The recognizable features and characters in this story belong to S. Meyers. Original plot elements and whatnot, such as they are, belong to me.

Huge thanks are owed to my very kind story readers: little furry cannibals, Taoist Elf, WolvesCanEatMe, and bragi151. These folks provide me with valuable feedback and a whole lot of support that keeps me motivated to keep writing not just to get the story out, but to do it as well as I can.

As always, (Chef) Diamondheart has taken my strange phrasing and odd word choices and helped make it shine (it's always a little muddy to start). Please consider putting her on alert because she's writing again... when she's not going over my junk.

Please enjoy. Thanks.

Bella POV

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The sun was bright in my room when I first awoke, blinking my eyes to test the reality of my surroundings. I had the most vivid dream, if it could be called that; nightmares don't end with you feeling safe. Much of my dream had been so terrifying and strange, and so real, that there was no word to describe the intensity of it all.

Laurent. Why had he made an appearance in my head? Carlisle had convinced him to go to their acquaintances in Alaska, leaving his lifestyle behind for the one embraced by the Cullens. The dream Laurent had flashing red eyes and... My god the things he'd said.

I shuddered in bed and pulled my blanket up over my shoulders, the movement causing a dull shooting pain to extend from my scarred hand all the way up to my shoulder. I must have slept wrong again and rolled to take the pressure off the sore arm.

Wolves had come to my rescue, if that's what they were really doing. They came in the nick of time, and while I couldn't see what happened after Laurent ran, I heard the violence. One wolf emerged from the trees and acted so... human, guiding me home through the dark woods that I had created in my dream. It kept its distance and gave me directions with gestures and nods. I half expected it to start talking.

Well that would have been just silly, wouldn't it?

And of course it didn't nod when I asked it to confirm that I was dreaming. It was my mind after all, and you don't realize when you're dreaming, right?

After that, all I could recall was being surrounded by Jacob. Ever since that night on the porch I had been acutely aware of his personal aroma, a little spicy, a little piney, a man's smell; heightened by the warmth of his skin, which was almost a scent in itself.

I actually had an appetite, so I hauled myself from bed, setting my hand back in the pocket to relieve my aching shoulder. I washed up a little in the bathroom and gritted my teeth to get both arms in the air to fix my hair; a ponytail would just have to do. I looked at myself, resting my hands on the counter top.

I'd had a rough night. My eyes were a little bloodshot and my skin was dry and a touch rough. I started applying lotion, using just one hand and replacing the other in the pocket of... the sweatshirt.

A prickle of disbelief ran across my entire body and I broke out in a cold sweat. I looked down, my heart pounding. I was indeed wearing my oversized, ugly, gray sweatshirt with the big kangaroo pocket in the front. I don't sleep in sweatshirts.

I recalled wanting to clear my head and going outside, but I'd come back in, right? Maybe that was the jumping off point. My mind had fused these things into a coherent dream when I came back in, working with whatever I'd thrown to my subconscious.

I calmed down a little, laughing at myself for the ridiculousness of my original conclusion. Those days were over anyway, right? No more supernatural dealings for me, I'll take the simple and ordinary variety of nature from now on. I headed down the stairs to tell my dad good morning.

Charlie was reading the paper at the table, cup of coffee in hand. He looked tired but like himself as he scanned the pages of the Seattle paper he must have picked up at the diner. It was pretty late, nearly ten-thirty, and he'd probably given up on me making breakfast a couple hours ago. I started some toast for myself and poured myself a half-cup of coffee.

I heard chair legs scrape across the floor, and I looked over at my dad. "Good Morning," I said to his raised eyebrows. I didn't drink coffee, but the night dragging at my heels made it feel like a necessary evil, regardless of what it took to make it palatable.

My dad laughed at the now pale and syrupy contents of my mug when I sat and raised his mug to mine in a silly toast. "To adulthood," he teased. It was nice to see him more like himself this morning. We sat together at the table, him reading the paper and me munching my toast, without feeling the need to talk to fill the space. My night faded gently, and I decided that maybe coffee wasn't such a bad thing.

"So, Bells, what do you have planned for today?" I wasn't sure if he was serious; I had been able to do nothing since Jake got sick and Dad had not lifted the ban on me going anywhere alone. My friends at school had not called during the break, not that I expected them to. It wasn't fair to expect them to go out of their way when I had been a black hole for so long.

"Is this a trick question, or do you have something in mind?"

