When I got home that afternoon, I pulled up the driveway and got out of the truck. For a while, I just stood there. I stared into the ether for a while. Then I just turned around and began running down my street.

I felt the burn in my calves as my feet gained purchase from the cracked pavement and compressed dirt beneath them.

I turned the corner towards town as my breathing picked up. I could feel the air rush through my nose and mouth and down through my lungs, inflating and deflating with rapid and efficient duty, saturating my blood with oxygen. My eyes stung a bit from the cool breeze and my chest began to feel spikes of pain as my lungs worked over time to pump the oxygen to my heart in abundance.

My hands chilled in the exposure to the moist breeze as my legs and my core began to heat with exertion of my sudden run. I don't know why I was running. And I even asked myself this while I was jogging through the main square in town. I didn't know why. I didn't care. I just kept going.

At some point my brain just sort of went into sleep mode. I didn't really think about anything. I just turned all my power into pushing my body forward. I wasn't really aware of the passage of time. I didn't know if I'd been running for ten minutes or an hour. Finally, though, I stopped. I came to the end of a road and was greeted by a tall chain-link fence, spun on the top with barbed wire.

I stopped and my brain re-engaged. After listening to the tell-tale sounds, I could quickly discern that I was outside the Quillayute State Airport. The small public airport owned by the town of Forks. Then, I must've sat down at some point, because I remember watching a small craft come in and one leave. I cast my gaze up to the sky and watched them take off and gain altitude until they turned to nothing but wispy white trails in my limited vision.

I think my sudden desire to run into the meaningless abyss was beginning to make more sense. If I allowed myself to think about it, I felt panicked. I felt like I was losing it all. I felt like a little kid again. I felt remarkably like I did in the months after my mother had died. After my mom was killed, I developed some pretty severe anxiety. I never wanted to go anywhere without Dad, Becca or Jake. School was a struggle for a while and I don't even remember half of the fourth grade. I was terrified of losing the rest of my family, of being all alone. When you're a kid and you are so dependent on the people around you, that's a big deal kind of thing.

After a while, it just sort of faded. It was still an issue from time to time. I couldn't hack doing a sleepover until my high school years and I still had bouts of anxiety or sadness. It had been so long since my mother had passed though, that I hadn't wanted to bring it up. I knew it would just make everyone feel terrible again. So I would just blame it on school stress or PMS and wait for it to pass.

I knew we didn't have the money to have me psyched and frankly, I didn't want to be telling my problems to someone who didn't get it. Sure, they were educated to medicate and talk to me, but they weren't going to get it. And how could they? I didn't blame them for that.

Now, I was a full-grown adult woman. I was fully capable of supporting myself in the real world. But that didn't stop the childhood anxiety from creeping its way into my head again. Jacob had run off because he was so upset about losing Bella. I had just watched Paul being carted off in Charlie Swan's cruiser. I wasn't a psychologist, but I'd be willing to bet I was having some kind of childhood flashback.

Great, I thought to myself as I rubbed my hands over my forehead. I hadn't felt that way in years. Honestly, moving off the reservation had helped a lot. There were just too many memories – good and bad. I didn't want it back; it was a terrible feeling. I thought I'd finally beat it.

The sun was beginning to set and I decided it was time to go home. I was glad I knew where I was, because I had all but blacked out on my way here. I had no idea I'd come so far out of town.

When I got back to my street I slowed, walking the dozen yards to my property. I reached over the back quarter panel of the truck and pulled out a few bags and proceeded up the front steps. I had been glancing down and hadn't noticed my father sitting in the doorway. He startled me and I jumped. "God, Dad… You scared the crap out of me."

"Rachel, where the heck have you been? You pulled up to the house hours ago?"

"I, uh… decided to go for a run?" He was giving me that soul penetrating father look. It was something he rarely did and therefore I was not very good at deflecting it.

"Before bringing the groceries in? Or even come into the house?" I nodded. "And where, pray tell, did you go."

"Um… I turned around at Quillayute State Airport," I gave my sort of answer.

Dad's eyes bugged with that one. "Rachel, that's an eight mile round trip. You ran eight miles?"

"I guess so," I shrugged and slid past him bringing the groceries to the kitchen.

