Bella woke, shaky and twisted up inside, momentarily confused as to the feeling. Then she remembered. Yesterday. And tomorrow. Horrors to bookend each other.
Then she remembered today.
Edward would take her to meet Jacob. And he would carry her up the mountain.
She brought her head down to her knees, breathing in slowly and surely. Her ribs ached with it, but she made herself continue.
He couldn't know. Not today.
Possibly never.
She closed her eyes, the breathing becoming shaky.
He would kill Jacob if he knew. And that would unravel their alliance, and the treaty. She didn't let herself imagine what that would look like. Or sound like.
No, she needed to keep this secret. Too many lives depended on it. Today. And tomorrow.
"You ready?" Charlie called, making Bella jump, rapping on her door. "Alice just called, said she's on her way."
No, she wasn't ready. At all. "Almost," she mumbled, standing, wincing as dormant pains woke, angry and fresh.
Charlie, always vocally recalcitrant in the morning, spared her the weight of any conversation. He was ready to go himself, only waiting to see Bella off. If she hadn't been so preoccupied, she would have felt like an imposition.
Alice was chipper and prompt, playing her part of the ruse with alacrity.
"Have fun fishing Charlie!" she called, as she skipped down the steps, Bella following her more slowly. It had become easier to move, but things smarted with any sudden shifts in gait.
Edward was waiting for her, arms slipping around her as soon as she opened the car door in the garage.
Her startled jump was a novelty. "Sorry," he said softly, hearing her heartbeat skip several planned beats. He kissed her gently, happy to have this wordless greeting between them. "Ready to go camping?"
"Sure," she smiled nervously.
"Everything will be fine," he said. "We'll be together. Nothing to worry about."
She didn't let herself think of all the things that could so very easily be worried about, but nodded, taking his hand, feeling the relief at its familiarity. Her good hand smarted at the wrist, the torque of his slight movement aggravating the bruising there. She was carefully covered, the long-sleeved shirt buttoned tightly.
"What happened here?" he asked, seeing the brace on her other hand. His frown was deep, looking between it and her face.
"Tripped, fell," she shrugged. "Breakable, remember?" she smiled, trying to lessen his concern.
"Precious, more like," he said, picking it up, looking at it. "Why didn't you tell me?"
She raised her eyebrows at him. "Really?"
He refused to acknowledge her incredulousness. "Carlisle," he called softly.
"That's why," Bella said softly, a note of warning in her voice.
Carlisle was suddenly there, not bothering to hide his speed. "You tripped?" he asked, frowning slightly. Such an odd injury for tripping.
Bella nodded, face paling as Carlisle took her hand, removing the brace.
"Who saw you?" he asked, studying her fingers without moving them.
Bella answered woodenly.
"Did he prescribe anything for the pain?" he asked.
She shook her head.
Edward knew better. "Or did you just refuse?" he asked, letting a note of amusement colour this knowing accusation.
The doctor hadn't asked, and neither had she. She shrugged by way of response.
"That must be painful," Carlisle said, slipping the brace back on. "Why don't I send you with something for tonight? You aren't exactly going to be in the lap of luxury."
He was back and gone instantly, handing Edward a small container of pills. Bella supposed he knew better than to try to convince her to pack them. With a parting smile, he disappeared again, leaving just the two of them.
She rolled her eyes, leaning back against the storage cupboards in the garage. Edward was gathering supplies, stuffing them into a large backpack.
From across the space, Alice's long, and dramatically hissed in breath made Edward pause. She was standing at the doorway that led from the garage to the kitchen.
"No!" she said, gasping.
Bella went stock still.
Edward did too.
But these reactions were for very different reasons.
"Edward," Alice said curtly, "would you care to explain to me why I see you two eloping? In Los Vegas?"
Edward looked at her with a steely gaze. "No," he said, "I wouldn't. And you will not pester Bella with asking, either."
Bella was so relieved that Alice hadn't seen anything else, that she found herself slumping back against the cupboard door, not realizing how tense she'd become. "It's fine," she murmured, surprising herself, she hadn't intended to speak aloud.
Edward could sense Bella's body slipping through various stages of bodily distress, and was alarmed by what he thought was the effect of Alice's intended interference. It was becoming clearer and clearer the longer his sister mentally plotted.
"No," he said to Bella, "that's not what we talked about, and I will not subject you to Alice's plans." He looked at Alice, a challenge in his eyes.
"Bella?" Alice wheedled, "please? You love me—right?" here she returned Edward's hard gaze, as if to say, unlike my brother, "I know you trust me to do this perfectly."
Bella looked at Edward, and his resistance melted. "Is this what you want?" he asked.
"I think," she said softly, wishing only he would hear, "that you want a real wedding, and so will the rest of our family."
He frowned, hearing her deference to his wants. "Is it what you want, though?"
