Disclaimer: I am not Stephenie Meyer, and therefore do not own the Twilight Series. Nor do I own any of the traditional Quileute stories, legends or practices contained herein- the Quileute tribe website has records of all stories (besides those created by Stephenie Meyer) available for perusal by the public. The Quileute Native American peoples are a fascinating culture and any information shared within is not meant to disrespect them in any way. Some events and facts I incorporate are true, and I apologize to any who may be offended by them. (This will be my only disclaimer. This is a Fanfiction site; if I actually had rights to these stories, I would be publishing them for money.)

AN: From this chapter onward, they only author's notes will be a "Thank You" to my reviewers, and any critical information I feel my readers need to know (possible writing breaks, important question answers, et cetera).

THANK YOU: Beaches of La Push, Dottyanne, guest (whoever you may be), mrslisablack, and smileygirl2455.

Chapter 1

"Between two evils, I always pick the one I've never tried before." ~Mae West

Bella

My mother never talked about her parents when I was young, everything I ever knew about them came from a small, half-made scrapbook she had started during one of her flights of fancy. It only had three pictures of my grandparents contained within it shallow pages; the first was of their wedding, the second was a family photo from when my mother was young, and the last was of my grandmother holding an infant me while my grandfather smiled over her shoulder. I had asked her about them- claiming we were doing a family tree project in school- she told me their basic information; full names, birthdates, and a couple other trivial facts. But, when I tried to dig deeper, she had shut down and sent me to my room. I called my dad shortly thereafter, hoping he would answer my questions, but he had just given me the same information.

When I visited him that summer, I interrogated him about them relentlessly- he eventually gave in and told me the reason nobody ever talked about them; their deaths were the reason my parents had spilt up. I looked at the pictures in a new light afterwards; the beautiful Quileute woman held tightly in the arms of her white husband. I could tell many of my facial features came from her, but I supposed my hair and skin came from my father's side.

I had let go of the issue and pushed them from my mind, after that. I assumed it wasn't worth the pain my questions would bring… I didn't know then that my ignorance was just as dangerous.

~***~ (Some of the following was taken from New Moon, Chapter 9) ~***~

I grumbled to myself; a horrible night ruined even further by Mike's gagging in the backseat. I weighed the reasons for the outing- Charlie, Charlie, and Charlie- against the trip itself… and suddenly, my dad's worry over me sounded much more appealing. Though, Jake's presence did help lessen the blow. I peered over at said boy- man, I amended- and took in his flushed skin and tense muscles, and I was seriously starting to worry about him.

Mike groaned and threw up in the bucket Jake had shoved into his sweaty hands on our way out of the theatre. I grimaced, hoping my own stomach could stand the sound and smell. Jake anxiously looked over his shoulder to ensure his precious car hadn't been defiled.

The trip back home felt so much longer than the drive to the theatre. Jake was quiet, thoughtful. His arm was wrapped around me, protecting me from the cold air blowing in through the open window. I stared out the windshield, consumed with guilt. It was wrong to encourage Jake- pure selfishness. It didn't matter that I'd tried to make my position clear… If he felt any hope- at all- that this could turn into something other than friendship, than I obviously hadn't been clear enough.

How could I explain so that he would understand? I was an empty shell; like a vacant house- condemned- for months, I'd been utterly uninhabitable. With Jake's help, I'd improved quite a bit. He had repainted and refurbished me; I was no longer in complete disrepair… But, that was all- just a slight makeover, all a paint job does is hide the cracked walls and broken windows. He deserved better than that- better than a one-room, falling-down fixer-up-per. I was convinced that no amount of investment on his part could put me back in working order. And yet, I knew I wouldn't send him away- I was too selfish.

I drove Mike home in his Suburban, while Jake followed behind us to take me home… Jake was quiet all the way back to my house, and I wondered if he was thinking the same things I was; maybe he was changing his mind... It was wrong, but I hoped he wasn't.

"I would invite myself in, since we're early," he said as we pulled up next to my truck, "but I think you might be right about the fever… I'm starting to feel a little… strange."

"Oh no, not you too! Do you want me to drive you home?"

"No." He shook his head, his eyebrows pulling together, "I don't feel sick yet, just… wrong. If I have to, I'll pull over."

"Will you call me as soon as you get in?" I asked anxiously.

"Sure, sure." He continued frowning, staring ahead into the darkness and biting his lip.

I opened the door to get out, but he grabbed my wrist tightly and held me in place- I couldn't help noticing how nice his hot skin felt against mine, "What is it, Jake?" I inquired.

He seemed to think about the question for a moment before answering, "There's something I want to tell you, Bella… but I think it's going to sound kinda corny." I nodded, biting my lip nervously. "It's just that… I know you're unhappy a lot. And, maybe it doesn't help anything, but I wanted you to know that I'll always be here for you. I won't let you down- I promise you can count on me, not matter what." He turned to look me in the eye, "Wow- that does sound corny." He laughed lowly, and the sound sent shivers up my spine. "You know that, right? That I would never, ever hurt you?"

I smiled at him, "Yeah, Jake, I know that- and I already do count on you… probably more than you know." A smile broke across his face the way the sunrise set the clouds on fire, and the moment of elation that passed over me was confusing… I felt happy purely because he was happy?

He let go of my wrist, and I instantly missed the contact, "C'mon, let me walk you to the door." He didn't give me a chance to protest before he opened his door and stepped out into the night. I sighed, then took a deep, fortifying breath to brace myself, then followed him up to the shelter of the porch. I tripped on the last step and he caught me, steadying me against his broad chest.