Charlie chuckled a little sadly. "I guess I'm asking if you would like to do something tonight." He set the paper down with a dry rustle. "There's a bonfire tonight, and they decided to sort of dedicate it in Harry's honor..."

My dad continued, something about the elders agreeing that the informal gathering was more fitting to the man Harry had been than a stuffy wake. In spite of my best intentions, my mind wandered; all I could think of was that maybe Jake would make an appearance, even if he still felt crappy. It had been four days, he had to be able to get out by now. He may not feel very good, but Billy would surely drag him out for an occasion honoring one of the elders and a close friend.

"What time?" I interrupted him.

"Uh, we'll go around five. Is that okay?" He didn't expect my quick answer, but smiled, probably knowing my motivations.

"Great! Should we take anything? I can always throw something together." I had barely known Harry, but I found myself anxious to make a gesture for my Dad's sake, not to mention Jake and Billy's.

"No, I hear most of La Push will come by and bring things." He fiddled with his coffee mug's faintly cracked handle and I stood to wash my dishes and pour him a refill. "And Bells, I have it on good authority that Jake is doing better and will be there tonight."

I nearly dropped the plate, jostling the crumbs and a smearing butter onto my clean shirt. My dad let out a genuine laugh and I suddenly didn't mind the mess, happily scrubbing the rest into the sink and running upstairs to find my phone, flinging the dishtowel into the corner of my room as I ran in.

My heart pounded as I held down the programmed button to dial his number. I had restrained myself from compulsive dialing while he had been sick, but if he was feeling better then I would burn up the airwaves between here and La Push.

"Hello?"

"Billy? It's Bella! I heard Jake is feeling better?" My words tumbled out wildly and without preamble.

"Yes Bella, Jake is feeling better." I could hear the smile in Billy's voice.

"Well, can I talk to him? He's still at home, right?" I bounced up and down. I am not generally inclined to bounce.

"Uh, Jake isn't in at the moment... he's busy with chores and some work he needs to get done. We've been sort of busy," Billy's voice grew soft and a little rough. "Since Harry passed so suddenly."

"Oh god, Billy. I'm so sorry. It was rude of me to call like this. Please just-"

Billy interrupted me. "There's nothing to apologize for, Bella. I'm glad you're thinking about Jake because he probably needs it. So, did your dad tell you about the bonfire tonight?"

I blushed, thankful to be having this discussion on the phone. "Yes, he did. Is there anything we can do or bring?"

"Naw. Just come over by five or six tonight. And Bella?"

I held my breath, hoping to hear him say it. "Yes, Billy?"

"Jake will be there. Just…remember what I told you; he cares about you very much, and you need to be strong for him."

I heard Billy move the phone away from his ear. "Wait! What do you mean? What happened?" I heard only a soft click and the drone of the dial tone. I sat staring at the phone, wondering what in the world could have possibly happened for Billy to say something like that.

I steeled myself for whatever I might see or hear, but frankly only caring that I would see Jacob again. I flung myself on my bed and allowed my mind to wander to our picnic, the kiss that turned my world upside down and all the beautiful things he said about love and what it really was.

I thought love was forever, a perfect jewel always shining, gleaming, unchanging and perfect. According to Jake, love could be a little dingy or chipped on the edges, and perhaps it should be. He thought perfect only looked good and was likely a little hollow if you looked closely. If only he knew just how right he was. I shivered just thinking about his touch and knew there was no way we would be alone tonight, even if he was strong enough to make it to the bonfire.

There was too much time between now and the evening and I needed to distract myself from the thoughts that were surely going to go unfulfilled for some time. My hand ran along my bookshelf seeking a suitable pastime and I grew annoyed with my selections. Somehow all the books I had adored and read until the spines were tattered just didn't suit my moods these days.

Knock knock

"Bella? You decent?" My dad was at the door.

"Yep, come on in." My door opened and my dad smirked at my pose: a book in each hand, clearly dissatisfied with my options.

"If you're looking to kill some time before the bonfire-" My dad knew me all too well. "Why don't you give your mother a call? I've talked to her more than you have the past few weeks and we're divorced. She misses you, kid."

It had been nearly two weeks since I spoke with her. Renee was a good person at heart, and had an odd perceptiveness that made her eerily in touch with the motivations and feeling of others. If a portion of that sensitivity had directed itself toward reality, my mother would be a far more reliable and capable person.

"Okay, dad. I will in a bit."

