A/N: So i got this out quicker than expected, i'm not sure if thats good or bad, but here it is - It's a bit dark and angsty. I don't own anything you recognise.

Big thank you to everyone who reviewed! Enjoy!

Supernova

Chapter 11: "And It's Always Little Things That To The Surface Brings, The Comfort In The Pain, The Fear Behind The Smile." – Oleander, Halo.

My fingers tapped an irregular rhythm across the desktop as the page in front of me loaded so slowly I was going to be grey by the time I got to read my inbox. I heard the creak as my aunt made her way across the landing. She knocked politely on the door and then opened it wide, walking fully into the room.

"Morning Alex," was her greeting as she took note of me awake and sat at the computer screen in my pyjamas. "You're up early."

Letting out a large yawn I nodded, twisting in my seat to face her. "Yeah, I couldn't sleep."

I watched as she bent over and lifted my jeans from the floor, folding them neatly and placing them on the end of my bed. "You were out late with Leah."

That was not the reason. Leah and I had gone up to Port Angeles for the evening to see a movie. We were safely home by 10:30pm because it sucked so we went for pizza instead. "Yeah, maybe that's it," I said for Diana's benefit.

There was a shrewd silence as my aunt crossed the room to stand behind me. "Do you want to talk about it? Is something bothering you?" My knee bounced under the desk in agitation. "Alex?"

"What is love?" I asked, frowning up at her. "I don't understand it."

Her face softened and she smiled compassionately down at me a hand reaching out to brush my hair from my face. "No one understands it, Alex."

"That's stupid."

"Then maybe that is what love is – stupid."

I grinned ruefully. "It does make people into morons."

She untangled a knot in my hair with gentle fingers, patient as always. "There wouldn't happen to be specific idiots you are referring to, would there?"

"Maybe," I evaded. I had been thinking about Bella and Edward all night. Trying desperately to unravel the mystery of their love. Was it pure, beautiful, strong? Was it selfish, hurtful, wrong? Was it true, everlasting, right?

And why did Bella love him? A vampire. Sure, he was a rich and had the looks of a god, but that can't be all that's needed for love. Not a love that drives you to change yourself so completely, irrevocably, to spend eternity with that person. There had to be something more. Had to be.

And, is it real love if you have to give up your humanity, your very essence?

"It can be selfish and hurtful," I said thinking of that night with Jacob after the wedding.

"Sometimes I wonder if there is anything more selfish than love; to want to keep one person for you alone, purely because they make you feel good, happy. Yet, when you look around there are so many ways to love someone that maybe when it becomes selfish it's because you chose to make it so."

I sighed. "What do you think it is? What makes you fall in love with someone?"

Dropping her fingers from my hair she rested her hand on my shoulder. The weight was grounding, reassuring. "My goodness. Couldn't you ask me what I thought about the death penalty, or poverty in the third world, or the war in Iraq? Something a little easier."

I chuckled. "Sorry. I guess it's a pretty complicated emotion."

"No," she shook her head, surprising me. "I think that is where we all go wrong. Love is the simplest emotion. Anger? Now that is complex. Joy? So many people search and search for it and never find it. Love? It finds us. Nothing simpler, it just happens, without provocation or warning, it just is."

"But why is it not always understandable? I get Mum and David, they fit, it works. She likes the safety and stability he provides, he likes her kindness and strength. They both love reading in the sunlight, gardening, eating seafood, and taking long walks through the countryside." I paused. "What about when it's darker, less obvious?"

Diana was silent for a while then, mulling over her thoughts before she let them out. "I think," she began, carefully. "No," she changed her mind and started again. "I suppose it's knowing all the bad things about another person, all the secrets they keep from everyone else, the darkness; and trusting them enough to share our own in return. To see the very worst of another and for it not to blemish our opinion but rather strengthen it, that must be love. When nothing is sharp enough to cut the ties between us. Does that make sense?"

"Yes… it does."

She straightened up. "Good. Was there anything else bothering you? The meaning of life?" I shook my head, grinning. "Well, then, you'd best get up and ready for work. The day won't wait for us."

In the afternoon I took the last bus to La Push. The air was warm and light; a breeze shifted the leaves of the trees so that they sounded as if a great many secrets were being spoken, hushed as whispers between lovers. At the fishery I felt my heart grow heavy with memories of the last time I came here, the last time I had wanted to know everything. Back then I didn't know what it was I was asking. Back then anger was guiding my hurried footsteps through the settlement. Back then a storm was rumbling on the horizon.