She smiled, most convincingly, "I love you. I'm kinda invested in what you want, too." To Alice, she added, without moving her gaze from Edward's, "but we get veto power."
"Thank you!" Alice squealed, "this will be the best wedding ever!" Then she disappeared, leaving Bella and Edward the pretense of privacy, and at least, some quiet.
He looked at her conspiratorially, whispering dramatically, murmuring into her lips, "all I need is a word, and we're off to Vegas. I can keep her from seeing it coming."
"No you can't!" Alice called from somewhere in the house, audible even to Bella.
They both chuckled, and she took advantage of the moment to lean into him, pressing her face against the coolness of his shirt. Her lips felt sore, and the chill of his body was soothing.
"Come on," he said, "we need to get going soon if we're going to meet Jacob on time."
Edward was momentarily confused by Bella's sudden bodily rigidity.
"You're still so worked up about this, aren't you?" he asked. "I promise," he said, "everything will be fine. Now that the wolves are helping," his hand gestured expansively, "really, just fine." He kissed her forehead.
Bella's nod was mechanical. She could feel things starting to bubble in her mind, images and sensations that were dangerous to combine. Memories she could not afford.
Expensive consequences whose very suggestion terrified her.
She clamped down on the bubbling stew, and forced herself to only think of the next minute, and then the next one, staying solely in the present, and near future.
She was with Edward, she reminded herself, and her body relaxed instinctively. She was safe with him.
It was easy to detach her anxiety, with him, at least momentarily.
He'd moved on from the basic camping gear, and was now grabbing dehydrated food packs.
"Ew," Bella said, making a face at them.
"Want to eat here?" he asked. She knew he would make her a four course meal if she even suggested she did.
"No, I'm sure it'll be fine. Not really hungry."
With a soft squeeze on her supposedly good hand, his touch sent angry sparks up her arm.
Don't react, she told herself. Nothing happened, so nothing can hurt.
He carried her, his arms familiarly cold around her, the time gliding past them unnoticed. This ended abruptly, when Edward said, almost to himself, "Jacob should be—" and then a few minutes later, she could see him, standing ahead of them.
Nothing happened, she told herself. Nothing will happen. Everything will be fine.
Everything will be fine.
She didn't even hear their hostile conversation, she was so occupied with her own mantra, and Edward's kiss and murmured words were just feelings and sounds. Then he was gone.
"Hey Bella," Jacob said cheerily. "How're things goin'?"
She blinked.
She was beginning to wonder if she'd imagined everything that she wasn't letting herself remember.
Then Jacob picked her up, and began to run, still talking to her as if this was just one of their normal conversations.
She made appropriate sounds, she thought, at appropriate intervals. Her heart was thudding, breathing shallow.
When he put her down in a small scramble of trees, she blinked at him, not understanding. "Is this it?"
"No," he chuckled, "but we're alone. I wanted to have a chance to talk."
Then he kissed her, hands on either side of her face, gentle, but hot against the cold air.
She pulled away, too frightened to speak. He wouldn't. Not here. Not now.
Not happening.
"You haven't told him," Jacob said, arms akimbo, one knee partly bent as he rested his weight. Then he moved towards her again.
Bella backed up into a tree, panic making her stumble into her sore hand.
"We should go," Bella said, voice uneven, "he's expecting us."
"We will," Jacob said gently. He waited a moment, watching her, concern growing on his face. "You have choices, Bella. You don't have to. You know how I feel. And you know how you feel, now," he added, running his fingers down her cheek.
The wedge in his forehead deepened, "I'm sorry...I'm sorry it hurt," he said, "I should have said that yesterday. I was just—"
Bella was having trouble focusing. Breathing. He was sorry? That it hurt? That he—
Nothing happened, she told herself. Nothing happened. It was like stuffing too many clothes into suitcase, if you sat on it long enough, sweating with the strain of forcing it all down, you could just—just—close the zipper on it.
That was what it felt like now.
Don't open it, she told herself.
"I shouldn't have rushed it," Jacob said, fingers still too intimate with her face.
He attributed her nerves to the same feelings he was battling. The want. The frisson of it made his skin flame even more.
Bella had closed her eyes, and this only convinced him more.
Then his lips were at hers again, his tongue forcing itself inward, an imitation of the act he'd performed the day before.
The urge to vomit would have won out if he hadn't pulled back suddenly.
"But you're right. We should go. I don't want him to be suspicious. Not today." Then he grinned. "Or tomorrow, I suppose."
Bella let a shiver run up her back, clamping down on the other things that wanted feeling.
"Come on," Jacob said, reaching out to pick her up again. She didn't move, and he stepped forward more, his movement swift, making her startle as he lifted her.
"You need to relax," Jacob said, starting to jog, "some of us might think you didn't have confidence in our abilities. Hmm?" He grinned, not needing an answer, but not liking her tight lips, or pale skin.