She wasn't a failure, but could never focus on just one thing for long. Her manic zeal for yoga had led to an accumulation of zen-inspired fashion and home decor; the addition of a bonsai tree in my room 'for focus' had been my last straw and I barred her entry after that. Not two months after the frenzy for potted bamboo and traipsing around in the trappings of a yoga instructor had begun, she switched her focus to classes in stained glass. Her yoga room transformed into a minefield of broken shards, raised grid mats, soldering irons and fragile sheets of color-whorled glass.

In short, a room I could not possibly enter.

I loved my mother, and she never wavered in her love of me, just in her… competence at times. Through it all she had, on some level, been lonely. As soon as I was old enough to comprehend this, I knew I was part of the reason why. She needed male companionship, but would never subject me to a strange man or force me to play the 'daddy' game.

Then she met Phil.

Phil made her happy and indulged her flighty nature, but was strong enough to keep her grounded. Even so, I had felt I should leave to give her time with Phil, and take the opportunity for some personal growth of my own. I felt stunted with her at times, like I had to constantly be on guard both for and against her. That was Phil's job now, not mine. I needed to become a person on my own without her shadow on me.

So, I came to Forks and its rain to live with my father. He was also a highly perceptive person, but unlike Renee, he was focused and deliberate. I know he had been a basic officer in Forks before becoming the chief, though what he did in between I couldn't say.

For a few years after their divorce my mother said they were both busy 'getting their space back' and I did not see him, though I was too young to remember. Thereafter I spent my summers here and in La Push with my dad and the Black family, who watched me while my dad worked.

I played with the twins while Jake tagged along, watched by Mrs. Black or another neighbor. There wasn't a need to supervise every move we made, we were old enough to not do anything too stupid, and since they were the Blacks, everyone knew who we were.

The time on my phone flipped another digital number and suddenly it was noon. Unless she had experienced another epiphany, my mother should have gotten home from her quilting class by now. Phil had only had to move out some sports equipment from his large trophy room to make room for her various racks and bolts of fabric. He was fortunate to have missed the Great Bleeding, as I referred to it, when we cleared out her glass to make way for baskets of sisal for making designer doormats.

I was delaying the inevitable, and dialed her number.

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Jacob POV

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It was finished, and I tied a knot in the braided leather at the end to make the other end of the rustic clasp. It was simple, perhaps crude even. It was a good thing it wasn't really for looks. The little wooden figure wasn't bad though, probably one of my better pieces. It would look much better if I had more time to really refine it, but I didn't so the goal had just been for a recognizable representation, not art.

It was after five in the morning and for the last hour of carving my eyes had crossed repeatedly, blurring my sight and causing me to jab the sharp tools repeatedly into my fingers. When I tied the knot to separate the items, my hands fumbled and I dropped it. Then it was a struggle just to slide the other piece onto the leather cord.

The important thing was that it was finished, and I could finally relax and let my eyes fall shut. I considered just laying my head down on the workbench and sleeping there, but the wood bits and sharp blades convinced me to drag myself to my room.

The bathroom mirror was a grim reminder of the previous night. I was still caked in blood and dirt, my face smeared and grimy and my shorts a mess, so I showered and collapsed into bed, not even bothering with dressing at all.

I dreamed of her. Flashes of her smile and eyes, her unsteady gait on soft sand, and her touch on my face and neck filled and passed through my mind. She could be mine. Her sweet laugh echoed in my ears, the breath of it tickling my skin and I slept the hardest I had since becoming the wolf.

…

I woke to a tapping on my door, and I grumbled at the interruption of my fantasy.

"Jake? You okay?"

"Yeah Dad. Fine. Just asleep." I cleared the night's grime from my voice and sat up.

Lovely. I had dreamt of Bella. A lot, apparently.

"I was just checking on you. Hungry?"

God yes. "I'll be out in a minute. I'm starved." I stripped my sheets and threw on clean shorts before going to the bathroom and cleaning up. By the time I was out, my dad had a breakfast ready and was starting on a second plateful for me.

I was a little woozy, having woken from the single longest and most… inspired block of sleep I'd had in days, but I felt great. The hearty meal made it even better. I felt like I had at least a little hope and something to look forward to. It was after one already, and I had things to do and plan.

"Jake, when you're done eating, I want you to go out back and clean up the mess."

My good mood evaporated as shame overcame me. I recalled what I had done and said the night before, and that there was physical proof of my reckless and stupid behavior. I still had to fix the hole in my wall, too.

"Yes, sir." I almost never called my dad 'sir', and when he heard it he wheeled around to me, placing his hand on my marked shoulder and pulling me to sit upright from the slouch I had fallen into.

