we've come.

"But," I protest, grinding my heels into the cement. "My truck!" I know I can't just stay here but-

He gives no ground, his hand moving to capture my wrist. I'm outmatched in terms of strength. My feet move forward from the spot they were rooted to before. I may be a special, but I mustn't forget, Edward isn't even human. My choices are either to run or be dragged; or even more likely, be carried, and I certainly wasn't going to have any of that. Knowing it is futile, I stop resisting for the moment and start running beside him. Besides, I don't know about Edward right now, but I know who I would choose if it came down to my pursuers and him.

There is a flurry of people now coming from all directions. Some bustle past talking loudly on cell phones. Others nearly walk into us as they stare at displays in windows of now closed stores. A few bury their hands in their pockets and tilt their heads down, eyes to the ground. The most Edward and I receive are a couple of disinterested stares since apparently, a really pale guy running with a disheveled blonde girl dwarfed in an oversized coat is not all that abnormal enough to warrant prolonged looks.

Even though Edward no longer has to pull me to get me to move, the grip his hand has on my wrist doesn't lessen. He guides me through the sea of people with ease, weaving in and out gracefully with me stumbling behind as I try to keep up. His movements never hesitate, so swift they seem instinctual. I look over my shoulder to my frustrated pursuers who are shoving people out of their way in an attempt to get to me.

We're at his Volvo again and Edward attempts to usher me into the passenger seat. I'm flipping through various emotions like Lyle does with TV channels when he's indecisive. Even though I have a pair of agents hot at my heels, have recently been attacked by a vampire, and now just found out my supposed friend is also a vampire, at the moment, I'm irked, feeling rather stubborn. I latch onto this familiar feeling, one I've come to associate with Edward. Before he can shut the door I stop him, knowing that this action isn't simply me being dramatic even though I'm trying to ward off a break down; I actually have a valid concern.

"My truck," I say pointedly. "I can't just leave it here. It is going to get towed or worse." And really, there is an off chance that they might figure out it is mine. If they do, maybe they can use it to track me back to Forks…

Edward has this tired patience about him. "Did you leave any personal belongings in it?" He asks.

I feel my back pocket. Somehow, my wallet with my fake ID is still there. "No," I reply. So does this mean I might be able to get my truck back if-

A wind blows suddenly, making my hair go into my squinted eyes. When I open them, I find that my door is shut. "Edward?" I look over my shoulder through the back window. Elle and the Haitian are about to break through the last of the crowd and run down the quiet street we're parked on.

Confused and slightly panicked, I jump in my seat when the driver's side door is opened and quickly slammed shut. Edward is sitting in the seat next to me. He turns the key in the ignition, gunning the engine. As the car squeals down the street, leaving our pursuers behind, he throws an object at me before I can even open my mouth and demand an explanation. Reflexively, I catch this object; it is my license plate with the screws ripped right out. I gape for a few seconds as the world outside the car fades to a blur.

"W-what is this? What about my truck!" I exclaim with wide eyes staring at him as his eyes remain fixed on the road.

"I'll get it back for you later." He says gruffly, turning onto the highway. His eyes flick to the metal plate. "That was just a precaution."

I don't want to even think about how he plans on doing that. My truck is going to get towed for sure.

He must have misinterpreted the look I gave him because he attempts to reassure me. "Don't worry, nobody saw me." I don't say anything to that as I have no idea what to say. Silence falls on us, and Edward concentrates on the road.

The last of my energy has leaked away, making my limbs feel rubbery. The hand which still clutches the license plate trembles. My eyes ache from refusing to let out the twisted pent up emotions inside me, so I close them. Physically and mentally exhausted, I slump in my seat, letting my head rest against the car door side.

Softly, I whisper, "I want to go home," not knowing or even caring if I'm the only one who can hear the words I whisper. Instead of thinking of my house in Forks, my mind takes me back to my old house in Texas, the one I grew up in, which is now a pile of rubble.

A/N: Originally had the POV switches with out written titles. Due to reader feedback, I've edited this. I hope this adds and does not detract for anyone. Thanks For reading!

Have a great holiday season everyone! :)