Chapter Eight: One Girl Army

'She is strong but never silent,
Sure of where her strength comes from.
One day, one girl army will overcome.'

Five Iron Frenzy - One Girl Army

Entering the house, Jasper glanced around. An odd sense that no one else was home overwhelmed him. Before he had shut the door to the garage the phone began to ring. Shutting the door quietly he ran to the phone, answering it a split second later. He had went out hunting after dropping Lucy at her house, and had spent nearly six hours in the wilderness.

"Hello?" Jasper answered curiously.

"Jasper? You're still there?" It was Alice. He frowned, not quite wanting to hear her tone after all that had happened. Her vision had come months in advance, yet it still hadn't helped the sting when it had happened.

"Yes, I am still here. Should I be gone?" Jasper was slightly confused at hearing her speak. He had made no plans to go anywhere.

"I had a very strange vision about you." Alice said in a hurried tone. "It was like no vision I have ever had."

"What happened?" Jasper asked, intrigued to know what she had seen; she sounded almost worried.

"You were human; you never became a vampire, and you were married to Lucy. It was almost as though I was seeing the past, as it would have been. What is going on, Jasper?" Alice asked, demanding information of him. He pursed his lips as his brows puckered in thought. Alice's premonitions were generally made when someone had made up their mind, though there was no way for her to see the past, and there was most definitely no way for him to go back in time and avoid being bitten. It was something that nearly all of them had dreamt of.

"I have no idea, Alice. Though that is impossible." Jasper said darkly; he was interested to know how she had gotten a vision like that. She seemed very upset over it.

"I know; I just had to make sure you weren't gone. I should go. Be safe, Jazz." Alice said, her bright soprano tone returning before she hung up the phone. The past few months had been nothing short of uncomfortable and awkward between he and Alice, and hearing her nearly concerned tone did little to settle his foul mood towards her.

New Orleans. The city of Jazz, of beautiful historic architecture; often referred to as one of the most unique cities in all of the United States. Yet, as the hooded figure of Lucy stepped out from her cab towards the graveyard, it seemed more befitting to call it the rainiest, most muggy city in all of the United States. It wasn't necessarily a storm, per se. Dark grey clouds hung ominously in the sky, though an optimistic peak of bright sunlight would occasionally peek through in a place, sending a bushel of rainbows down on to the beautiful city. Her cabby refused to go within a block of the graveyard, claiming that it was cursed, though apart from that little fact, her trip had been quite amiable.

A soft squish beneath her sneakers let her know that she had left the sidewalk outside, and was now officially within the large home of thousands of souls. One of the most heavily occupied over ground cemeteries in all of the country. The water levels were so high in the city that had they not buried bodies above ground, they would have washed up anyway. A slight shudder went through her body at the prospect of watching a decaying body float past her in drain water. It wasn't that she was afraid of cemeteries, rather they creeped her out. They made her feel uneasy. She had spent a year or so in New Orleans with Marietta and Madam Leveau (along with all of her daughters), and while it was an enjoyable experience, it had been quite eye-opening, and frightful. She saw things that she was certain no other person would have willingly watched; things that made the worst of nightmares look docile, that made the idea of vampires entirely believable, and nearly preferable. Things that she wouldn't even allow herself to think of.

Her feet led the way; she had never been to St. Louis Cemetery number 1, yet it seemed almost as though she knew where she was going. The air was heavy, though she had a feeling it was not due to the muggy weather the city was experiencing. Within two minutes of wandering, the rain had all but died off, leaving large puddles on the ground. The bottom of her jeans were wet with dirt and gravel seemed to have stuck to them, turning them a nice dark brownish blue. With a frown she glanced up, finding that she stood directly in front of the crypt which she had sought out. Large, and white with a great deal of small trinkets placed around it, as well as large 'X's written all over it. She grimaced before pulling a small object from her bag.

"Madam Leveau, I seek answers. You are the only one that can answer me." Lucy knelt down, holding the small black doll she had brought with her. It wore a black dress, and had bright yellow turban. Around it's waist was a bright red ribbon. Lifting it to her lips she kissed the doll before she set it on the ground and propped it against the side of the mausoleum. She pulled a piece of red chalk from her pocket and wrote a modest sized X above the doll before tucking the chalk in to the ribbon on the doll.