"You have nothing to be ashamed of. You lost control and you did some stupid things, sure. But I doubt anyone else in that pack could have handled what you have over the last few days without doing the same or worse." He leaned back, releasing my arm.

"There's some spare bricks from when the house was built somewhere in the garage, and Paul is bringing by some mix for the mortar. You're cutting up those trees and stacking the wood until he gets here." He smiled sadly. "They'll make good fuel for the bonfire tonight."

I looked at him in surprise. "Bonfire?" Oh yes, it was Saturday. "I thought we'd cancel it because of Harry."

"If you'd paid any attention over the years, you would know that Harry wasn't a formal kind of guy. His will specified a cheap funeral to make sure no one tried to spend thousands on a useless box. He would want us to gather the way we always do, and just remember him. We'll sit around and tell stories and offer Sue our condolences if she's up to joining us." He paused and started to wheel away toward the living room. "I suspect Charlie will have a few good fishing stories to tell about Harry."

He was facing the television, so I couldn't see the expression on his face, but the slight change in his posture told me he was waiting for me. "Charlie will be there? And…?" I couldn't even form her name.

He turned his head to I could see a partial profile. "Yes, most likely." He said softly. I jumped up and ran outside to start cutting up the battered and splintered trees.

I had them nearly finished, record time, when Paul came around the corner of the house, carrying a plastic tub of grit and a small trowel. He said nothing, just setting the pail down and started picking out the broken bits of brick still embedded in the exterior of the house. I stacked the last of the wood and went to get a bucket for water and find a few bricks in my garage.

When I returned, Paul had removed all the broken brick and took the hammer and chisel I brought him to carve out some space for the new ones.

"Did Sam ask you to do it?" I kept my eyes focused on the task of sorting bricks.

Paul paused. He knew what I was asking.

"Not exactly." He handed the hammer back and used the pick to scrape a bit more. I just waited for him to continue, not wanting to force him to talk. He paused, still facing the wall. "I screwed up, and I needed to make it right. I took watch over her house that night." He scraped some more.

"You were there the whole time?"

"Almost. I had to leave once, and when I came back the fucking weird vamp had been back, so I stayed there the rest of the time after that." He dropped the pick and brushed out the dust from the hole with his hands.

"And you didn't tell anyone what you were doing? You just… did it?" My voice was carefully noncommittal, but I was impressed. The original pack had kept punishing hours on patrol; Paul must have longed for sleep even more than I had.

"Um, yeah. I think Sam knew, he just didn't say anything." A puff of dust flew out of the hole when he blew into it. He finally turned to face me. A crease between his eyebrows the only clue that he was nervous. I had to sort out how to respond to this.

I picked up the bucket and walked to the faucet on the side of the house. "So, you spent days watching over Bella because you felt like you needed to make up for Wednesday? For what you said?" I watched the water.

He scuffed a bare toe on the ground, nudging a shard of brick. "Yeah."

I turned off the water and looked up at him. "And you think this makes it right?" He stiffened and hardened his face, as if preparing for a blow, but made no response. I stood and walked over to him slowly, stopping just at arm's length. He watched me warily.

I extended my arm, palm up. He looked a little puzzled.

"It does, Paul. Thank you."

He didn't smile broadly when he took my hand, but it was the most earnest expression I'd ever seen on his face.

"Brothers?" He asked.

"Brothers." I confirmed. We released from the shake and he smirked.

"Good. Now keep those hugs to yourself, fag." He knelt down and dumped water into the mortar mix and started stirring with the trowel. "We may have to see each other butt naked but I don't want you rubbing your junk on me."

"Nice to see you too, Paul."

…

With Paul's help, the new bricks were set and tapped in snugly in a matter of minutes. He swiped his finger along the seams to seal the mortar and finish the look, flicking the rocky glob left on his finger toward me when he was done before he took off into the woods. I finished cleaning up, pleased at the results of the work and hoping I had atoned for my behavior.

I went back inside and saw that it was getting close to time for the bonfire. I walked down the hall to my room, and my dad called me over. From the doorway I could see that he was buttoning up a fresh shirt.

"All done out there?"

"Yeah. Paul helped out and we finished quicker than I thought." I tried to think of a clever way to ask my next question, but as he probably knew what I wanted to know, figured I might as well just get it out.

"When are Charlie and B-Bella supposed to be here?" I don't stutter.

My dad raised an eyebrow at me. "I told him to come to the bonfire around five or six. I don't think they're coming here first."

