A/N: This chapter and this whole story were written for my lovely theladyingrey42. Ahizelm did the awesome beta-job. Thanks to LyricalKris for the BNL song, it's perfect for this chapter. And I may have gotten a little rec on Twislash Unveiled today. Geez, it's hard to type when I'm dancing around the room…

A really big thank you to everyone who's reading this and pimping this and just making it a wonderful experience for me. :) Hugs for you all.

Now I'll stop rambling so you can get to the good stuff… For coolbreeze, Jasper for more than 100 words.

The Setting: Over the Pacific then Texas

The Music: Call and Answer, Barenaked Ladies; In My Life, the Beatles

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JPOV

If walking out the door seemed like torture to me, then it comes nowhere near the flight home. Every mile between Edward and me seems like another twist of the screw, another needle piercing my heart. The pain is indescribable. I have never felt this way before - not when leaving my family. Not when leaving Peter.

Peter.

What am I going to tell him?

I can't pretend nothing happened to me in Australia. I've changed. Edward changed me and I can never go back.

I no longer want the same things as Peter. I wonder if I ever did.

I try to sit back and relax in the cramped quarters, passing the many hours half-watching movies, half-dozing, mostly letting my mind race and never fully relaxing.

When I finally arrive in Houston, I stumble up the ramp and make my way toward baggage claim in a slight daze. Rose is waiting there by the carousel with wide arms and an infectious smile.

"Well, if it isn't the prodigal son, returned to the fold!" she greets me before squeezing me for all I'm worth.

I laugh and pick her up to swing her around. "It's good to see you too, Rosie."

When I set her down she takes one look at me and grabs my face between her hands. "What the hell, J? You look like death warmed over. And I don't mean that in a good way."

"Thanks..." I sigh and try not to let her candor get to me, but I know I must look like shit. I half-smile at her but she's still holding my cheeks, so it doesn't come out right. "I just need a nap and a shower and I'll be good as new," I offer.

She eyes me skeptically, but finally lets go and grabs my small backpack while I shoulder the larger one and my guitar. And, although she keeps giving me sideways glances, she talks non-stop about all I've missed in the last 3 weeks for the whole of the drive home.

"I'm so glad you came home first before going back to school, J." She smiles at me and then looks back through the windshield. "There's someone I want you to meet," she continues quickly, spitting out the words as fast as possible.

Uh oh. Not another Rosalie set up. She never thought Peter was good enough for me and would sneak in these boys for me to meet, often pretending they were her friends or boyfriends. She was just helping me "keep my options open" as she so delicately put it.

"I don't know, Rosie."

"No, no. He's not for you, I promise. He's mine. All mine." She blushes and I sit up a little straighter in my seat. Rose never blushes.

"Well, when you put it like that, how can I resist? I definitely want to meet the man that causes my Rosie to blush like a school-girl!"

This earns me a smack on the shoulder, but she's smiling and I can't help but smile back.

"So, how long are you staying this time?" she asks, innocently enough.

And just as quickly my happy bubble bursts.

Because when I leave, I'll have to tell Peter and that is one conversation I don't want to have no matter how necessary it is.

"Why the sudden change in moods? Aren't you going to see Peter?"

"Yeah," I mumble morosely, unable to keep my spirits high.

"Um...am I missing something?" she asks, concern slipping into her voice. "Didn't you always tell me he was your everything? Your forever?"

"Yeah, I did say that. But then..." I trail off, remembering the first time I saw Edward's eyes from across the room. Then she smacks me on the shoulder again.

"You little devil! You met someone!"

"Maybe," I hedge, but she looks so smug, smiling at me knowingly.

"I knew it! I knew something was different," she continues, nodding to herself. Suddenly her face falls and I watch as her brain catches up to the implications. "So, what are you doing with Peter then?"

"I don't know, Rosie. I mean, I haven't seen him in almost a month. I mean, I'd hate to do this..."