"You really think she'll answer?" Lucy heard a man's voice scoffing. Glancing up as she stood she saw a tall, slender black man dressed in a sharp suit. He wore thin wire framed glasses atop his large nose.

"I know she will." Lucy said with a polite smile, glancing back to the mausoleum.

"That's what they all say, Young Miss. You don't want to get caught up in this Louisiana voodoo." He warned her, his tone was warm, and soft.

"I know her better than you would think, Sir. Though I do appreciate your concern." Lucy smiled back, nodding her head to him as he made his exit down another row of crypts. Folding her arms she turned back to the large white block in front of her. She would wait patiently.

"What do you seek, my child?" She heard a warm voice ask. It was as warm as honey on a hot summer day; like a blanket you would wrap around yourself on the coldest winter night. Lucy turned to her left to see the faint figure of a familiar black woman. She was taller than Lucy had remembered, though a large part of that was the turban on her head. For a brief moment she wondered if she should fear the transparent woman, though a surge of courage went through her when she reminded herself that this was what she had left abruptly for, this was what she had traveled hours to obtain.

"Why do I live so long? How do I heal others? Why has this gift been bestowed on me?" Lucy asked, her tone pleading as she approached the misty figure. The woman smiled with a slight laugh.

"You do not know?" The woman laughed, despite the airy quality that made it almost as though it were simply the wind whispering in her ear it was loud and warm.

"No." Lucy frowned, confused at the thought that she should have known. The mist turned and was walking away, so eagerly she followed.

"When you came to me, what did you come for?" The woman asked her softly.

"I came to search for Mrs. Whitlock's son, and to find Marietta's family." Lucy said clearly, remembering why they had went to New Orleans; She had not thought Jasper would be in New Orleans, though Marietta had been bought by her parents in New Orleans. As it had turned out, Marietta had been the younger sister to Madam Leveau.

"What of yourself? Did you seek anything?" The woman continued.

"Myself? No, not particularly." She responded curiously, perplexed as to how it all tied together. "I lost everyone in the war; I had no one to seek out, so I wanted to help them find those that mattered most to them."

"My child, you heal others, because you love." The woman laughed quietly, she spoke as though it had been obvious.

"I don't understand, nearly everyone loves." Lucy furrowed her brows together as the sun poked out of the clouds. The misty figure nearly disappeared in the light, though she could still see a faint outline.

"Not as you do; in all of my years, I had never seen a child so loving, and compassionate. You love others above yourself; strangers and thieves, women and men, animals and monsters. It is that selfless love that makes you a healer." The woman explained. While Lucy hadn't disagreed, it made little sense in her mind. She had never heard of someone being able to heal simply because they loved another. The woman seemed to sense her confusion and laughed once more.

"You are not normal, Lucy Merriweather. You never have been, nor will you ever be. You were born with a purpose in this world; you bring love and joy to those that would otherwise have none. You heal those which medicine cannot help, you are a natural healer; you have been blessed by God for your unconditional love." The woman explained calmly, smiling down at the girl in a haunting fashion. It was an odd thing, speaking with a ghost.

"But why do I live forever? Should I not have died at a normal age?" Lucy asked her, she supposed that her special 'gift' was not going to make much sense, though she was still confused as to why she had lived so long, even Madam Leveau, a well trained healer for her day, had died at the age of 79.

"I have seen your future, as it should have been." The woman said, almost a hint of sadness in her tone as she spoke. "Young Major Whitlock would have become a General; one of the most revered in the war. You would have been wed after the war, and had five beautiful children. You would have lived happily on a small farm up north; while he worked in the Military you would care for your family, and heal the others in the village. You both would have died of old age, very much in love with one another."

Lucy felt her stomach drop, the image played in her head, it was an image that in her childhood she had dreamt of; not necessarily being up north with the Yanks, but to marry for love, to not worry about her father's expectations for her... It was a perfect image, she could almost taste the sweet-tea in her mouth as she envisioned herself standing outside a modest porch, five small children running around the yard gleefully, a couple of neighbor children perhaps coming up to play.

