Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight.

Thanks so much for your reviews! I really am glad that all of you like this fic, and are still keeping up with it. Like I've said, I'm going to try my hardest to finish this fic. Push through all the writer's block and disinterest in the fandom that might come my way. Anyway, I'd love to hear your reviews on this! It'd mean a lot!

Playing With Fire
Chapter Nine: Dreamwalker

I completely took Paul off guard.

I could see that he wanted to critique my spaghetti all he wanted, but he couldn't find any fault with it. I felt cocky, arrogant, about the whole thing, despite "modest" being my default setting. I grinned at him over my own spaghetti, smirking like I had just won a million dollars. I had to say, it was the best I'd felt in a while.

"You two have a bet or something?" Charlie asked, wiping the sauce from his moustache.

"Paul just didn't believe I could cook."

I saw Paul purse his lips, "I know you could cook. I just didn't know if you could cook well. Two different things."

I wrinkled my nose in disgust at him, while Charlie hollered with laughter. I could tell that he liked Paul, which was surprising. Well, maybe it wasn't so much. I knew he knew practically everyone down at the rez on a friendly level. I guess I was just kind of pleasantly surprised that he was taking to someone whose name wasn't Jacob Black.

Dinner passed without much fault, except from the occasional shot thrown at me by Paul. Charlie seemed completely interested in this, which never ceased to amaze me. I threw back as much as I could, trying to make it seem like I could take care of myself - I was sure that surprised Charlie as well.

Charlie didn't seem to be concerned about Paul eating with us for the second night straight. I wasn't sure how I'd explain to Charlie that Paul was just my bodyguard from all things vampiric. And that there was another werewolf out in the woods guarding the outside. And that there were two on Charlie at all times. Yeah, that wouldn't be the best conversation to have. If I thought I was close to being sent to the nuthouse in my zombie stage, I would certainly be sent there if I shared all of that with my father.

Paul left later on, but I knew that he would be in my room in a matter of seconds. Strange, how the sense of nostalgia now crept up on me. It was so similar to what Edward used to do that it almost caused me to choke up. I told Charlie I had a long day and wanted to go to sleep. I wasn't sure if I wanted to, really, go up to my room. This would be the first night of Paul's "watch." If I could even call it that. I wasn't sure that I could even go to sleep. Most likely Paul would keep me up all night by berating me.

Still, I made my way up the stairs and to my room. Maybe tonight wouldn't be so bad. I hoped not. I hadn't been faced with the horror of the dream about Edward as of late. My dreams had been a peaceful blackness, which was somehow more frightening. I clenched my arms around myself as I made my way up the stairs.

I opened the door to my room to find Paul sitting in the old rocking chair near the window. My heart clenched for the being that used to sit in that exact spot.

"Sup," Paul said. Immediately I had a flashback of Leah, standing in the doorway, completely nonchalant.

"Going to bed," I told him before moving to smash myself into the comforter.

"In that?" He pointed cheekily to my jeans and sweater.

"Er…no…"

"Then change."

I felt my face flush. "Fine."

I moved to grab clean pajamas and the like before heading to the bathroom. I vaguely heard Paul's chuckle as I shut the door behind me.

I changed as quickly as I could, moving out of my old clothes with a speed that I didn't know I possessed. I tripped over the hem of my pants more than once, got tangled within the fabric of my sweater. I changed into my pair of raggedy sweatpants and baggy t-shirt, brushed my teeth, and then headed back into the fray. To say I wasn't nervous about this was an understatement. Sure, I was used to having Edward in my room, but Edward was…Edward. My heart clenched at his name as I shut the door behind me.

"Nice," Paul said sarcastically, looking at my pajamas.

"Thanks," I bit out, moving over to pull back the covers on my bed before crawling beneath them.

"No sarcastic response? I had been looking forward to a good row before having to watch you snore all night."

"Row?" I quirked a brow skeptically, "Really?"

"Vocabulary is important," he replied cheekily.

"Coming from someone whose favorite word is fuck," I said.

Paul looked taken aback for a moment, possibly by my use of the word. Yeah, I wouldn't have expected it either, but like I said before, sometimes you just have to say that certain word and get it over with. He quickly gathered himself and said, "Now, you don't know that much about me."

"I can guess as much."

"Not as predictable as you seem, Swan," he replied stonily, looking at me like I was some new being to him.

