For what felt like the fifth time he'd said as much, Edward told her again, "you don't have to do this."

"Kinda got that," she said, smiling wanly, taking a sip of her tea.

They were at the dining room table, purportedly a few minutes away from leaving. She felt, for the first time in days, remarkably well, or, at least not ill. She'd showered by herself, dressed unaided, and was now eating, nausea threatening, but only distantly. She'd begrudgingly admitted that the IV had helped, and hoped she wouldn't need another one.

"Sorry," Edward said, "I'm not doing any good by doubting what you want."

"No," she smiled more energetically, "you're not."

He pulled her casted hand over, kissing it, then looking more closely at it. "You ready to lose this?" he asked, tapping the plaster lightly.

"Can I?" she asked, "seems soon."

"I think you could just have a brace, for now," he murmured, turning her hand lightly. "But Carlisle'll know better." Putting it down gently, he pretended to glance at the clock. A well established human habit. "If you're ready, we should go, though."

"Sure," Bella said, standing.

Edward made himself not rush to her side, letting her find her balance.

In the garage, she paused, a hand on her truck, drumming her fingers there.

Edward raised his eyebrows, wondering if she wanted to drive it.

"Is this worth anything?" she asked, looking up at him.

"Something, certainly," he said, wondering where she was going with this.

"Can we sell it, then?"

Edward would prefer to send it over a cliff, but kept his thoughts to himself. "If you want to, yes," he said instead.

"I'd like Billy to have the money from it," she murmured. "He doesn't have any help right now—" She stopped, her voice tight with emotion. "I know Dad got a deal on it, because of their friendship. Seems like the right thing to do," she finished in a hushed breath.

The confused swirl of emotions in Edward's chest made him pull her into his arms, as gently as he could. It didn't surprise him that she was thinking of other people, but that she was thinking of Billy, did. Her compassion never ceased to amaze him. The Black daughter didn't live at home anymore, he knew, and BIlly truly would be on his own. The money from the truck would a pittance, considering his physical needs, but perhaps Jasper could arrange for the truck to find a generous buyer.

"Anything you want," Edward said.

"Thank you," she whispered, "but we should get going."

He nodded, taking her hand, letting her decide which side of the Volvo to get into. When she chose the passenger side, he was relieved. He wasn't sure she was quite up to the attention driving required yet. Not that he would let anything happen to her, but he didn't want her confidence shaken further.

Parked in front of the station, Bella let out a nervous breath.

"You don't have to do this," Edward reminded her again.

Bella knew no justice would come of this complaint, but the motions of it would allow her father some way to try to redeem himself, at least in his own eyes, if not hers.

"Let's go," she said, opening the door.

At the desk, the receptionist smiled at Bella, recognizing her, but a bit perplexed by the tenseness in her face. "I'll get your Dad, Bella," she said, moving back to find him.

"Hey," Charlie called, walking up to the front, suddenly nervous himself. "You came."

Bella nodded, her body tight, and lacking in the give it needed to move.

"Come on in," he said, motioning to the back.

Edward took Bella's hand, and they followed, sitting across from each other at the table in the station's one, small interview room.

"Do you want me to take your statement, or Mike?" Charlie asked. Seeing Bella look down nervously, he waited a moment, saying softly, "would it be easier to talk to Mike, Bella?"

She swallowed, nodding. Her voice felt like it had disappeared.

Overhearing their conversation, Mike callled over, "Just a sec, Chief, I'll be right there."

"Sure," Charlie said, pulling out a file.

It had her name on it, already.

But it was the wrong one.

Charlie had it set on the table in front of them, along with a pen, and Bella pulled it over towards her, scratching out Swan, and writing Cullen instead.

Then she pushed it back towards Charlie, swallowing, staring at him. She and Edward's hands were linked on the table, her wedding ring in plain sight.

He'd seen it yesterday, but knew he had no right to ask.