I was relieved. I didn't think I could face her head on just yet. There was just too much that had happened and too little time to process it. I was forbidden to tell her, but that didn't mean I couldn't give her a hint. There was no order against leaving a trail, just revealing the den.

I nodded, and went to the shower to get ready. All manner of hints and things I could say came to my mind, but I knew I had to keep it simple. Besides, Bella was smart. Even in her dreamlike shock the night before she had tried to reason out an explanation for what she saw and test it. Given her tendency to have nightmares and the pitiful state she had been in, I was sure that was what she thought the night was. There was no reason why she would think it was any different, right?

She had been completely out when I took her in the house and up the stairs. She didn't even rouse when I took off her…

Boots.

Shit.

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Bella POV

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The call to my mother left me drained as they usually did. She was an emotional and intellectual rollercoaster and when you spoke with her, you had to dip and curve with her thinking to stay on track.

Dad had apparently told her at some point about the change in the relationship between Jake and myself. She sounded enthusiastic but repeatedly warned me from getting tied down in anything. I had to hold back a snort because the implication was that my father had tied her down, and if anything she had tied him up. The house still had mementos of her that I would have thought my dad would have gotten rid of ago. Vinyl records that I was sure were never played since she left were still dust–free on his outdated media shelf.

She happily talked about traveling with Phil to his baseball games. His life as an up-and-coming minor-league player did not pay handsomely, but he occasionally stepped up to fill spots on benches for the major league team his farmed to, and apparently they pay well on a per-game basis. She liked sitting with the other wives and staying in nice hotels when they traveled to games, but admitted that she missed me and wanted to know when I would visit.

The idea of leaving Forks at the moment actually made me uncomfortable. I didn't want to leave, not even for a few days, and right now all I could think about was seeing Jake. I changed the subject with her and she gave a knowing 'uh-huh' and pressed me for details. She was persuasive, and I eventually told her about the picnic and bonfire, leaving out the part of the evening where we watched the sunset on the beach. When we finally said good-bye, my stomach rumbled and I headed to have a snack.

I was slicing some cheese when I noticed the time. It was already nearly four in the afternoon. I had spent close to three hours on the phone with my mother and still had to get ready for the bonfire. I wolfed down my crackers and cheese and dove through the shower. Heavier clouds had begun to roll in while I was on the phone and the darker skies made it seem later than it already was. I dressed carefully, hoping that maybe I could drop a layer if I got to have his arms around me, and made my hair look nice. It was shiny, and even if I looked over-tired from the series of rough nights, it was still a good feature.

Rough nights. That was an understatement. My mind drifted briefly over the vivid and intense vision of Laurent, of how the beads Irina had put in his hair clicked together reminding me of a rattlesnake I found once on my lawn chair back in Arizona. I had to beg a neighbor to come kill it. It's funny how your mind makes these little connections in your dreams.

"Bells? You ready to go?" Charlie called gently up the stairs. I left the mess I had made in my room searching for the right clothes for another time, laughing at myself for leaving a kitchen towel tossed on the floor over something. I grabbed my bag and joined Charlie at the door to lock up, and we drove together in his cruiser to La Push.

My dad was holding something back for the first few miles. I could tell because he kept opening and closing his mouth, sighing out the breath he'd planned to make words with. He finally struck forth.

"Billy called, while you were in the shower. He asked me the oddest question."

"Oh? What was that?" I squinted at the thin mist blurring the windshield before the wipers swept it away.

"He asked me if you were nervous today, or if you suddenly acted strange or afraid. Do you have any idea why he would ask that?"

My hair flipped into my mouth as my head jerked in response to his question. "No, I don't know. Well, I did have a bad dream last night. It was really vivid, but… that's not exactly news." I chewed my lip, trying to think of anything during the day that might have bothered me. "Mom may have driven me a little crazy, but I don't think that counts."

Charlie chuckled a bit before asking again. "So you didn't see or hear anything today that scared you? Strangers, bears, anything?" He kept his eyes on the road, but snuck glances at me from the corners of his eyes.

"No, nothing like that." Even in my own ears, my voice sounded unconvincing, but I truly couldn't think of what Billy might have meant; it wasn't as if he could know about my nightmare. Could he?

"Hmmm. Okay."

We pulled onto the gravel of the First Beach parking lot and left our raincoats behind, the mist having ended and skies becoming slightly lighter on our way. As we walked to the bonfire that was crackling with fresh and aromatic timber I saw Billy talking with neighbors and Old Quil nearby. Charlie and I grabbed a plate and drink and went to greet his old friend.