I rolled my eyes and sank further into my bed, turning my back to him. I didn't really feel like looking at him, a constant reminder of what my life had become. Chased by vampires. Forced to rely on some random werewolf I felt a certain kinship to just because of our similar circumstances.

"You talk in your sleep?"

I stiffened at the question, but said, "Yeah."

"You look like the type," Paul prodded. There was none of his usual snarky tone to his words, just general interest. Dull, even. "Keep everything bottled up while you're awake, only to let it out while you're asleep."

"That makes no sense."

"Eh," was his only response. There was some renewed wit there, though I couldn't be bothered to care. Somehow, the day had taken a lot out of me. Maybe it was my new demeanor that was taking a toll on my senses. The day with Angela and Leah had been fun, sure, but that required me keeping up a front that I really didn't feel. The whole thing was ridiculous.

"It's tiring when the walls come down, huh?"

I flipped over finally and looked to Paul. He was staring out the large window, a content expression on his face, his dark brows relaxed but his eyes looked like they were thinking of something very important. Most likely about Leah and seeing her so suddenly. I could sympathize with him. Didn't mean I had to like him, exactly.

"Walls?" I scoffed. "What do you know?"

Paul didn't answer, as if thinking that answering me would be doing just that - breaking down some invisible wall he had built around himself. I sighed and curled up into a ball underneath the covers of my bed, wanting nothing more than to be able to sleep and have no dreams. Hopefully the whole Jacob-thing hadn't awoken the dreams of Edward that I tried so hard to avoid.

"Get some sleep," Paul said. "You'll need it."

I wasn't sure exactly what I would need it for, other than school, but my eyelids were growing heavy and I didn't want to protest.

I fell asleep quickly, my last image being the figure of Paul, the only hope I had against the vampire who craved my death.

My dreams that night were odd, to say the least.

I dreamt of running. Searching. The endless, fruitless search that frightened me. Always looking for Edward. Except this time, I found myself shouting two names. Both of the men that had chosen different paths. The paths that didn't involve me.

I was searching for them at first, but then something within the dream changed.

Peace drifted in the dream, almost like a light fog. It settled over me, weaving its way into my bones, flowing through my blood. I felt my clumsy walk become a graceful run, jumping over fallen branches and ducking under overhanging limbs. There was something different about the mood of the dream. No longer searching…almost like I was running for recreation. Even in the dream I felt a manic grin spread over my face, like my dream-self was incredulous to the change that occurred.

I was a lithe being, unconcerned by my human clumsiness. It wasn't until I had gotten over the shock of the carefree sense of my dream that I realized that I wasn't alone.

A wolf, just a regular old wolf, was running beside me. It wasn't like the enormous forms of the Quileute werewolves, just a small, dog-like being. The wolf even behaved like a dog itself. The gray coat of the wolf was shiny and long, its eyes a brilliant amber in color.

The whole dream made no sense whatsoever.

However, I did wake up that morning feeling the odd sense of peace that permeated the dream had drifted over to my reality.

I was calmer, felt more refreshed. It was an odd feeling, being as I usually felt like death on two legs.

"Do you always wake up at six in the morning?" Paul asked, looking at me from his perch. He was still in the chair, though his long legs were thrown over one of the arms, his head laying on a pillow he had stolen from somewhere in the house.

"You look awfully comfortable for someone that is supposed to be on guard."

Paul shrugged, "I have been up all night. Don't give me a lecture."

"Not lecturing," I told him as I rose from the bed. I realized belatedly that my shirt had rode up in the night, exposing my stomach. I flushed and pulled it down, hoping that Paul hadn't seen. I frantically looked over there to find that he was staring up at the ceiling, swaying his feet back and forth. His legs were so long that even draped over the arm of the chair, his toes still scraped the floor.

"Sounds like it."

I sighed and rose from my bed.

"You should go back to sleep," he told me, looking at me through the corner of his eye.

"I…don't think I can," I told him honestly.

"Because of the wolves?"

I tensed, "What?"

Paul finally turned his attention away from the ceiling and looked me straight in the eyes. A slow, taunting smirk crossed his lips, "The wolves. Apparently you were dreaming about them. Heard the name of your bloodsucker and Jake a couple times, too."

I felt myself blush to the roots of my hair, "Erm…"

Paul shrugged, "It's fine. You talk in your sleep. It's kinda funny."

