11.

…

What's done in the dark will be brought to the light.

You can run on for a long time

Run on for a long time

Sooner or later God'll cut you down.

…

Bella

…

The bittersweet smell of marijuana floated through the air as I walked up to the front porch of the house, where Jasper lounged, leaning back in an old deck chair. A burning joint hung loosely in one hand, curlicues of smoke drifting upward. Old country music played in the background, the twangy and sorrowful sounds of Johnny Cash throwing me back into memories of hanging out on the rez, with Jacob and his family.

Peter laughed at the sight. "Getting back to your roots there, Jasper?" At the moment, I was more interested in the joint than in Jasper's transformation from Alice's preppy hangdog into a real person. A damned interesting person, too, if the music and the weed were taken into consideration.

I bounded up the stairs to where Jasper sat, perching myself on the low wall of the porch. "Want to share? Can vampires actually get high?" Peter laughed at my eagerness as he took a seat next to me, leaning back with one arm on the ledge behind me.

"Sure can. Doesn't last very long, though." He held the joint out to me.

Just touching it, holding it threw me right back to all those days and nights I spent alone back at my apartment, getting high and trying to forget about all the loneliness and danger. How I'd been rejected by the Cullens, by the Pack and everyone on the rez, and how I'd done the same thing to Charlie.

So I took a deep drag, the weed crackling as it burned and thick smoke filling my lungs. I held it in, thinking that now I could hold it as long as I wanted, no longer really needing oxygen. Within seconds I felt that familiar haze overcoming me – I wanted to erase all anxiety, worried thoughts, even dull my thirst and the accompanying anger that constantly brewed at the back of my mind. Wanted it all gone.

I exhaled, feeling dizzy as I blew out a healthy lungful of sweet smoke, and I let my head fall onto Peter's shoulder. "I forgot how much I love weed." I announced, feeling a ridiculous expression spread across my face – an uneasy, vicious grin. Not me, and yet too true.

I held the joint out to Jasper, but Peter plucked it out of my hand and took a toke of his own. After he exhaled, he looked at the joint thoughtfully. "Tastes just like the stuff we jacked from those Manson-wannabes. Hopefully less acid laced in this shit."

With a laugh, Jasper replied, "Probably is the same green! I stashed the rest here before I went home to the Cullens. Didn't want them to lecture me for it."

Was I hearing that right? Acid, probably not the best for a newborn vampire, but shit. No reason to say no to drugs, now. I itched to have the joint back in my hand. "Yeah, since when do you smoke, Jasper? I never would've pictured you as a stoner."

"Hell, I was smoking before you were even born." Obviously, I thought. "Before your great-grandparents were born, too, I reckon. Started smoking ditch weed when I joined up with the Confederate Army."

"Dang, you're old." I teased.

"You're not wrong." Jasper said ruefully, taking the joint from Peter and tapping off the ashes. "Nice red eyes, by the way. Never thought you'd stray from the Cullens' diet once you were changed."

At Jasper's mention of my most recent hunt, I remember the intoxicating blood and pleasure that followed. Peter rubbed a hand over my lower back, no doubt remembering the same things. To Jasper I replied, "Yeah, well, I'm not a Cullen, am I? Let's just say… I'm exploring my options."

And that was when I felt my first twinge of guilt. I couldn't pinpoint where it came from… I knew we hadn't fed on anyone innocent. I knew I wasn't betraying the Cullens – I had no obligation to them. Maybe I should have nurtured that guilt, let it grow into a force so powerful it could keep me away from human blood (I knew I should, and I ignored that horrified whispering voice inside: murderer, monster, I need more). Instead, I took another hit off the joint, and leaned into Peter. Jasper shot me a knowing look, but he pushed out a wave understanding at the same time.

Peter threw a comforting arm around my shoulders. "You know, when you think about it, all of us are startin' new lives. I finally got that bitch Maria off my back. Jasper, you're on your own away from Alice for the first time in sixty years. And Bella, you've got the most freedom of all – you can do whatever you want with your new life." Was my life my own, though? My thoughts? Everything, mind and body and sensations – was different now, and I knew it. My fingers twitched, bones cracking.

"We all can." I dazedly looked both Peter and Jasper in the eye. "Right? We're all basically started out on a blank slate." I looked closely at the burning cherry on the joint in my hand, realizing now that the fire in my hand was one of the only things that could kill me now.

The last few days pounded at my memory, filling my subconscious – blood, ecstasy, anxiety – and I knew nothing in my life would ever be the same. Obviously. I'd spent the last four years running, burying myself in alcohol, weed, cigarettes, anything to make me forget. Anything to dull my mind, to make me not care that I had nothing, that my life was shit.

I felt the edges of something, here, on the creaking old porch with two men (monsters, just like me) I barely knew – and even then, I felt as though I was eighteen again, terrified and alone in a strange city.

This time, though, this time: no end would come. I couldn't drown myself in drugs and liquor, sex or pain and wait until I died, violent, alone. No end would come.