There was little more conversation, as Bella tried to shrink inwards, imagining the flesh of her body numb, unable to feel Jacob's heat permeating her clothing.
Part of this was simply an awareness of the dropping temperature. The clouds sweeping in from the south were purple, and menacing.
Part of was just necessary.
Utterly necessary.
When they arrived at the camp, Jacob put her down, and she had to find her feet first, before she could walk unsteadily towards Edward.
They were talking, but she wasn't paying attention. All that mattered to her was that Edward's arms found her, she leaning into him.
"Let's get inside the tent," he said softly. When she didn't respond, he repeated himself. "Bella?" he finally asked. "It's getting cold." He felt a twist of anxiety, seeing her own.
The temperature did nothing but drop, the only heat coming from the continued, and fiery verbal exchange between Edward and Jacob.
As the night came on, Bella climbed into the sleeping bag, beginning to shiver and shake almost as soon as the sun went down. The wind, snapping at the edges of the tent, was the only sound that surpassed the chatter of her teeth.
By early morning, Edward was crouched as far away from her as possible, terrified to chill her further by so much as breathing. He'd tried to convince her to leave several times, but she knew it would mean returning with Jacob.
She couldn't do that again.
No.
In her dim awareness of the noises around her, she heard the tent flap unzip.
"That wasn't what I meant," Edward growled, as Jacob entered.
As soon as he rezipped the flap, Jacob leaned back lightly against one of the tent poles, dropping the jacket he'd carried in on the floor. "If you have a better idea, feel free to share."
Edward's growl was wordless this time.
"Bella?" Jacob asked.
"W-h-a-a-a-a—?" She started, choking on the single syllable, almost biting on her tongue.
"I can warm you up," he said softly.
She made another chattered sound. This one interpreted disparately by the two other creatures near her.
"No!" Edward hissed, feral and possessive.
"Wasn't asking you," Jacob said, still standing nonchalantly.
The growl grew again.
"Sure she won't need toes," Jacob muttered. "But if she gets sick—that's on you." He turned, as if to go.
This was too much for Edward. She couldn't be sick. Not for the sake of anything. Not his vanity.
Or his jealousy.
"Bella," he asked softly, risking coming closer. "What do you want to do?"
"S-t-a-a-a-y," she rasped, teeth clicking together.
"Scoot over," Jacob said, tone still even and dry.
The shivers continued, but her jaw clamped shut, feeling him slide in behind her.
Nothing happened, she told herself. Nothing. Nothing to remember.
But Jacob's arms tightened around her, one at her stomach, and the other sliding downwards, finding its resting spot beneath the waistband of her jeans.
Edward looked up sharply, lip curling, "control. Your. Thoughts," he said, voice low and clipped.
"Jealous much?" Jacob grinned.
Edward didn't rise to the bait, but watched him through narrowed eyes.
"D-o-n-n-n't!" Bella said, terrified of the fight that could erupt so easily.
Edward didn't move at all, only speaking when another howl announced the arrival of another wolf.
"Seth's here," he said, more for Bella's benefit than Jacob's.
"Great," Jacob said, "you head on out, and I'll keep your girlfriend warm for you."
A low purr of a growl was the only answer.
Jacob's few other quips were met with similar responses, and he finally gave up, enjoying the feel of Bella's body under his hands.
Edward frowned when Bella's shivers didn't completely abate, rattling on and off as the night wore on.
By the morning, Jacob had released his grip, but she sweltered in the newly warmed air. Her attempts to dislodge Jacob's grip were useless, and she made herself look at Edward, fighting the too easy panic that wanted to pick her up and shake her.
"Help," she said, reprimanding herself at the feeling that found its way into the word.
Edward was there instantly, ripping the sleeping bag off of them, picking up Bella, and dumping Jacob onto the cold ground in one smooth motion.
"Hey!" Jacob yelled, on his feet instantly.
Edward pushed Bella behind him, a snarl at his teeth. He had no patience for this creature, despite how he'd kept her warm.
Bella was horrified, and transfixed.
She couldn't move, or speak, seeing the chasm opening up in front of her. If they fought—now, if they began this, then all the work, all the hope for safety—
"NO!" she managed, the word blurted out with a choked cry, tears flooding her eyes, her throat constricting in a sob.
Both of them froze, turning to her, so acutely attuned to her distress.
Edward took her hand, "everything's fine," he said gently, "I'm sorry this upset you."
She shook her head, trying to press everything back down. She twitched when his hand met hers at first, but then forced herself to relax her muscles. He mustn't suspect, she intoned silently.
"Later," Jacob muttered, sickened by the sight of his hands on her. Grabbing the sleeping bag, he went outside.
Edward breathed out a sigh, holding her hands. "Tonight," he said softly, "you will not have anything to worry about. Just remember that."
Bella nodded, making the muscles contract and relax at will.