"Elizabeth Whitlock, if you do not leave those poor boys alone I will have to give you a whippin.'" A short figure of a woman with dark curly hair said as she stood on the porch of a modest farm house. Besides a large apple tree a girl with curly blonde hair, and shining blue green eyes looked up innocently, her large pink cheeks with soft dimples betrayed her attempt at looking innocent as she grinned with giggles. Two smaller boys that looked nearly identical stood to the blonde girls waist, they had mops of curly black hair, and brown eyes brimming with tears.

"I told you to watch the boys, not hurt them. Come here Robby, Abe." The small dark haired woman said. She had high rounded cheeks, a soft pointed nose, and plump lips that were pursed at the small blonde girl, who must have been nearly 8 or 9. The two boys ran quickly to the woman, latching on to her legs as they buried their heads in her soft green dress. The blonde child approached sheepishly.

"I'm sorry, Ma. They were trying to climb the tree." Elizabeth said, her eyes on her small black patent shoes.

"Is that true, boys?" The woman frowned, pulling the two boys away from her sides to look at them.

"We just wanted to-" began one of the boys, his tone whining.

"Nonsense! To your room, you know not to do that without your father home." She said sharply, pushing the two towards the door in to the house. "Libby, go help Miss Marietta with dinner."

"Yes, mother." The blonde girl lowered her head once more, entering the house, her feet dragging.

"No dragging dirt in to the house, I spent all morning cleaning those floors, Miss." The mother said, folding her arms with a frown.

"Yes, mother." Libby said begrudgingly, lifting her feet theatrically as she made her way towards the kitchen.

"What are the boys to wait for me for?" A smooth voice came as a pair of arms wrapped around the small waist of the woman. She sighed with a smile, leaning against the man.

"They were trying to climb that tree again." She sighed, shaking her head as she turned to face him. Love was shining in both of their eyes.

"You go to hard on them, Lucy. They're just children." He told her softly, laying a tender kiss on her forehead as she leant against his chest quietly.

"They're our children, and I couldn't live with myself if any harm became of them." She said sadly in to his chest, determined against it.

Lucy felt tears filling her eyes as she could practically feel his warmth. She had names for her children, it was almost as though they had been stolen from her. She was robbed of the life she was supposed to have.

"I had seen him, knew that he had not died in the sense of being out of this world." The woman told her, breaking her from her thoughts. "If you were given the chance, would you go back to that life?"

The dreams all came to her, her mature face, the love in their eyes; the beautiful children that would grow up to be successful; her perfect family that she had always dreamt of having. Yet then, she would never have found Marietta's family; she would not have met anyone in her lifetime that she had helped, or had cured of some ailment; she would have died before many of the people whom she had briefly known were even born. The world as she knew it would have changed... but she would have lived happily, knowing love, and peace... unlike now, where she had spent over a hundred years wandering the world, fearful to grow close to anyone as she would outlive them. She wanted that life; more than anything in her entire life she wanted that life. It was her own personal fairy-tale... yet, like a pain in her heart, she was struck by how selfish it would seem. She would never help as many as she had, Marietta would die with her, her best friend, never to have found her family. She would have ruined Marietta's dream, so that she could have hers. She would have changed history.

"No." Lucy told her, almost begrudgingly. She wanted to say yes, she wanted to plead for a way to go back, but she couldn't. She couldn't change history, she couldn't ruin the lives of others for her own benefit.

"You contracted malaria, and you were dying when you arrived at my home with Marietta and Mrs. Whitlock." the nearly invisible figure of Madam Leveau spoke softly. Lucy couldn't help but grow more confused. She had known that she had been feeling slightly ill, though she hadn't thought of herself as dying. She had assumed it was a cold; perhaps something due to being fatigued due to her travels. "I saw great things for you, child. I saw that man in your future, and I could not let you die."

"You made me live forever?" Lucy choked out; it wasn't necessarily surprising to hear that she had seen Jasper in her future, as she had quite obviously run in to him again, yet the idea that she was living forever thanks to a voodoo queen in the nineteenth century gave her a slight feeling of unease.

"You would have lived longer than the average mortal. You are blessed with the ability to give, and sustain life. Yet you would have died; I could not let you die, without having known the man who could love you." The woman told her. Lucy looked at her figure, realizing that they had walked back to her crypt. In the shade the ghostly figure of the woman looked nearly solid. "I gave you a drink, that many of my people have believed to give immortality. It is a very difficult potion to make, though I knew that it belonged to you."