Now my steps were calm and I knew the path I was taking. Another emotion, one not so easily identified was leading me onwards. A feeling that swelled in my chest slowly, barely noticeable at first, and at times so strong it could drown me. It was not the swift and furious heat of anger, but a gentle simmering beneath the surface that never left, only grew more each day until I could no longer remember being without it.

I was not scared as I climbed the steps of the red house and rapped my fist against the door. Though, when Billy Black answered I did feel a prickling of nerves across my palms. His dark eyes smiled at me. Or at least I hoped they did because sometimes it was hard to tell with Billy.

"Good afternoon, Alexandra," he said in his rumbling voice like boulders shifting.

"Mr Black," I replied with my politest smile, thinking that the last time we met I ran from his son like he was the devil himself and that is not the best of impressions to leave someone with.

"Call me Billy, please," he amended. "I take it you're here to see Jacob?"

"Uh, yeah, is he around?" my eyes drifted past him into the hallway but there was no sign of the 6ft werewolf anywhere.

Billy rolled his chair back into the house and waved a hand for me to follow him. "He's out with the pack, but he should be back in a short while. Come and sit with me."

Now I was definitely nervous as I forced my knees to bend and stepped in, closing the door behind. I had never really spent a lot, or any, time around a guys parents. I mean what did I have to say to them other than: 'Yeah, we met at a party.' 'Yeah, I was totally drunk.' 'Sure, I think we used protection.' That kind of thing didn't go down too well.

Billy turned into the tiny sitting room and gestured for me to sit. I peered around the room as the silence spread on and my gaze lighted on a row of photographs haphazardly bunched on a coffee table. There was Jacob, and two pretty girls – sisters? It was taken at a beachside wedding, everyone smiling.

"Is she your daughter?" I asked, praying that it was and I hadn't just said something really idiotic.

He followed were I was pointing and nodded. "They both are. Rebecca and Rachel, Jacob's older sisters."

"Oh, where are they?" By the looks of it they had to be a few years older. Twins, maybe, because their ages seemed to be close.

"Rebecca is in Hawaii with her husband. He grew up over there. Becky wants to train to teach kids, she says, although she changes her mind every-time I speak to her so…" He shook his head as if a little exasperated with his offspring. "Rachel is at the university in Seattle. She's doing business-something-or-other. I can never remember the name. Loves it in the city, though, it's a different world."

"You worry about her?" I asked noting the concern that laced his tone.

He looked for a second more at the photo, and then turned to me with a grin. "What parent doesn't worry every second of every day about what their children are up to?"

I guess he was right. Was that an unbreakable love like Diana described, the love of a parent for their child? And what of the child? Can they love their parent all the time, no matter what wrongs may be done to them? Or seen by them?

It was at that timely moment that the back door swung open and we heard water from the tap in the kitchen gush into the sink. Billy rolled his eyes. "That'll be Jake."

Sure enough, not two seconds later the boy in question appeared in the doorway with sopping wet hair and a bemused smile. "Hey Alex!" Billy cleared his throat pointedly. "Hello Dad."

Satisfied the older man rolled out of the room and I heard his wheels squeaking down the hallway. "Nice to see you Alex!"

"The pack got problems?" I asked as Jacob brushed his hair back from his face and tied it with an elastic band.

"Nah," he dismissed my concern with a shrug and a grin, "just making sure the Cullen's guests all left safely."

"Oh."

Flopping down on the sofa next to me he slung his bare arm across my shoulders and pulled me (struggling) against him. I tried to push away and maintain my aloof dignity but he was way too strong for me and I'm not even sure he noticed I was fighting back. Eventually I gave up and slumped down with my head resting on his torso. I could hear the steady beating of his heart.

"Did you miss me?" He said, voice rumbling through his chest.

"No," I pouted.

"Oh yeah?" he sounded like he didn't believe me one little bit. "Then what are you doing sat on my sofa huh?"

"I happened to be passing." Jacob laughed, his chest bounced uncomfortably under me and I lifted my head to twist around and glare at him. "What's so funny, jerk?"