"No, J," she interrupts me. "There's no way you're putting this off. You need to use the pair you've got and break it off. Like now. It's going to suck, but you need to do it before you get wrapped back up in everything you had here."

I know she's right. I feel it in my bones and my head that she's right. My heart is still breaking, being torn in every possible direction. But there's still a large part that's just missing, and is still back in that hostel in Tasmania.

"Damn," I curse under my breath.

"Yeah." She drives in silence for a while, the only sound the pavement under the tires. "So, what are you going to do?"

"Bite the bullet, I guess," I concede. "I'm seeing him on Wednesday, promised him I'd drive over."

She reaches over and squeezes my hand. "It's for the best, you know."

"I know. But it doesn't make it any easier." She squeezes again and keeps her hand in mine for the rest of the drive.

Soon enough, we're pulling into the driveway in front of Momma's little white ranch-style house. Before I can even unbuckle, she's running down the porch steps and racing over to the car, her blonde hair flowing behind her.

"My boy is back!" she yells, while I open the door so she can fling herself into my arms. "I'm so glad you're home, baby. Let me look at you." She backs up and gives me the once over and I smile under her scrutiny. "My my. The outback sure agreed with you."

"I know, right?" Rose chimes in and I give her a bit of the stink eye. She smirks at me and hefts my bag over her shoulder.

"Hey! No, I've got that!" I try, but Rosie shushes me as Momma holds my arm.

"Already done, big brother." As she starts toward the house, I run in front of them and get the door.

Once inside, exhaustion pulls me like a lead weight. Momma insists I shower and take a nap and that she'll have dinner ready when I wake. I agree through my yawning and clean myself quickly before burrowing under the covers in my childhood bed. My last thoughts are of softness and down before I plunge into a dreamless sleep.

~~0~~

The rest of my time at home is wonderful. I finally meet Rose's boyfriend, Emmett, who is an easy-going, loud guy but seems to just get her. He doesn't put up with her bullshit and seems to be a perfect gentleman as well. I don't much care if I really like the guy, although I do in this case, as long as he treats my sister right.

And, from the look on Rose's face when he's around, I would say he's pulling that off.

Beyond that lively encounter, I spend the days enjoying Momma's cooking, relaxing on the porch with my guitar and just reveling in quiet time spent with my family. Rose often drops suggestive hints about my time in Australia and finishing my relationship with Peter, but luckily my mother doesn't catch on.

The entire time, I continuously check my email hoping for a small note from Edward. But there's nothing. My heart falls each time I open my browser to no new messages, but I try to keep an open mind. He may be traveling in the outback where internet service is harder to find. Or maybe he's just taking a break from technology for a while.

Or maybe he just doesn't want me.

By Tuesday morning, I am beyond frustrated with the whole situation, but I can no longer resist calling Peter. He answers on the first ring and enthusiastically welcomes me back. I cut him off, refusing to deal with the conflicting emotions wrestling in my head and heart. I make plans to see him the following night and quickly end the conversation.

I feel anxious and keyed-up after my talk with Peter, no matter how brief, and decide to play my guitar outside on the porch swing and just try to relax. Soon, Momma joins me, humming along with the music and watching the sun through the trees.

"You know, my boy," she interrupts my musings. "Keeping things inside never did anyone any good."

I smile because Momma always did know what was going on with us kids. She may have made mistakes in her youth, but she has never wavered in her love and devotion to us.

"Yes, Momma."

"Come on. Tell me what's wrong. I'm old and wise and I'm sure I can help."

I chuckle and lean over to kiss her cheek. "You are not old, Momma, but you may be able to help." I sigh and set my guitar to the side, leaning against the house.

"It's about Peter isn't it?" she asks softly.

"Yes," I answer quietly, not even questioning how she knows.

"You need to end things with that boy," she continues and she looks determinedly into my eyes.

"Wha-," I start, flustered by her blunt statement.