"Thanks." I mumbled embarrassedly, feeling the dark blush stain my cheeks. His chest rumbled and I scowled, knowing he was laughing at my clumsiness.

"Can't go a single day without klutzing out, can you Bells?" I turned my head to glare up at him, and his face was mere inches from mine. I gulped, the anger washing from me like a flash flood. I could feel his overly warm breath on my face. His eyes were dark, and held a strange look in their depths, "You're so beautiful." He breathed and his voice was husky. If anyone else had said the same, I would have denied it immediately- but this was Jake… my best friend. I bit my lip, unwilling to move and interrupt the moment. One of his hands moved from my back, and it brushed my shoulder and neck as he set it against my cheek. He ran his thumb across what was showing of my lower lip before pulling it free of my teeth. I felt my blush grow even darker- I must have invented a new shade of crimson by now. My eyes drifted closed and within moments, his burning lips met my own. I don't know what prompted me, but something about the kiss made it impossible for me to push him away. It was a complete contrast from the cold embrace that was so familiar and yet… it felt completely right.

I lifted my own hands from his sides to wrap them around his neck. His right arm tightened from its position on my waist, and his large hand fit itself into the small of my back- pressing me closer to him. I opened my mouth to gasp in oxygen, and he instantly infiltrated it- his tongue coaxing my own into a battle for dominance. This was going so much further than any kiss I'd shared with him- he was always so careful to keep the poor, breakable human safe.

Jake slowly ended the kiss, pulling away millimetre by millimetre until we were resting out foreheads together, "We…" I took a deep breath, "probably shouldn't have done that." Jake mumbled something incoherently under his breath, but didn't respond any further.

An odd look passed over his face and his gently pushed me away, "I really think I'd better go home."

I nodded, stepping back, "That sounds like a really good idea." He laughed and stepped past me to walk down the porch stairs, but he stopped to give me a quick peck on the cheek as he went by. I turned to watch him, a light drizzle was starting and creating a fine mist. He waved as he opened the door to his Rabbit, "Don't forget to call me!" I yelled to him, waving back.

"Sure, sure." He called back and I frowned at his dismissal. I watched him go, and he seemed to be in control of the car, at least. As soon as he was out of sight, I backed up until I my back hit the door- I fumbled with the doorknob for a minute until I was finally able to get a stable hold of it and open the door. I leaned against it and took slow steps backward till the door hit the hallway wall.

I didn't mean to make any noise, but I guess I must've because Charlie came out of the living room- drawn away from some sports game, "Movie over already?" He asked, sounding surprised. He was keeping half-an-eye on the TV through the doorway- must be an exciting game.

"Mike got sick," I explained shortly, "some kind of stomach flu."

"You okay?" He seemed genuinely concerned- though he was inching his way back toward the living room. I decided to give him an honest answer.

I sighed, rubbing my forehead, "I'm pretty sure I caught whatever Mike has- I'm feeling… off."

He nodded, "Why don't you go to bed?" He suggested, "We'll see how you feel in the morning- if you're not doing any better, I'll call you in sick."

I smiled, thankful for his thoughtfulness, "I'll go to bed in a little bit; Jake wasn't feeling all that great either, and he promised to call me when he got home."

"Alright. I'm going to be up for a while, in case you need me." He gave me one last worried look, and then made his way back to his game. I shivered, and realised I was still standing in the open doorway- I quickly shut the door and stood there staring at the worn wood, still shuddering from the cool air. I glanced at the small clock on the wall, trying to figure out how much longer it would take Jake to get home.

I continued watching the clock as the minutes ticked by; ten, fifteen… Even when I was driving it only took fifteen minutes… and Jake drove faster than I did.

Eighteen minutes.

I picked up the phone and dialled.

It rang and rang- maybe Billy was asleep? Maybe I dialled the wrong number? I tried again. On the eighth ring, just as I was about to hang up, Billy answered, "Hello?" His voice was wary, like he was expecting bad news.

I was startled by his tone, and it took me a moment to respond, "Billy, it's me- Bella." I heard a grunt of acknowledgement, "Is Jake home yet? He left here about twenty minutes ago."

"He's here." Billy stated expressionlessly.

Taken aback, and a little irritated by the man's distance, I was admittedly sharp when I replied, "He was supposed to call me. He was starting to get sick when he left, and I was worried."

"He was… too sick to call. He's not feeling well right now." I frowned over the man's pause- why would he have to think about what had happened? I realized he probably wanted to get back to his son.

"Let me know if you need any help," I offered, "I could come down." I thought of Billy, stuck in his chair, and Jake fending for himself…

"No, no." Billy interrupted my worrying, "We're fine. Stay at your place." Billy's rudeness, if anything, made me even more concerned. I didn't understand why he was being the way he was- Billy had practically become an uncle to me over the years, thanks to his closeness with Charlie.

"Okay." I finally said.

"Bye, Bella."

The line disconnected, and I was left muttering my "Goodbye," to the dial tone.

"That Jake?" Charlie's voice suddenly asked, causing me to whip around in surprise.

"Billy." I wiped a hand across my forehead, suddenly sweating- it felt like someone had turned the temperature up by fifty degrees, "He said Jake was too sick to come to the phone.

Charlie's head cocked to one side, "Bells, you alright? You're looking kind of pale…"

I shook my head, "I'm a little diz-"

The last thing I saw were the floorboards as my world spun.