"Just passing?" he chuckled. "You just happened to get the bus all the way out to La Push after work and pass by my house on your spontaneous walk around the rez?"

"Perhaps you are not aware of this but spontaneous walks are very cathartic and I happen to love them – so there. Besides, what about a damp, sweaty, obnoxious, werewolf is there to miss?" Oh, boy, my mind just hit the gutter.

And, judging by the wolfish grin Jacob was giving me so had his. The heat rushed up my body with such a speed that it was a wonder I hadn't self-combusted. Heart thudding with such vigour against its cage I knew he had to be able to hear it. Dark, warm eyes stared down at me, waiting. It would be so easy to just tilt my chin up those few inches and press our lips together. I wanted to. I really, really wanted to. My tongue darted out to trace my lower lip with a mind of its own. His eyes flicked to watch the movement then back to my eyes, questioning.

No. Not yet. I turned away; my gaze falling back on the photograph perched on the table. Jacob groaned behind me and I felt the cushions shift as his head thumped back. To know all of a persons dark, that's what Diana had said, and that is what I had to know before this went any further. Right from the very first moment we met there was something more. He was never going to be just a one-night-stand. The ending was going to hurt, and part of myself was shying away from what it saw as inevitability. But it was like Molly had said, I had to take the leap and see where I landed. Maybe it would only end in more pain, maybe not. I would never know until I tried. No running, no hiding.

"Sorry," I apologised, feeling like he must think me a tease or completely skittish.

Two warm hands rubbed down my arms and wrapped around my middle, pressing my back tight to his chest. "What's bothering you?"

My breath in was deep, filling my lungs and for a moment I imagined the oxygen particles spreading out across my body, giving life. When I spoke I found my voice was hushed. Perhaps I was hoping that he would miss hear me. "I want to see you."

I don't think his mind had made the climb back out from the gutter because I felt him grin against my shoulder blade. "What part of me did you want to see, exactly?"

Taking his joined hands in mine I loosened their hold around my waist and I climbed to the side, kneeling up to face him, eye to eye. "The wolf," I said, and swallowed because my throat seemed to close up behind the words.

It took a few seconds for what I had said to sink in and I saw the exact moment it did. Fear. It rushed into those brown eyes so forcefully that he hadn't time to cover it. "Alex…" he breathed. "I… I…"

"Please, Jacob. I need to see you. All of you." I didn't want to sound like I was begging, and I think if he had denied me I would have accepted it without a fuss.

"If that's what you want," he agreed, still looking as if he would rather be removing his own eyeballs with a spoon.

I tried to smile but the muscles around my mouth wouldn't cooperate and I think it came out as more of a grimace. "It is."

Jacob's expression was carefully neutral. "You don't have to do anything you don't feel ready for. You don't have to ever… if you don't want to."

"I know," I breathed in and reaching across the short space between us I clasped his hand in mine. "This has to be done. I can't spend my whole life afraid… I don't want to be alone anymore."

Barely waiting for the end of my sentence Jacob swept forward and captured my lips with his. All the fear, the uncertainty of the moment was there in the meeting of our mouths. I felt like my chest was too small to hold my heart and lungs any longer. It wasn't more than the touching of his lips to mine and yet there was such strength, such a feeling of truth in it that my nerves calmed, and when we parted I smiled.

He grinned back, and it looked like the start of a blush stole up his neck. "Just in case," he said huskily for an explanation.

I understood what he meant. Just in case it's the only one. Just in case you run from me again. Just in case this is it.

I didn't want it to be over. I really hoped that it wouldn't be. But I couldn't promise. My nature was to run from such confrontations, and I felt then that maybe it always would be.

That wasn't what Jacob needed to hear. Instead I stood up and with my hand in his I said: "Bring it on, Jakey."

Sunlight danced through the leaves of the trees that bordered the Black's home. The afternoon air had cooled but it was still warm out, a light breeze brushing past my cheeks as I waited. The area around the back of the little red house was where Jacob had his garage/workshop. Trees enclosed it so that it was almost invisible to those passing by on the road, and if you went to the other side, facing the forest, you couldn't be seen. The perfect secluded spot. I was close enough to civilization to ease my nerves if everything went wrong. Jacob promised over and over that he would not hurt me, but I remembered Leah telling me it was hard to control at times. The hypochondriac in me kept repeating in my head that he could loose it and I would have no way of fighting him off.