I stooped over first and saw the red rims on Billy's eyes and hugged him tightly. "I'm so sorry, Billy." He nodded his thanks and reached to shake my dad's hand. They clasped hands at first, and then Billy leaned up to meet my dad in a brief but brotherly embrace. They had lost their dearest friend. The three of them had shared fishing trips, births of their children, loss of spouses to death and divorce, and now the death of one of their own together. Only the two remained.

Tears sprang to my eyes and I forgot momentarily my own selfish reasons for being there that night. Dad pushed Billy to the spot next to the tall tree stump so my dad could sit with him. They spoke together, and my dad stood when this person or that joined them to talk and reminisce.

A familiar voice came from beside me. "Hey Bella."

"Hey Quil. How have you been?"

"All right, I guess. Have you seen Jake or Embry tonight?"

I gave a tired smile, "You know, I was going to ask you the same question. You haven't, have you?"

"No. I know they've been sick, but I haven't seen either now in days. Last time I saw Embry he was… well he looked like hell and he said he had a new job working with Sam."

"Sam? But I thought-"

"Honestly Bella, I don't know what to think anymore. Jake's been AWOL and his dad keeps telling me that I just missed him, whenever I come by. Embry is always busy, too. It's pissing me off, if something's up it's not fair to leave me in the dark like this, we've always done everything together." His voice cracked a little here and he gave a gulp, struggling to master his emotions. "I miss my friends and I've got a splitting headache to boot."

"C'mon, it can't be all bad." I wanted to cheer him up but something made me feel uneasy.

"Yes it is. And I swear to god, all my freaking shorts are missing. I'm gonna walk around to the cliffs and see if the guys are up there. Maybe I can find them, or just jump off. See ya." With that, Quil stalked off, more sullen and irritated than I'd ever seen him before. I was sort of glad to see him leave if that was all the help he was going to be.

I scanned the small groups of people hoping to catch a glimpse of Jake. A tall and muscular figure caught my attention, and I craned my neck to see him more clearly through the flickers of the fire to focus on where he stood. It wasn't Jake, but Embry. I was about to raise my good hand to wave at him, attempting to gain his attention when another tall man joined him and they spoke.

Sam. Embry was with Sam now.

I felt an odd, sick pang and wondered if Jake knew about that. I relaxed my arm and watched as Sam, a stern expression on his face, spoke to Embry, and Embry's face froze. He looked ashamed and left, acknowledging something Sam said and walking toward the trees. What was it with Sam's gang and hanging out in the woods? They couldn't possibly be up to any good.

Embry slipped into the trees, disappearing into the darkness many yards away from the beach area and the bonfire. When I returned my gaze to where he stood, it was my turn to feel self-conscious: Sam had been watching me as I had watched Embry. He didn't look angry, just a bit puzzled and curious. Sam nodded his head at me, and then followed the path Embry had taken.

What the hell?

I turned to where my dad and Billy were sitting and found them speaking quietly to Sue Clearwater, her children Seth and Leah standing quietly nearby and looking tense as they whispered to each other. Intending to offer my condolences to Leah, I began walking towards them and Seth's frame tightened and trembled. Leah began to whisper in his ear, clutching his arm, but he yanked it free and ran past the fire in the same direction Sam and Embry had gone.

I stared at Leah, who shrugged sadly and she walked to her mother and spoke in her ear before leaving as well. Sue had nodded and watched her daughter walk away, eyes glistening but cheeks dry. I could not imagine how hard things had been for her, a husband dead and her children clearly not well. Except…

Seth was larger than I remembered from the last few times Jake and I saw him in the chilly spring months. Seth liked hanging out with Jake, seeing him as the older brother he never had. I didn't really know Leah, since she never came to the bonfires really, and had exchanged no more than a dozen words with me over the last few months.

The sands further towards the water's edge were sparsely populated. I just wanted some space, so I told my dad and Billy I was going for a little walk and where I was going. My feet found a familiar path, nudging the scrubby brush on the edges of the trail with my slow steps.

I was halfway to my destination, the big log where Jake and I had enjoyed our picnic, the same place we had watched the sunset and explored each other. The faintest of rustles pricked at my ears and sent tingles along my scalp. I turned around, searching the shadowy underbrush with my eyes, but seeing nothing.

The orange glow from the bonfire illuminated the distant beach, its warm light caught on the wavelets moving towards the shore. I glanced around me, the dim gray light coming from the clouds gave just enough light to make out the path clearly, but blurred the shapes of the rocks, brush and small stands of trees here and there.