"But, I look like I'm 16, and he wants to kill me. He is a vampire." Lucy cried out, feeling much like a spoiled child that had gotten the wrong toy. She was being told that she was immortal, and had been created that way to heal people, and to find love; and she could do nothing but complain.

"He cannot harm you, my child. One of their kind shall soon approach, if you wish to see what will happen upon being bitten. Perhaps it will solve many of your problems, and fears." The woman smiled. Lucy frowned, she wanted to ask more questions, though before she could say anything, the misty figure disappeared. It was early morning, 11 or noon at latest; She had been wandering the cemetery for nearly three hours, though it seemed no more than thirty minutes had passed. She didn't want to be bit by a vampire, yet her curiosity often won over her fears. She had little time to leave, however. Once she turned, she met with the broad grin of a man with chalky brown skin. He was tall, and handsome. His eyes a darker red than she had witnessed before. He was undeniably handsome, yet he was easily the most fearful thing she had ever seen.

"My, My, My. What a delectable specimen you are." He spoke softly, his tone musical, and taunting as he walked around her. "Praying to Marie Leveau for guidance? Perhaps a new pair of shoes, or to help with your boy troubles."

"No." Lucy said, though her voice was choked in her throat. She had never been good in fearful situations. Her 'fight or flight' instinct was nonexistent; when presented with a frightful situation, she froze. Her mind went blank, and she could do nothing but stare wide-eyed. The man seemed to find her fear amusing, chuckling lightly at her.

"This won't hurt too bad." He laughed. She wanted to run, he was going in for her neck. She cursed herself as she had kept Jasper's crisp, white jacket on. He took a step back.

"A vampire? What a pleasant surprise, that will make this much more enjoyable for me." He laughed, sniffing the jacket. She jumped as she felt a wave of nausea rush through her. A sharp pain coursed through her neck, shooting down her entire body. His strong, cold hand was pressed against her mouth to stop her from screaming. Everything blurred together in pain as she could feel blood flowing out of her neck and in to his cold lips. Her knees were going weak; it would only be a matter of moments before she passed out.

Then suddenly, she felt herself drop to the ground, the gravel digging in to the side of her face. He had dropped her as quickly as he had grasped on to her. Her eyes were still open, unfocused as she wondered why she was still conscious; why she had not died. The pain seemed to subside; she could feel her body trying to heal itself. The vampire was coughing, sputtering. She heard profanities as he walked about, as though in a drunken stupor.

"What are you?" He cursed loudly as he approached her, kicking her in the stomach. She felt a rib break painfully, though as quick as it had broke, it was healed. "This is unheard of! Why aren't you dying? Why do I feel ill!"

She couldn't answer as she choked out, though the sound of footsteps a couple of rows away caused the man to glance up before disappearing in a blur, just as the Cullens had. Pulling herself up she looked around; she felt sick; more sick than she could remember ever feeling. She felt the shallow indentations from gravel along the side of her face as she brushed it away, though within seconds they disappeared. Stumbling quietly she exited the cemetery, glancing up at the gate as she found herself on the sidewalk.

The bed had been far too comfortable, and her head far too heavy when Lucy stumbled in to her hotel room that afternoon. Food hadn't sat well in her stomach, and she felt as though she had contracted the flu. She hadn't been sick in over a century; she goes to New Orleans, and is suddenly sick as a dog. Her bed was a welcome change as she passed out. It wasn't that she had been in pain, but she felt heavy. As though a heavy weight was pressed against her entire body. She couldn't know how long she slept, but the sun was shining on her cheeks as a loud vibrating against the bed stand resonated throughout the bright room.

"Hello?" Lucy groggily held the phone, blinking her eyes as the light blinded her. She answered the phone, not knowing who would be calling her at what felt like an unreasonable hour.

"Luce? You're alive, aren't you?" Emmett. His tone was concerned, he was worried about her. "What is going on? Alice is having many very strange visions about you, and we've been trying to call you for two days."