A wolf. I didn't like wolves. Never had liked them ever since I was a child. I was a cat person through and through. Why couldn't he turn into a tiger or leopard? Why wolf?

I was chewing the inside of my lip wondering how much longer he was going to take, and whether he could take forever if I wished it enough. A small part of myself was proud that I had refused the presence of Leah. I was facing this myself without someone to lean on. This was my battle and I was determined to win this time.

Between the trunks of the shadowy trees I saw something shift and my breath caught tight. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe, Alex! Another movement caught my eye as I felt my knees tremble and forced a shuddering breath out. It's ok. It's only Jacob. Breathe. Why was he doing this? Freaking me out even more than I already was. I wanted him to hurry the fuck on with this so I could faint, or scream, or laugh, or whatever and have done with it. The waiting was killing me.

"Jacob," I tried to say sternly, but when it came out as a near whimper I decided not try again.

He was silent as he moved; it was only the sun catching on his eyes and fur that alerted me to his presence at all. Finally a muzzle materialized out of the gloom, followed quickly by two strangely familiar brown eyes set in russet fur. I was frozen as the giant wolf padded carefully into the small clearing and waited with cautious steps and uncertain eyes. Breathe. Breathe. Air in. Air out. He had been telling the truth, I knew it, but I didn't believe it until now. Not really. And even as I stood there facing the mythical creature I wondered if maybe I should be in an institution.

The wolf. Jacob. Lowered slowly to the ground, never taking that gaze from me. I watched, jaw slack, as he rolled over onto his back and his tongue lolled out to one side. A surprised laugh snuck up on me. Oh, my, god.

Coughing to clear my throat I finally found my voice. "Jacob?"

I jumped when the wolf yapped what I took to be a short affirmative. He flopped to his side, tilting his head back to watch me where I was stood glued to the spot. I couldn't take my eyes from the sight.

"Can I…" I choked on the last word and had to start again. "Can I touch you? Is that ok?"

Another yap accompanied by a nod was my answer. I didn't move. I was a little worried that if I did I would run. But the more I looked into his eyes the more I knew that there was nothing to fear here.

My feet stumbled a little as if they had been prepared for another course of action. Still reminding myself to breath I walked over. His face turned, as I got closer, tilting to the side in the most adorable way. Crouching down pushing past the resistance my knees were putting up I reached a trembling hand out. My fingers buried deep into the thick fur of his shoulder. He was softer than I had expected. And when I began to stroke along his side he let out a low, contented rumble.

"This is so weird." I was getting braver; I sat on the ground closer to him, needing to touch. "So, so weird."

Jacob seemed at ease to just let me run my hands through his fur and so I did until the sun began to sink behind the treetops. This was the most insane thing I had ever experienced, it was half dream, half nightmare, and completely amazing. Werewolves were real. So, vampires were real. It didn't fill me with terror any longer, more a twisting excitement, and that thrill from watching a really great horror movie. There were no blood or guts just a huge, soft, wolf who was practically purring.

Something came over me then as I leaned back into Jacob, letting his warmth seep in where the sun was leaving. It was a peace, a feeling of being exactly where I wanted to be at that moment. I had dismissed magic many years ago as a product of Disney but now I was wondering if it did exist. Not the kind with glittering spells and wands and witches, but the kind that comes from finding the thing you hadn't realised you were looking for. The magic from being with another person who doesn't make you afraid of the darkness inside, who fills you with their light, that indescribable feeling of truth.

My eyes fluttered shut, and I breathed Jacob in deep as I could. Then I spoke the words that I feared the most. "My father died." The rumbling stopped and I felt him shift underneath me, but my eyes remained closed, remembering what I had forbidden myself to recall. "He, uh, worked with peoples money. Investing it for them, I think, I never really found out what his job was, and it never mattered to me. I was eleven, Daddy's little girl. I loved him so much. Mum and me had always clashed, too similar, too fiery." I swallowed thickly, this was harder than I thought it would be.

"He worked in the city. Started to spend more and more time at the office or locked in his workroom at home. They argued a lot. I heard shouting and I would shove the headphones of my tape player on and turn it up until it hurt my ears. I could still hear them though. Dad had lost a lot of money. It wasn't his money and everyone was after him about it.