"Funny?"

"You know, humorous."

"I know what the word means, Paul."

"Could've fooled me."

I glared at him, not sure what he was trying to get at. Maybe he was just trying to make idle conversation, but I wasn't sure. I just knew that I wanted to get as far away as I could as soon as I could. The whole thing was slightly uncomfortable. I was surprised I was able to get to sleep as easily as I did last night. I figured it would be harder to sleep with a strange guy in my room, but somehow I slept soundly and thoroughly. The whole thing somehow felt odd. Like I shouldn't be this comfortable around a man, but I supposed odd things happen when someone's life is like mine. I couldn't remember a time when my life wasn't odd, to be frank.

I thought abruptly of the times I spent with Edward here, curled up beside me. I felt normal then, too.

A shudder rippled down my spine and I turned and stood up, my bare feet coming in contact with the freezing wooden floorboards. Another shiver, due only to the climate this time, found me slightly trembling.

Paul looked at me, an interesting shade to his eyes. He stared at me for a good few seconds before flipping his ankles over the side of the chair, his own feet touching the floor.

"I'm taking a shower," I told him, moving to gather clean clothes.

"Nice to know," Paul said sarcastically before walking past me and down to the kitchen. He loped with a sort of easy grace, like the wolf he became on a regular basis. I stood and watched as he descended the stairs before gathering some clean clothes and towel and heading to the bathroom.

The whole situation was completely bizarre. I wasn't sure whether to hope that Paul stayed or hoped that he decided to phase and turn to the woods. I wasn't sure whether I wanted him around me or not. My whole thoughts were a myriad of paradoxes, ones that I wanted desperately to sort out.

The hot water of the shower was a welcoming comfort, one that I relished. I wished desperately that I could stay underneath the scalding spray and just ignore all the problems in my life. Ignore the thoughts of Edward and Jacob. Ignore the constant, looming threat of Victoria. Ignore the strange way that I felt more myself around Paul than I had in a long, long time.

Everything was just so messed up.

I washed my hair, lathered my body with soap, rinsed everything off. I felt my stomach growl, and decided that I needed to at least fix something to eat before I headed off to school. I had been rather neglectful of eating when I was in my zombie phase, something that had carried on to now. I only realized how weak I would get when my head would swim, when my hands would shake. Only then would I give in to the urge to fill myself with food. Almost like I was punishing myself.

I couldn't tell anyone that, I knew. I would expect my father would be beside himself, expect Jake to be upset, expect Paul to…

Well, I didn't know what to expect of Paul.

I realized then, as I dried myself with the towel, that I hated being alone. There was a reason why I'd taken comfort with Jacob. He was a bright and sunny beacon, one that was always around. One that took the care to bring me out of my funk and make me need him in the process.

I sighed and dressed myself in the clothes I had brought with me - a simple cream colored sweater and a pair of dark blue jeans. I slipped socks on my feet and trudged down to the kitchen where Paul was waiting.

He was sitting in the same chair that he had occupied yesterday, leaning forward, his head pillowed on his forearms. It only took a minute of my careful observation to see that he was asleep.

Something jerked in my chest. It was a curious feeling, one that was so jarring that I almost jumped with the suddenness of it. I hadn't felt anything like that since…since…

An image of golden eyes flashed through my mind and I tried not to clutch my chest.

I watched him sleeping, thinking that he would awaken any time and chastise me for staring at him when he was so vulnerable. He didn't though, and I figured I should at least cook.

I made the same thing I made the last time we were in this situation. Scrambled eggs. I used as many as I could, emptying the entire carton. I scraped all the eggs onto a plate, stacking them as high as they could go. I then grabbed a sticky note and wrote a small note that said, "Eat up."

I stuck the note to the edge of the plate and then moved to the cabinet. I pulled out a pack of Pop-Tarts and grabbed my backpack from the floor by my shoes. I slipped them on my feet and opened the package, hearing it crinkle as I pulled out one of the breakfast items and shoved it in my mouth.

I heard a rustle in the kitchen, a faint chuckle of amusement.

There was a pause in which I closed the door more slowly behind me than I used to do, almost like I wanted to hear what else was going to happen. Then I heard Paul call out, "Thanks."

The door shut behind me, and I found that my cheeks were hurting due to the bright smile on my face.

End Chapter Nine.