"Oh." Lucy frowned, sitting up. She felt better than when she had returned to the hotel; all she needed was a very deep sleep. With a yawn she stretched out, catching her reflection in the mirror above a dresser. She choked, nearly dropping the phone. "I'm fine, just... strange."

"Strange?" Emmett asked; she could practically hear his frown. She approached the mirror, nearly forgetting that he was on the phone.

"I was bit in a cemetery while talking with the ghost of a 19th century voodoo queen." Lucy said, touching her face in the mirror, and then bringing her fingers to her face. She looked matured; her cheeks had hallowed out slightly, her skin smoother than before, though it held the same peachy glow as before, her cheeks tinged with pink. Her hair, despite being as curly as before, seemed much smoother and tamed.

"You were bit?" His tone was harsh, angered, shocked. A loud cacophony of sound from people in the background could be heard. She held the phone out, looking at herself in the mirror in awe. She quite obviously was not a vampire, though she had obviously changed; she had aged. She looked more mature, she could easily pass for being twenty, yet her skin and hair were much smoother than before.

"Lucy, what is going on? Are you all right?" Demanded an angry voice, she could tell who it was. Curiously she lifted the phone slowly to her ear.

"Jasper?" Her tone was instantly softer, as though she was unable to help the fact that she was surprised to hear his voice. She felt a smile on her lips; the images of what could have been rushed forward with the memory of what Madam Leveau had told her. She knew that they would run in to one another. She could feel her heart race with nervous anxiety and a hint of fear.

"Are you okay, Lucy?" Jasper asked after a few moments had passed. His voice sounded even more beautiful than she had remembered, she could feel her chest leaping in to her mouth; words didn't seem sufficient. She wanted to see him; she needed to see him.

"I think I'm losing my mind, Jazz." She said distantly as her mind swirled around thoughts of desperation, clinging wildly to any thought of the blonde man.

"Don't go-" He began, warning her of the impending doom of what would happen if she were to go outside as a newborn.

"I'm not a vampire." She said plainly, opening the blinds and seeing the hot, spring air. She could feel the humidity enveloping her like a blanket.

"What? But, how?" He was very clearly confused confused. He didn't understand how she had been bitten, yet was not a vampire. It made no sense, it should have been impossible; she should have either died, or become a vampire; yet nothing had happened... well, physically she had changed slightly, but she was not sharply pale, her eyes were the exact same, her cheeks had the same tint of rose, her lips still plumper than she liked; she wasn't much more graceful, her eyesight was as good as it ever had been. Glancing at the creepy man sitting on a balcony besides her, she did not thirst for his blood; she felt like rushing inside and never going out at the way he eyed her.

"What?" She asked, telling herself to ignore the creepy feeling as she went back in to her hotel room. "I'm fine, just feeling a little off. Nothing is wrong. I've got to go. I'll see you in school, or something."

Before he could respond, she hung the phone up. The small feelings of attraction that she had easily overlooked before seemed impossible to ignore anymore; the thoughts had been planted in to her mind. Her heart fluttered eagerly with hope; dreams of what could be. Her mind told her to ignore it, to avoid it; yet hope seemed to trample over any feeling of doubt she had. It was a very bad position to be in, there was room for failure from nearly every angle, yet she couldn't persuade herself not to want it, not to yearn for it. Over 100 years had passed, she had forsaken any form of attraction to another person, simply because it was irrational; they would die while she would live on... every time she allowed herself close enough so someone, they were killed off some how, she hadn't wanted to allow herself that pain, that hope... yet in a matter of minutes, or rather hours that felt like minutes, Madam Leveau had changed her entire resolve. She couldn't let herself get carried away with it; she would avoid him, and not get her hopes up. She would not let herself fall in love, she had a purpose in life; a selfless purpose that was far better than any romance could ever be. At least she would convince herself of that.

A/N: So this is the chapter that sort of explains what she is. It will be explained a little more later, in bits and pieces. But this is essentially it. I may go through and rewrite it later to see if it makes more sense, but this is what I had intended to put at the end of the last chapter. It's a bit shorter than most of my chapters, but the next one shouldn't take too long to write. Hopefully. Also, she is not infallible, and can die, we'll find out how later; blah blah blah. I'm rambling on. :D

Thanks for reading, I love getting your reviews, let me know what you think!