"I…" my voice caught in my throat, this was the hard part, this was walking the tightrope blindfolded and praying that someone would catch me if I fell. "His car was in the drive when I came home that day. I was annoyed because it meant I would have to keep quiet and I wanted to watch TV. Mum left me a note on the kitchen counter saying that she had an errand to run and she wouldn't be long.

"Music was playing from his office, classical, calming. He didn't normally have songs on while he worked, said it was distracting, so I thought that maybe he wasn't too busy. I went in. He was at his desk, cheek on the tabletop, slouched in his chair. He must have fallen asleep and with the boring music I could understand why. I wasn't strong enough to move him so I got the blanket from my room that my Granny had sewn and a pillow. Carefully I lifted his head, it was heavier than I expected, but I slipped the cushion under so that he had something soft to rest on and I tucked the blanket around him. He felt a little cold then like when he came in on an autumn night all red nosed and rosy cheeked. Only his nose wasn't red and neither were his cheeks.

"I left him up there. I was so pleased with myself for not waking him and making sure he was comfortable. I knew he would be glad of my thoughtfulness when he woke up. Downstairs I watched the TV with the sound so low I could barely here it.

"Mum came home full of bluster from some comment a lady at the check-out had made about her new hairstyle. I told her Dad was sleeping upstairs. She muttered about how he wasn't the only one working their arse off day in, day out, and that she'd like a nap every once in a while too. But she got dinner ready all the same.

"I was sat at the table waiting when she went upstairs to see if he was hungry. I had just sneaked a chip off of my plate when I heard the scream. For a second I thought she must know I hadn't waited for them, a mother's sixth sense. Then, as the sound reached into my chest and squeezed at my heart like vice I knew it was something more, something terrible. You just know it, instinctively. I can still hear my mother's cry. I'll never forget it -" I stopped abruptly. Could I finish this? After a moment I opened my eyes to the dusky evening. I was buried into Jacob's side and he had curled around me. My breath shook as I carried on; there was no turning back now.

"I ran up the stairs and into his room. Mum was curled on the floor with Dad's head cradled to her chest. The blanket I had wrapped around him was in a heap by his desk and some of his papers had scattered. She looked up at me with eyes like a lost child, red rimmed, full of tears. I was frozen. I didn't understand. He was sleeping, why was she so upset? I remember thinking that he was going to be mad at her for messing his work up when he woke. She told me to call the ambulance, and there was something in her voice that stopped me from arguing. Fear, maybe. I don't know, but I did as I was told. It was too late. He had been dead for hours, probably before I came home. Sleeping pills he took. They were on prescription from the doctor because he wasn't getting enough rest. But most of what was said in the days after I don't remember, I'm not sure I even heard anything."

My chest heaved with the effort it was taking to keep talking. I knew if I stopped now I would never finish it and I had to, I needed to with such desperation that it physically hurt. The monsters were out of the closet and I was facing them down. I would not hide away any more. "Mum sent me to counsellors because I wasn't talking to her. The thing was that she wasn't talking to me either, not about the things I really needed to hear. We just passed each other in the hallway and it was like 'oh, yeah, someone else is living here too'. She was fine; she started volunteering down at a friend's garden centre to get her out of the house, moving. That's where she met my stepfather David. He's a landscape designer, spends loads of time in garden centres, especially that particular one.

"The counsellors didn't help. But I found that alcohol did. Then I found that it was easier not get too close, because that's when it hurts the most…so I…" I choked on a sob as the tears rushed up full force. It was too much, I had said too much, it was just so easy with him like this and I could pretend that I was alone, that he wouldn't understand. But he would, he would understand it all. Blinking the moisture from my eyes I scrambled to my feet. I couldn't do this anymore. I needed to move; I needed to get away from here.

The wolf grunted sharply in protest as I stumbled away. Not daring to look back I rounded the trees and steadied myself on the wall of the garage. I carried on a second later, out to the road on shaky legs that didn't belong to me. Streetlamps began to glow in the growing dark. Silence had fallen over the seaside residence and my feet were impossibly loud against the pavement.

I had barely made it to the end of the street when two warm arms came around me, holding me from behind, refusing to let go as I tried to twist away from him, a rabbit caught in a trap. "Leave me!" I sobbed out, not caring how pathetic and how public it all was. "Just… please!"