I'd told Peter and Jasper (and whispered, silently, the same to myself) that we all had new lives, blank slates, wasn't it wonderful and freeing? But the twisting in my gut betrayed me, to Jasper at least (the only one to understand, to connect, but not the one to light me through and through).

My human life was over, but that didn't mean I should give up, or give in. I'd lost so much – my home, my parents, all of my friends, in Phoenix and in Forks. I wasn't alone now, though.

I had Peter now – somehow and for some reason we sparked. He drove me crazy, with his touch and his eyes, and yet his presence calmed me. Despite my chaotic mind, I felt safe and secure with Peter's arm around my shoulders. We'd never even talked about what was going on between us, not really. For some reason… I wasn't worried. Not in any rush.

I leaned up against Peter, then finally tuned back into the conversation. He and Jasper were going on about cars – apparently Peter's car, the '67 Nova, had never been on a decent road trip.

"So then let's take it on a road trip." I proposed.

"Where to?"

I hesitated, thinking of what the things I'd always told myself I would do before I died. I'd always wanted to travel, go to college, do crazy shit and have wild adventures. Climb a mountain, go on a safari, write a book.

However, only one regret from my human life really stood out in my mind – my parents. I hadn't seen either my mom or Charlie in years. "Forks." I grinned wryly at Peter and Jasper. "I want to see my dad. Just so I know… what he's up to, I guess. It might be a tad tricky, though, considering I was pretty much banished from there by the Quileute tribe."

"Who?"

Oh yeah – I remembered Peter probably had never heard of the tribe. "Local Native American tribe… friends of my family. Some of their young guys are shapeshifters – kind of like werewolves, but not just during the full moon. They protected me after the Cullens left and Victoria was still after me… but when they couldn't take her they kicked me out to save themselves."

Peter clapped his hands together. "Sounds like a bunch of little assholes need someone to teach them a lesson."

I laughed. "Thanks, but no. I'd rather not have to see any of them, if I don't have to. Although I would like to see my old friend Jacob freak out when he sees me now."

I felt like a liar as soon as I said it – no way in hell did I want to see Jacob, the traitor. Sure, I could appreciate why he treated me the way he did, exiling me, basically, from my own home. Throwing me out to die alone.

Literally.

He'd been my friend for almost my entire life. We'd met as children, forced together to play on the beach, in the tidepools, by our fathers. Most importantly… he'd been the only ray of sunshine in my life after Edward left. He'd made it his mission to snap me out of my melancholic funk, and later, he'd pledged his Pack to protect me from Maria.

So I planned to avoid Jacob, and the Quileute land as a whole. We'd get to go on a road trip, Peter and Jasper and I, and I'd maybe get some closure with my dad.

Feeling undoubtedly more optimistic, I leaned back in my seat. The sky was clear, with sharp, bright stars laid out against deep black. I shifted into a deck chair and pulled Peter into the one next to me. I slung my legs over his lap and leaned back to get a better view of the sky.

Looking up at the stars, I reached back to the Astronomy class I'd taken back in Phoenix. I remembered being entranced by the stories behind the constellations and marveling with the innocence of a fifteen-year-old at the significance of seeing the dying light of stars from millions of miles away.

Taking the weed and a rolling paper from the table between my chair and Jasper's, I rolled us another joint. My new vampire-quick fingers rolled a perfect joint in seconds – a feat I'd never before been able to accomplish. All I'd ever been able to do before was squishy, loose joints that were barely smokeable.

"What'll we do after finding my mom, then? What the plan after that? What have you always wanted to do, but couldn't?" I asked, curious to hear Peter's response, feeling right then the enormity of everything I didn't know about him.

He and Jasper sat in contemplative silence for a few moments. Peter rubbed a thumb over my knee, his hand warm against my skin. "I have no idea… I've been on the run for decades, never wanted to hope too much for anything more."

Well if that wasn't just the saddest thing ever. I'd always seen Peter as this tough guy, all strong and manly and hot. Damned if he wasn't useful in a fight, and he was plenty interesting. Just thinking about all he'd seen and lived through in his decades of vamping around made my mind fuzz over.

But once upon a time he'd been human, too, no doubt with hopes and dreams of his own. He deserved to re-discover those things… and I would totally use this road trip to help him do it.

…

We left first thing in the morning. Jasper left to hunt, leaving Peter and I to haphazardly gather supplies. I packed my bag with some clothes, my camera, and a notebook. If we were going to be living out our dreams, I was determined to live up to the stereotypical literary romance of a last-minute road trip and document the entire thing. It felt weird to not pack any snacks, which just threw my mind to the next hunt…

A little antsy, I was relieved when Jasper returned and we finally got on the road. Sunrise peeked over the horizon when we pulled out onto the highway. Peter and Jasper argued good-naturedly over which of their old tapes to listen to first, and I smiled as my hand out the window cut through the warm morning air.

…

A/N: Sorry this took so long! Lost my motivation for a while there… I almost abandoned this story but then I had a change of heart :-) Lyrics at the top are from Johhny Cash's God's Gonna Cut You Down. Anyway, please leave a review & let me know what you think!)