Edward spoke again, but the words were soft and undemanding, swimming over her. She caught few of them. Three, though, were distinct enough to snag on the cracked edges of her mind.
"...future Mrs. Cullen."
Then there was an ear-splitting, and broken howl that ripped through the small clearing.
Bella went white, hands clenching at Edward's. "Jacob—?" she asked, looking at him.
Edward nodded, but his brow furrowed, seeing the distress on her face. "He needs to know, Bella," he admonished her.
"Now?" Bella asked, imagining what this would drive him to. What if he—oh God, what if he showed Edward what had happened? Or turned on the Cullens mid battle? What if—and then she realized that she couldn't wait to find out.
"JACOB!" she called, running from the tent, imagining the worst. Imagining all of them dead.
Her rationality had been left, well battered, somewhere on Jacob's bed, and fear was now the primary operator of her mind.
"Bella," Edward said, following close behind, "he's left."
She crouched, hands in her hair, pulling at it.
"He needed to know," Edward said again, feeling a guilty twist, seeing the effect this had on her.
"I need to see him," she said, "he can't leave, not like this—what if, what—?" she couldn't finish it, but started towards the edge of the woods, intending to find him herself.
"Stop," Edward said, and then again, more loudly, finally putting his hands at her shoulders. "Do you want me to go get him?"
The way he said it, Bella knew this pained him, far beyond what she could see.
A clutching guilt squeezed her insides. She didn't deserve him. Not in the slightest.
"Yes," she said, feeling the memories starting to rattle in their cage.
She squatted again, counting breaths while he was gone. She was almost at two-hundred by the time she heard Jacob's footsteps.
When she stood, Edward came close, but didn't touch her. "Seth and I," he started, voice full of a feeling she didn't recognize, "we'll leave. Give you some privacy."
Didn't deserve him. No.
When he was sure they were alone, Jacob stepped forward, inches from her. "What?" he asked. "What more could you possibly have to tell me? Say to me?"
What indeed?
"Please," she said, feeling the tremble that seemed to be the new, and natural accompaniment to being with Jacob, "don't do anything reckless."
He laughed. "Reckless? Like what, tell him?" he asked. "'Fraid it might ruin your wedding plans?"
She blanched, the pain at the thought of losing Edward, again, pulling apart that tenuous stitching that held that emptiness at bay.
"Not today, no," she whispered.
Jacob looked up at her, hope blossoming in his eyes. "You're not going through with the wedding?"
"I don't think so, no," she whispered, holding down the tears.
Then he pulled her into an embrace that made all the hurts he'd given her sing, their keening whine a dull throbbing in her ears.
"Please," she said, air scarce under his pressure, "I don't want anyone hurt."
"Of course not," he said, lessening his grip.
She took a deep breath in, and then immediately regretted it. Her ribs felt like they'd been stabbed.
"But give me something to come back for," he said, voice deep and wanting.
She looked at him, not understanding.
"Give me something to come back for," he said again.
She didn't want to entertain what he was suggesting.
"Ask me to kiss you," he said. "And mean it."
She felt stupid, staring at him. "You want me—"
"To ask me to kiss you, yes," he said, brushing her hair from her face. "I'll be good as gold, if you do."
She swallowed. "Then kiss me, please," feeling the shudder in her stomach.
He put his hands at her back and head, pulling her to a kiss she didn't want. She squeezed her eyes shut, hoping this was the last time she would feel him this way.
The thought, that his death would be the only one she could tolerate danced, horrific, and ugly, across her mind.
He let her go, just as suddenly as he'd gripped her.
She watched him step back, transform, and bound away, his movements lithe and energetic. Then she stumbled back to the tent, finding the sleeping bag Jacob had discarded.
Burying herself in it, she curled into the smallest shape she could manage, wanting to give free reign to the numbness that was just as eager to take her.
"Bella?" Edward asked softly, kneeling in front of her.
She didn't respond, beyond swallowing. She could barely stomach herself, let alone him her.
"And I thought I played dirty," he mumbled, almost a throaty chuckle.
This made no sense.
"What?" she asked.
"His thoughts were...loud," he said.
Bella's back became rigid, imagining the worst.
"He was very smug," he said, "that he'd suggested he might do something reckless, if you didn't, and that you'd believed him."
"Oh," Bella said. It seemed sufficiently noncommittal. Safe.
Edward had picked her up, keeping her curled shape, but in his arms, "you have no artifice, Bella, you're quick to believe anyone with the least skill there."
He didn't know.
Thank God.
"I'm sorry," she said.
He shook his head. "You have nothing to be sorry for. I love you."
She shivered in relief.
And then suddenly, they were flying, the tent disappearing. From behind him, because she realized now he was crouched defensively, she could see, just emerging from the shadows of the woods, a shimmer of bright red curls.
Victoria.