"Shhh…" he hushed into my neck, breath warm against my cooling skin. "I'm not letting you go, Alex."

"Why?" I wailed, hands coming up to cover my eyes trying to hold the hysterics back. Trying to hide.

"Because," he said, turning me into his chest, "I don't want to. I really don't want to."

"Jacob…" I begged, not sure if I wanted him to stay or leave.

"It hurts more to be alone, Alex, you know that. I know that."

His hands were running up and down my back, soothing my shaking shoulders with steady strokes. "I'm not a nice person," I protested, "I'm mean, and selfish, and spiteful and I don't deserve to be comforted."

"No," he breathed into my hair, "no, you're not-"

"But I am!" I cried out suddenly fierce. How could he not know that? "I pick fights with my mother. I ignore my stepfather. I upset my brother and sisters. I skip school, I drink so much that sometimes I can't even remember what I did, and I sleep around. I'm a slut, that's what they all say and they're right. I am. And there is no excuse for it. None. You deserve better. God! Anyone would deserve better."

Jacob kept silent, letting it all pour out of me, his arms holding firm and showing no sign of releasing me from his grip. When I finished on a half sob, half hiccup he leaned back. Both hands came up and brushed the mess of hair back from my face and his thumbs lifted the moisture from my cheeks, just holding me there. He was looking at me in that way that scared me so much. Now I was more frightened of it than ever before because it had to be an illusion, a falsehood.

"It's not your fault your father died," he said, strong. "It was a horrible tragedy, but it was nothing to do with you, Alex. Do you understand?" I couldn't move. "Whatever you've done… it's done, the past. We all make mistakes – I know that better than anyone. No one is perfect and why would you want to be – it's boring. I promise you that no matter how many times you yell at me or call me names I'm going to keep coming back."

I felt a surge of emotion rising in me and I slumped down with the force of it like a rag doll. Jacob held me up as the sobs turned angry. "I hate him! I hate him! I hate him! Why was he so weak? Why couldn't he have loved us enough to stay?"

"I don't know," Jacob, breathed, "I really don't know."

I couldn't see through the tears and the pain kept coming in fresh waves, over and over again. "I hate her too!" I choked. "I hate them both! They were supposed to protect me! Love me always. Why couldn't they love me?"

"They love you, Alex – how could they not?"

"Then why did he leave me?"

Jacob had no answer. "You were so brave just now, " he said, pressing his lips to my temple. "You are stronger than your father, strong enough to fight, to keep living."

"Sometimes," I whispered into his chest, "she looks at me… as if she wishes I wasn't there, blame in her eyes. I should have known, I should have called the ambulance, and I should have saved him. I just put a fucking blanket over him! It's just so stupid!" Angry, bitter tears swept over me again. "And it's done now, I can never go back and change it. Never."

"He was gone before you got there. There was nothing you could have done to help him."

"I know that," I whimpered, "I do… I… I just wish… I wish she would look at me like she used to, like I was her little girl. Not like I'm tainting her perfect new family. The constant reminder of what she wants to forget. Not like everything would be so much better if I just left." I took a shaky breath in. "She hates me so much she sent me all the way across a bloody ocean…"

"…To me…" He squeezed tighter.

"She hasn't spoken to me once since I came. Not one stupid little phone call."

His hands cradled the back of my head against him. "Maybe she doesn't know how to talk to you."

I wrapped my arms around his waist, holding him closer. "I've pushed her away. Punished her and myself. Refused to let anything good happen to me… And it hurts, Jake, it won't heal."

"Let it go, honey. You need to let it all go."

"I can't. I've been holding on to it for so long, what if it's all I am? I don't know how to be without it. I can't."

"Yes you can. You can do anything." He sounded so certain. "And what you can't do, I will."

I believed him. As we stood in the light of the streetlamps, arms wrapped tight about the other I knew that this was more than just a fleeting summer crush. Our darkness had not been enough to cut the bond between us. This was something bigger and it was here whether I was ready for it or not. Diana was right:

"Love? It finds us. Nothing simpler, it just happens, without provocation or warning, it just is."

I was terrified at that moment of realisation. When all my previously held beliefs of life, love, the universe came crashing down in flames around me. Now I had to build new ones, rediscover the world with cautious steps, and it wasn't going to be easy. But then nothing ever was.