Title: A Past Revealed

Author: Dreaming of Forks

Beta: Beta Needed - The first few chapters that I have written on my own and I have edited the ferociously, but as writers we always seem to miss things. Would also be nice to have another perspective on the plot as it develops. An experienced beta is preferred. I do expect that this will become fairly long.

Disclaimer: The Twilight Series, and all that encompasses it, is the property of Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended. I am just borrowing the characters and promise to give them back, but not after a little suffering of course. Any original characters are of my own creation, and are only added to support the movement of the storyline. I am not a big fan of Mary Sues anyway.

Timeline: This will pick up shortly after Twilight, during the summer before New Moon. I wanted to pick a time that was spoken of in the series and would not conflict with the events in New Moon. I can't guarantee that will not change as the story progresses, but I will try my best. Some spoilers for Eclipse and Breaking Dawn may also exist.

Summary: What if some else could hear Edwards thoughts? How does his mind reading ability connect to his human past? Beth Sutton, a seemingly average college student, might just get to find out, whether she likes it or not.

Authors Note: While reading the Twilight Saga, many questions have often formed in my head. Perhaps, I just have an eye for details, but sometimes my mind gets off on tangents, and stories like this are born. Edward always has the freedom to read others minds, except Bella, and see their deepest thoughts. What if the tables were turned, and someone else could read his mind? Or even interact with him through the channel of his mind? How might he react?

I started writing this story as a way to answer that, but also found that I had several questions about his past that are not necessary explored in the book. How did he come to possess his mother's wedding ring and pendent in Eclipse? (Vampires don't necessary inherit things by legal channels, since technically they no longer exist to their human friends and families) What might his relationship been like with his mother?

I have developed an original character for this story to reveal some things about Edward's past, and to force him to have to grow as a character. Bella and Alice will also play a role in the story, but may not show up until little later. The story is told through Beth's POV and Edward's POV.

While I have written fanfiction off and on for several years for my own entertainment, this is the first time that I have published any of it, and my first attempt at Twilight. I hope you enjoy it. Feedback of any kind is welcomed.

Chapter Two

I open my eyelids meagerly, still lingering somewhere between sleep and consciousness. Snuggling down closer into the warm comforter, I looked about the room. A strange grey light filtered softly through vertical blinds and laid patterns across the bed. I was not in the familiar surroundings of my room at home.

My body stiffened, letting my mind work through the foggy layers to a more wakened state. The events of the past two days of travel began to come back to me; I remembered that I was two thousand miles away from home and the pain that had plagued my otherwise ordinary life for the past few months.

I was in a hotel room in the small inconsequential town of Forks, Washington to be exact.

I relaxed at bit with my realization, and stretched out my legs under the warm covers, working out the effects of a long flight in cramped quarters. Rolling over, I glanced lazily at the clock on the small bedside table.

5:04 AM.

I pulled the comforter over my head, groaning at the ungodly hour.

"So much for being able to sleep in on the West Coast" I muttered to myself.

I knew that I should try to go back to sleep, but it was already too late. My mind began to run away from me in with an endless stream of possibilities for the day. Adrenaline flowed through my limbs as I thought of my surroundings outside. Long dormant for the past few months, the flow of excitement was unfamiliar, but I welcomed it as it washed through me.

I made quick work of showering, dressing sensibility in a pair of blue jeans, a light cotton t-shirt and my hiking boots. Pulling my long reddish brown hair into a ponytail, I examined myself in the bathroom mirror. Green eyes stared back at me, studying their subject with intelligent intensity. My peachy complexion and unique hair color had always been the envy of others when I was in high school, but I had rarely cared. My friends often tried to encourage me to wear makeup and go shopping with them for trendy clothes, and sometimes I tried. After a few days though, I always returned to the familiar comforts of my t-shirts, jeans, and athletic shoes. There was just no point in being something that I wasn't.

I was just a simple girl.

This had been one the more restful nights of sleep I had gotten in awhile, the benefits were evident. The faint circles that settled my eyes, almost permanently in the past months, looked like they were fading. Something about this region made me feel safe and protected. It was if the thick forests and mountains shielded me from the memories like the blankets that I had played under as a child.

After a few more minutes of aimless thought, I switched off the light and walked back in the main room. I grabbed a small backpack from the front compartment of my suitcase and packed my supplies for the day: a few bottles of water, a park map, granola bars, and a handheld GPS unit that I had purchased before leaving home. I had no idea how it worked, so I also grabbed the instruction manual at last minute, before zipping up the bag. Tying my raincoat around my waist, I grab the backpack, my camera bag, and the rental car keys, and headed out into the cool early morning air.

The parking lot was silent and empty. I looked up the sky, still overcast, but the rain had stopped sometime during the night. A thin layer of fog clouds floated hazily around the edges of the lot, shadowing the tall canopy of fir trees that surrounded it on two sides. It made everything look mysterious and enchanted. I loved it.

I climbed into the tiny car and deposited my belongings in the passenger seat. It started with a reluctant choke and came to life. Pulling out onto the main highway, I turned north making my way through the small downtown area of Forks, getting my first glimpse of the still sleeping town in the predawn light. Darkness had already fallen when I arrived last night.