I shivered, unable to repress the evening's confusion that now mixed with the chill.

And then, there it was. I felt it. I felt him.

Warm air swirled around me, and I was afraid to move, afraid to break the spell.

"Jake?" There was no answer. I went to turn but when I did, the cold returned, and he was gone. Then I heard the faintest of whispers.

"Walk, Bella. Please."

I gasped, then let my breath out in a shaky exhale and walked towards the log that I could just make out in the dim light.

"Where are you? Why won't you let me see you, Jake?" I begged, but received no answer. I made my way carefully closer to the log, and tried to see down the trail that bent around further down the beach, disappearing around a curve. No one was there, and there was no one visible where I had come from. I looked at the bonfire again, wishing I had more light to see by.

"Bella." The voice came from the trail and when I spun round, I could make out his frame, moonlight on his hair and face. It was Jake, but not.

He was bigger, and though I couldn't see his face clearly in the distance, there were stronger angles that glinted in the cool light. I ached to hold him, and began to run, my feet slipping and sinking into the soft sand. I made it almost to the log when my left shoe sank to the side instead of down, and I dropped into the sand on my right knee.

"Jake!" I sobbed. "Why?" I reached over the log to help me pull my weight up, wincing with the movement in my sore arm. My hand touched bark, but something rolled under my grasp. I picked it up, my knee still sunk in the sand.

It was a leather cord bracelet with a piece of wood and a bead on it. It had become too dark to make out the exact shape of either, but I could feel cuts on the wood, reminding me of the craft Billy had once taught Jake. The bead was round and dark, and I could see nothing else. I raised my head to look around once more, heaving myself up as I turned.

I walked to the bend in the trail, sure that this was where he had gone. The brush was taller and denser here and I turned my face away to avoid scratches.

"Stop. Bella, please listen." His voice came from within the brush, but I couldn't tell exactly where.

"Anything Jake! Please, tell me what is going on!" I whimpered, tears of confusion and hurt rolling down my face.

"Please don't cry, Bells," His deep voice rumbled. "I swear I'm okay. Go back to the bonfire and take the bracelet with you. Go home with Charlie."

"You don't want me here? I- I don't understand!" I hiccuped the words as I held the leather cord tightly, afraid he was rejecting me.

"I always want you here Bells, I swear. Please, go home, and when you understand… when you really understand, open your window if you want to see me. I'll be there."

"Understand what? Help me, Jake!" My voice broke and I could feel his presence no longer. I sat down in the sand again and felt confused and alone. I heaved and sobbed. Why was he doing this? Did something bad happen while he was sick and Billy didn't tell me? I threw the bracelet on the ground and kicked at it, angry that somehow it had taken the place of the crushing hug I had expected tonight.

The moonlight-topped waves blurred and cleared as the tears formed and fell, wetting my shirt sleeves where I was resting my chin on my arms, knees pulled up to my chest. I calmed slowly, my breath coming smoother and jerking my body less. When the waves cleared and stayed that way, I allowed myself to think about what had happened.

He asked me not to cry, his voice had been comforting, but it was so different from the Jake I knew. My Jake would have tackled me and hugged me until my back popped from the pressure. This Jake was mysterious, hidden, and… a little nervous?

My foot was still half burying the bracelet, so I reached to dredge it from the sands. In the thin light filtered through a haze of cloud, I could see that there were indeed cuts on the wood, but without better light I could not see the shape. The bead was dark and round but didn't seem to have any carvings or marks on it. I heaved myself up from the sand, brushing it off my pants and wiggling my toes, feeling the grit between them.

I got back to the bonfire and saw that it was getting late, nearly nine-o-clock. My dad was standing by Billy, and when he saw me he folded me into a hug. His own eyes looked like he had shed a few tears but, unlike mine, his were born of bereavement. I shoved the bracelet in my pocket.

"Bells, it's getting late and they're going to do a ceremony. I think we ought to head home. You ready?" His voice was a touch rough again, but he looked relaxed.

"Yes, let's go. I'm pretty tired. Emotional night." My dad nodded in agreement and we headed to the car after saying goodbye to Billy, who gave me the strangest look as I stood back up after hugging him. It's like he was asking me a question with his eyes, the same look I saw on Sam's face earlier. I frowned a little and followed my dad back to the cruiser as the sound of drumming and singing carried into the night from the circle of people left around the fire.

He was quiet for almost the entire drive back to the house, only making a few brief comments about how strong Sue was and how the kids were holding up. Then, as we pulled into the driveway, he asked the question I had dreaded the whole way home.