I could here the pressure of his wheels against the floor as he followed me. "Charlie called me."

"Great," I said with absolutely no enthusiasm. He knew I probably didn't want to talk about Paul being arrested. "He wanted me to let you know not to worry."

I nodded and turned and began unpacking the food. "Rachel, are you all right?" My Dad asked me point blank. I froze in my place at the fridge. When had my father become this observant?

"I'm fine, Dad," I replied tersely, trying not to give anything away. I was being the strong one in the family, after all.

"Rachel?" he replied in kind; his let's-be-serious tone. I turned around to face him. "I know you get upset when these sorts of things happen…"

"What sorts of things, Dad?" I was not playing into this.

"When people you care about abruptly disappear or aren't around for a while."

"What?" I deadpanned. How did my Dad know about that? I never really talked about it with anybody. In the early days without Mom, I'd talked to Becca but after that I never mentioned it.

"Rachel," my Dad sighed with his all-knowing air. "You have been that way since you were a baby. You hated being alone. And ever since you were a kid. You get like this when… something happens."

His momentary pause let me know he knew exactly what he was talking about. He knew what happened to me when Mom died.

"How do you know?" I asked wide-eyed.

"Rach? Please, I'm your Dad. Don't you think I pick up on these things? You've always been much like me, though. You like to deal with things on your own terms. At some points, yes, I do regret not asking… but at the time, I thought better of it."

Oh my god. My Dad had known all along? "How long have you known?"

With that he shrugged. "A long time."

I didn't know if I was more shocked that my father had known all this time and never said anything or because he'd known and never done anything to help me. Truth be told, I couldn't hold it against him. I knew that if he ever said anything to me about it when I was younger I would have denied it. Because I denied there was anything wrong, even to myself. It wasn't until college – when I was away from home and the res – that I could look at it objectively and say I had a problem.

My dad was right. I didn't like sharing that kind of stuff with people. Especially when I wouldn't even share it with my own conscious mind. I was broken from my inner musings as I felt my Dad's hand on my own. "Just know you always have a support system here in La Push, Rachel. Many people here care for you. I don't want you to feel like you have to run away."

I bent down and wrapped my arms around my Dad's shoulders, hugging him tight. "I love you, Dad."

He seemed shocked by my gesture and I wondered what kind of bitch I had to be in order to blow my father's mind with a hug. "I love you, too, Rachel."

"I promise, I'm not leaving. I missed you and Jake too much last time." I slowly returned my arms to my side and stood upright. I smiled and remember the rest of the groceries in the car. Before I stepped out the door, Dad called my name.

"Yeah?"

"Next time you go for a spontaneous run across the county, let me know?"

A laughed rumbled from my throat. "Sure, Dad."

Rachel—

I would've much preferred talking with you in person, however it didn't seem worth waging a war for me to darken your doorstep. I believe that in text, perhaps, you'll allow me a degree more leeway in making my thoughts known than if I were to converse with you in person.

My purpose in writing this note – and I'm sure you would have intuited my motives without my being so blunt – is rather selfish. It pertains to your brother and my fiancée. At this point, Jacob's happiness is terribly important to Bella. There are many parts of her that even I have yet to see that care for him very deeply. His absence has troubled her greatly, as I don't doubt it has caused you and your father extreme sadness.

Just as Jacob's happiness is critical to Bella, Bella's happiness is critical to my own. Similarly, I am sure that your own brother's happiness is also quite important to you. For this reason, I ask you have some mercy upon the both of them. I know, through the mental connection all the wolves share, that you are not the biggest supporter of Bella and Jacob's relationship. I'm also not ignorant of the fact that you rather loathe me and my family. All this I grant you without argument – because I'm inclined to agree on a certain level.

The long and short of it is, I do sincerely implore you to tread lightly upon your brother's arrival back home, at least in regards to the impending wedding. It would be of the utmost pleasure for Bella to see Jacob just that one last time. None of us are unaware of the ties that must be severed upon Bella's transformation.

I wouldn't blame you in the slightest for storming back across town only to make me eat my own words. Rumor has it you already know where I live and have put my brother in his place. However, please consider that maybe we both have something to gain from this. Even though my motives are vaguely shrouded desires to keep Bella cheerful, I hope maybe you can find selfish motives in your brother's small bit of closure. That way, perhaps we can get through the coming weeks without making our loved ones terribly uncomfortable.