I stopped at the one stoplight at the center of town, waiting for it to turn green. A humble row of two story storefronts lined the street one side, across from a small brick bank and flanked by a café. And a tiny post office stood further down the road from the bank. A single empty logging truck turned in front of me at the light, making its way to pick up the first load of the morning to the south. In it sleepy state and grand surroundings, this remote town could almost be considered quaint, but with little roughness around the edges. It was so distant and simple compared with the clash of the modern shopping strips and the rows of ornate Victorians in the historical districts of Greenville. This town was probably not very impressive to the average tourist who passed through here on their way the beautiful offering of the surrounding forests and beaches. But it was real and honest, openly representing the working class values and lifestyles of its citizens.

The light changed, I urged the car forward passing a few houses, the community park, and the only gas station. I soon crossed over the small suspension bridge spanning the Callawah River just outside the city limits. The houses gave way to soaring trunks of the spruces and hemlocks native the area. They towered over the roadway creating long wall of feathery green. Rows of clear cut from logging created brown ribbons up the sides of a small mountain in the distance.

A handful of miles passed before I came to the intersection of Route 110, marked with a brown National park sign directing visitors west to the beaches of La Push, or east towards the Sol Duc trailhead. I turned right and headed east towards the trailhead and the Olympic Mountains.

As I drove, the moss that webbed the trees began to grow thicker, draping the branches like green icicles. The ferns grew more aggressively here, covering the forest floor right up to asphalt.

The sun rose slowly behind the clouds casting an olivaceous light through the canopy and down on the roadway. The temperature still remained cool, but already showed signs of rising into the mid-sixties by early afternoon, if the sun came through the clouds.

Back home, many people would have considered the day waste, and elected to stay indoors to avoid the possibility of rain. But here, where it rained so often, I was willing to take my chances and venture on a hike, seduced by the strange quality of the light. The light here was magical – a photographer's dream. Capturing this type of light in its on film in its true glory was difficult, but this morning I was up to the challenge.

Taking in my surrounding fully, I stopped the car briefly to watch a small herd of elk make their way through the dense forest, foraging for food. I grabbed for my camera and snapped several pictures of them from the car window, before they disappeared back into the darkness.

Smiling to myself, I moved on, wondering what it must be like to have the freedom to roam this open wilderness with limited threats from man. Surely the elk might face the occasional hunt of a bear or mountain lion, but only by the choice of Mother Nature. Time seemed to stand still here, capturing a rare glimpse of the past when land was still untouched and wild. I sighed, thinking of the urban sprawl I witnessed so often back home in the suburbs of Grand Rapids. Here, that seemed so far away – maybe even another lifetime.

When I came to the end of the road, it narrowed into a small foot trail that lead off into the forest, disappearing a few hundred feet ahead in the low light.

I parked the car to the side of the road and cut the engine. I read from the time from the dashboard clock.

6:17 A.M.

Stepping out of the car, I took a moment to take in the silence of the forest around me. The trees were oddly still except for the occasional wind that caressed the very tops hundreds of feet about my head. The clouds were starting to lift away now and small beams of sunlight shown down making strange patterns on the ground. I grabbed the backpack and my camera, and headed towards the trailhead.

Darkness still hung in the thick labriynth of ancient trees, and my eyes had to adjust as I entered into the tree line. I started down the path at a leisurely pace. I could help looking up in amazement at the immense height of trees surrounding the trail. They seemed to stretch to the heavens, and were definitely taller than any I had seen before.

Lost in thought, I walked for quite awhile along the trail, before coming to a small clearing. Small animals rustled through the low brush moving along the forest floor, but I was blissfully alone. I sat down on a makeshift bench made from a fallen log, and pulled out my map. The bench was shadowed by the branches of a huge spruce and provided some shade from the bright sun that shown down in the clearing.

Suddenly, my vulnerable mind was assault by images and the broken sound of a male voice. Everything came so fast, nearly extending the capacity of what my head could contain. My head throbbed violently, and the map fell from my hands, forgotten. Images, emotions, and the horrific voice still flooded my mind as I doubled over in pain, my hands flying to my head, involuntarily trying to shield myself. I tried to stand, and take a few steps back to the car, but staggered and collapsed in a thicket of ferns. I curled into a fetal position trying to ward off the savage images that continued to assault my mind.

I could see the hunter's prospective as he staked his prey, lurking in the brush just out of sight. Bloodlust and hunger sang loudly in his thoughts. I watched in horror as he used his precise senses to calculate angle of his attack and then leaped inhumanly from his hiding spot to take down the large elk. I could see the blood pulsing transparently in the elk's neck, and then screamed when I could see the prospective grow closer, knowing that the hunter was going straight for the strongest area of blood. I could hear the beast within him screaming for satisfaction and the blood poured from the wounded animal.

My own thoughts were still there at the very back of my mind, but I had been so taken by the invasion that it took me several moments to relocate them. The pain was still nearly unbearable, but I tried to think. Adrenaline shot through my body, sensing the danger and pleading with my brain for instructions to react. My mind though, remained trapped by the torturous assault, unable to control my muscles to run.

What was happening to me? I screamed from within. These were not my thoughts. They were the thoughts and actions of a savage – a killer. A monster! A monster in my head!