"He's holding you back, J. When I first saw you on Saturday, you looked like the man I once new, free and proud. And the longer you are with Peter, the more controlled you become, like he's holding you back. And that's not good for you, baby. It's not good for either of you."

I close my eyes and lean back in the swing, letting her words wash over me. Isn't that the same conclusion I had already come to? Why am I doubting myself?

I sigh because I know the reason.

Because I haven't heard from Edward. Because I have doubts about where I'm going. I open my eyes and my mother nods before leaning over and kissing my brow.

"This is the right thing to do, J."

~~0~~

It's Wednesday evening and I'm sitting beside Peter in a small coffee shop near his university. There are black and white photographs scattered on the walls, and I'm reminded of another cafe in another time with another man.

I know I have let Peter steer the conversation so far, but I am steeling myself for what I came here to say. As if he knows what's coming Peter casually reaches for my hands, grabbing them both and rubbing his thumbs along my knuckles.

I take a deep breath and plunge in. "Peter, we need to talk."

"That's never a good start," he laughs, taking back one of his hands to rub the back of his neck. He looks up at my face and abruptly stops laughing. "I knew it," he seethes, his mood instantly changing. "I knew I should have never let you go."

"It's not like that," I insist, trying to salvage our friendship, at least. "We've grown apart. We want different things. We're going in different directions." God, I even sound lame to myself. I think I just said every cliche breakup line ever used.

"But I've been there for you through everything. No one knows you like I do," he half-whines, looking desperately into my eyes.

My mind flashes to Edward and I know that's not true anymore. I pull my hand from his and lean back, trying to put some distance between us.

"You used to know me, but you want me to fit into this idea you have of me," I state firmly, realizing the truth of my words as well as the extent of Peter's control over me as I say them. "When was the last time I sang? Played my guitar?"

"But you didn't want to anymore," he replies with a small voice and I can almost hear the defeat in his voice.

"No, Peter. You didn't want me to," I explain, feeling even more like an idiot for putting myself in this situation. "And that was okay for a while, but not any longer."

"I can change, J. I need you," he begs, grasping for my hands, my face.

I cringe as I hear my father saying the same words to my mother time and time again. I know Peter didn't mean them that way, but I wonder if I may be preventing myself a similar fate. "No, you don't. You need someone to need you, and I don't anymore. I can stand on my own."

I rise, wanting to put some space between myself and Peter.

"No, J. Don't leave me. Not like this." His eyes are wide in disbelief and I need to get out of here before I cave. His sweet words always seem to turn sour and listening to them will only make things worse for both of us.

"Peter, I can't be with you. I still want to be friends, but I'll understand if you don't want to." I turn and start to walk out of the coffee shop before his angry words catch up to me.

"Fine, J. You just walk out of here," he yells as I continue walking, never turning back. "I never needed you anyway. You were just a cheap-" His words are cut off as the door closes behind me and I take a shuddering breath of fresh air. I have a moment of clarity, and an overwhelming need to drive back to Austin. There's nothing holding me here any longer, and I just want to be home for the brief time I have left before I move to New York.

I make it into my car before I break down, feeling completely and utterly alone. I pound on the steering wheel with my fist and let the hurt and sadness and anger pulse through me. And I realize, as I compose myself and begin the long drive back to Austin, that it's not because I walked away from Peter. The one person I want and need to talk to, to so desperately share this with, is only a wish and a hope in my life.

Edward has still not contacted me. And I fear it's all my fault. The guilt of leaving him with a small scrap of paper and my meager words is eating at me every minute since I walked away from him. We should have talked. We should have had more time together. I should have kissed him goodbye. I probably wouldn't email me either with all that was left unsaid and undone.

I sigh and try to keep my focus on the road in front of me, although my mind is constantly wandering, contemplating where the next step in my life will take me.

What do I do now when my rock is gone and my wings are so far away?

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