Edward Cullen

What kind of acid was I tripping on? I had the day off today and the least likely of all people had shown up on my doorstep. Okay, well the least likely of all people had written me a letter, hand delivered by the second least likely of people.

I was cleaning the oven – an act I found was necessary now that I made sporadic attempts to use the beast – when there was a polite knock on my door. I tossed the yellow rubber gloves in the sink and moved towards the door, opening before even checking.

The sight of Bella Swan standing there almost made me choke. I wasn't expecting it.

"Hi," she offered quietly. She met my eyes – which I found at first to be pretentious but I did at least respect her making eye contact and not faking bashfulness.

"Hi," I replied not moving from the doorway. I had no idea as to why she'd be here. I really didn't. Did she have no sense of self-preservation? She was not well-liked these days around La Push. Ever since Jake took off, even her most comfy of allies were a bit indifferent. Then she wound up here of all places?

She was either hard as nails or stupid.

"He's not here," I offered, somehow incapable of uttering Jake's name.

She nodded. "I know that," she cleared her throat slightly as her feet shuffled. I guess I made her nervous. "I actually wanted to talk to you."

"Me?" I cracked a grin with that one. Was she insane? She nodded frantically as she stared at the doorknob – her courage fading fast. "Let me get this straight – you trucked your ass all the way from Forks, through the DMZ, knowing full well that they're all but out for your head in this town – just to talk to me?"

She rocked back on her heels and chewed her bottom lip. If I didn't know she was a nervous girl, I would have thought she was strung out with all the fidgeting. That and her pale skin, gaunt frame and the dark circles made her look like she was starting to nurse an illegal habit. She was lucky her dad was chief of police.

"More or less," she acceded. "Yes. It's not quite as daring as you make it sound."

Well, jeez. If she made it all the way over here without getting shot or chased off the land, the least I can do is find out what she has to say to me. "C'mon in," I nodded my head over my shoulder and turned about. She followed me inside and she was so damn quiet. The only thing I could hear was the shuffling of her clothes. I cracked open the fridge and turned to offer her a drink. She really did look unhealthy. She wore a white t-shirt with another flannel button-up on top. Her trim jeans and Keds just emphasized her twiggy frame. She wasn't just slight, she looked sick, wan, tired.

"Want something to drink?" I offered after I realized I was staring. Bella didn't seem like the type to start some kind of chick fight, but who knows when she was bound to snap.

She just sort of wrinkled her brow and thought over my question like the answer was worth a million dollars. "It's not a trick question," I grinned. "I'm gonna have lemonade if that helps at all…"

"Lemonade sounds good," she spoke.

"Cool," I said, "Take a seat if you like." My natural harshness was wearing off, mostly because I was afraid the poor girl was going to burst into tears at any moment. I didn't like her, that doesn't mean I wanted to traumatize or terrorize her.

I poured out two glasses of lemonade and took a seat on the kitchen side of the island and Bella sat across from me. "So…" I began after a gulp of juice, "what brings you to our little part of the world? You got balls, kid. That's for sure."

"I didn't realize it was that bad," she mumbled to her hands.

I shrugged. "You scared the Beta off. I think everyone's mostly confused."

"Confused?" she repeated.

"Yeah. They just don't understand your reasoning. Why you went back to the ones that left you to die. You were doing so much better here."

"But, I—" she began, I'm sure, an attempt to defend her actions.

"Hey," I said holding up a hand. "You're an adult Bella, you can make your own choices for yourself. But actions have consequences…" I shrugged. "And now we're living through it."

She nodded and spoke after a moment of silence. "Well, I stopped by to deliver that," she indicated the letter opened at my side. "I don't know what it is, but Edward asked me to bring it specifically to you. With the treaty and such," she waved her hand about, "he figured it would be easiest."

"He let you on the res? Actually asked you to come here? Doesn't sound like a leech to me…"

"I may or may not have convinced him to let me take it," she replied, her eyes never meeting mine.

"Even though you knew Jake wasn't here?"