"So, did you see Jake?" He was so non-chalant.

"For a few minutes, he couldn't stay long." It wasn't a lie, but I didn't feel like reliving it until I could get to my room alone.

"Hmm. He's okay?" I just nodded and got out of the car after he turned it off. We entered the house in silence and I went upstairs to shower as my dad settled into the recliner to unwind with some television.

A soon as I entered my room I pulled out the bracelet which had made an uncomfortable ridge in my pocket the whole way home. I set it on my desk to examine it. There was a little wooden carving; deep, bold cuts gave an impression of the figure rather than a detailed profile. It was a wolf. Quileute stories were full of wolf imagery and symbols, and it was a nice piece. A little rough on the edges, maybe, but it was much like Jacob in that respect.

The bead was odd. I couldn't tell what it was made out of, but the dull black sheen left smudges on my fingers. I shook my head, trying to grasp what Jake was telling me and tore my eyes away and to my window. My room, however, held my attention. The destruction I left in my wake as I got ready this afternoon was clouding my thinking, distracting me from clear thought.

I folded and put away the clothes, staring at the bracelet every time I walked by the desk. I was nearly done and I reached for the dishtowel I had tossed into the corner this morning. I dropped it like it had burned me when I saw what lie beneath.

Crusts of mud had dried and flaked off the rubber soles of my boots leaving a dirty halo around them. I remembered wearing boots the night before as I walked to clear my head but…

My heart pounded, crashing against my ribcage and painfully jolting its pulses in my head. Every nerve sizzled as I turned my head, the tingles coming back over my scalp as I saw the bracelet resting on my desk.

I picked it up by the center knot; the bead and wolf clicked together, the sound firing like a shot in my ears. I imagined many of those clicks together, slightly clearer and sharper, emitted from a crown of black coils… like snakes… rattlesnakes.

In my dream, red eyes had watched me, Laurent's eyes. I had stood and walked in mud, strayed from the driveway and met Laurent. Laurent who had warned me of the danger, but decided to have me for himself, sniffing the air and making the beads click together with the movement. My stomach began to turn.

Then they had come, chasing him away and disappearing into the woods. I was frozen with the fear that he would come back, but the fear of being chased was worse, so I stood there, shivering with cold and shock.

One of the wolves had guided me back. It was huge, its oddly gentle and soft dark eyes at the same level as mine when it sat. Didn't wolves have light brown or yellowish eyes? These were black in the yard light that illuminated the wolf as it stepped out just onto the gravel. All I remembered after that was feeling safe with Jake. I swore I could sense him touching me in my sleep.

Mud on the boots.

The driveway is gravel.

The discontent in my stomach bubbled up, sending me racing to the bathroom where I violently purged whatever was left of my small meal from the bonfire into the toilet. Cold sweat trickled down my face, into my eyes and off my nose as I heaved again and again.

I heard a crash from the living room and the rumble of footsteps on the stairs.

"Bells? Bella? Are you okay? Are you sick?" My dad was frantic and worried.

I spit again to clear my mouth before answering. "No dad, the potato salad tasted funny. I think I'll be okay."

"Are you sure? Can I bring you anything?"

"A glass of water, please."

I opened the door and sat on the floor, resting my head on my knees. I drank the water slowly and thanked him when I handed him back the glass.

"Are you sure you're okay, Bells?" He pushed my hair out of my face and felt my forehead. "Not getting that bug, are you?"

" Oh, I'm okay. I'll just take a shower and go to bed. Thanks dad."

"I'll be here, okay? If you need anything, just yell." He smiled weakly at me and left, closing the door.

I showered quickly, feeling as wrung out as my washcloth as I finished. I brushed my teeth and drank more water, cleaning far more conscientiously than usual.

I went back in my bedroom and wiped off the bead with a dirty t-shirt from my hamper.

It was ivory.

It was one of Laurent's beads.

I think I understand, Jacob… is this what you were telling me?

My heart thumped hard again. I could hear the beats in my ears as I walked to the window. It was just after eleven-o-clock now, and my dad would no doubt be in bed and asleep soon. I stood at the window, watching the darkness until I heard his door close.

I opened my window.

Within seconds I saw movement and a figure morphed out of the darkness and smiled up at me, his soft and gentle eyes black in the glow cast from the yard light.

...

Aaaaaaaand EXHALE.

Did it go like you thought?

Thanks so much for reading, and as always, reviews help me write. I adore your feedback.

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