"Yep. I just…" she trailed off, chewing her lip and thinking over her next words. "I miss it here. Even after I found out about the Pack, things here were just so… simple. It's hard to describe. It just felt comfortable. I wanted to visit."

"Well, if I said, 'you're always welcome here,' that wouldn't be entirely truthful given recent history. However, you're hardly banned from the res, either."

Reining in my normally unbridled hatred for the girl was a bit difficult. Part of me just wanted to ream her out, to let her have it. Clearly, she'd gone through her whole life with everyone tip toeing around her, trying not to upset her. Sometimes people just needed the cold hard truth. But I knew Jake wouldn't want me to be mean to her. Even knowing what she'd just done to my little brother, he still cared about her and he would want me to treat her with respect. I would honor that.

I would also very begrudgingly admit that Edward might have had a point. These coming weeks were not going to be easy. They were going to be downright painful. And despite how much a good verbal dope slap would be good for either Bella or my brother, it just wasn't the time. It was probably too late. Now it was time to move on and try to make the break as clean as possible. Edward and his family, and the Pack and Billy and I now all got to facilitate this new chapter in our diplomatic relations. Who would have thought?

So, I would take Edward up on his offer. I would tread upon this situation with more grace, tact and diplomacy than I ever employed. For my brother's sake. Bella be damned.

"It's rough, now, Bella. But Jake will be back and you'll have your opportunity to make amends if that's what you want. All I ask is that you figure out what you want, and you make it perfectly clear. I don't want anymore miscommunications where Jake is concerned."

"Me neither. I just wish none of this had happened." Now she really looked like she was going to cry. Although it was hard to tell considering she hadn't made eye contact with me once since she sat down.

"Well, living in the past is useless. Nothing we can do about it. All that's left is to do what we can with the time given us. You're on borrowed time," I indicated significantly. She understood my meaning; her being turned would wreak an incredible amount of havoc her on the res and in the Pack. "Use it well. Because afterwards… there are no guarantees."

"I'm sorry," she blurted out. "For all of this. It's such a mess and I could've handled it all so differently. It makes me so sick to know how much I've upset things. With Jake, with your family, the Pack everyone. I feel so stupid..."

I sat there in a mild state of shock. Bella Swan had just apologized to me for turning life on the res upside down? More or less? Granted, it was clear she was doing this because it was eating at her own conscience, but she'd done it nonetheless. I wanted to hate her - and I mostly did - but I had to give her some credit. No, I didn't.

She opened her mouth to continue when there was a pounding up my back stairs. "Rachel? Could you do me a wicked favor? I need—" Jared came stomping through the hall and came to a sudden halt when he saw Bella at my table. He just kind of stared at her in shock and maybe stunned surprise. Then came a face I recognized, one I wanted to unleash on her. He was going to start yelling really soon.

Bella sprung up from her seat and darted out the door, quicker than I suspected her frail form possible of. "Wait here," I put a hand on Jared's shoulder willing him to stay and not leave before I could explain or he did something stupid. I followed Bella out of the house and caught her just before she jumped in her arcane Chevy. "Bella!" she turned quickly to me, her eyes and cheeks shining with tears. "Look, I know we're far from being on friendly terms, but just know that this," I indicated the ground beneath me, "is always an option for you. If you change your mind… again… never feel like you can't come back here."

She nodded tightly and slammed the door on her truck before turning back down the road into Forks.

"What the hell was that about?" Jared asked when I returned.

"Search me," I shrugged picking up the two empty glasses on the table and bringing them to the sink. "She showed up here out of nowhere. Said she missed it."

"And you invited her in?" he looked at me like I was crazy.

"What was I supposed to do?" I retorted hopping up on the counter. "Slam the door in her face?"

"Duh!" he shouted at me like that was the obvious solution.

"Jared, Jake still cares about her. As much as that bothers me, it's true. It bugs me when he rags on Paul; I can't be a total bitch to Bella."

"Okay," he shook his head and rubbed his eyes, changing the course of conversation. Lord knew any of us could argue about that topic for days, but what was the point? "I won't tell Paul you compared him to Bella if you take a look at my mom's hot water heater. It's acting up and I can't afford a plumber."

"Of course. Does tomorrow work for her?"

"You are an angel with a tool belt, Rachel Black."

"Anything I can do to help."