"Oh," he said, keeping his voice as even as he could. "I'm….sorry I missed that," he added, making his mouth smile at them, his eyes contradicting it. "Congratulations," he offered, as genuinely as he could, meeting each of their gazes, as he fingered the folder.

After swallowing, and shoving all of his feelings deep down inside him, he explained what information they would need for her statement, in order to start an official complaint.

"You need to know, Bella," Charlie said, "that there's almost no chance of this going to court." He paused, looking at her, "But he won't know that, and it lets us go after him."

"I understand," she said. He'd told her enough of the wearying and grim statistics before.

Mike had finished with his phone call, and came into the room. Charlie took this as his cue to leave, standing, nodding his temporary farewell, trying to hide the anxious look in his eyes.

It was Mike's turn to pause, seeing at the paperwork Charlie had begun.

Jesus.

He wouldn't be so calm if it was his daughter coming in to report a sexual assault.

With her new husband.

Edward could read his shock as clearly as if he'd spoken it, but Bella only saw a calm exterior. When the next thought arrived, Edward bristled.

"I'd prefer if you could speak to me alone, Ms. Cullen," he said softly, apologetically. "It's hard to talk about this. Harder when your partner's listening, and it's important you don't censor yourself."

Edward was opening his mouth to say no, when Bella spoke, "I think that'd be better." She was staring at the table, not wanting to meet Edward's eyes.

She could feel his hand on hers, "I'll be fine," she said.

It was a long moment before he spoke. "OK," he said standing, looking at her worriedly. "I'll be just outside."

"Try not to listen, please," she whispered.

He hadn't told her that he'd already seen, and he didn't want to now. It'd been so much to tell her yesterday, it felt like kindness sparing her that, but he would have to tell her.

"Alright," he said softly, and slipped quietly out of the room.

Charlie was standing at the filing cabinet closest to the waiting area, as far away from the interview room as he could get. From the strangled quality of his thoughts, Edward knew he was doing his best not to listen to, or think about what Bella was talking about.

So was Edward, but with far less success.

He was avoiding the deputy's thoughts, but that didn't obscure the perfectly audible conversation unfolding some twenty feet from him.

He was learning that Jacob had not shown all of what he'd done to the pack.

"Maybe you should sit down."

"Pardon?" Edward said, looking at Charlie, who clearly had spoken to him.

"You look a little...unwell," Charlie said, still pretending to file things.

Edward sat on one of the chairs, trying to settle into the receptionist's pedantic thoughts. She was making a meal plan in her head, while running through the updates needed for their state emergency services coordination directory.

"When did you get married?" Charlie asked, not able to hold onto the question anymore.

Looking up at him, Edward answered cooly, "Monday."

Nodding, Charlie kept pretending to file. "Your parents know?"

Edward wanted to punish him with his words, tell him that they'd been there—that their entire family had been present, because Bella was terrified Charlie would use his legal influence to constrain or compel her again. But, he knew his wife's compassion, and only said "yes."

"Was it because of what I did?" Charlie asked. He'd stopped filing now, and was looking at the carpet, scuffing a raw part of it with his boot.

Edward imagined skewering him with a yes, watching him wince with the pain of it.

Right now, his wife was describing Jacob's—third? fourth?—assault on her, when Charlie had taken her to the reserve.

Her voice was soft, and she was explaining, that no, the people there hadn't realized what Jacob had done. What he'd continued to do.

So compassionate.

Even as much as Charlie had violated his daughter's trust, her will, Edward knew she loved him, grieved for what had been broken between them. Hurting Charlie would only add to it.

"I asked her to marry me months ago," Edward said, not mentioning that she hadn't said yes until the week before. "But the timing, yes, she was afraid you might try to...exert your influence again."

Charlie nodded, taking his time to ask the next question. "Does her mother know? About any of this?"

"No," Edward said. He'd asked Bella if she wanted to tell her, and she'd looked at him, horrified, a vociferous 'no' on her lips.

Charlie seemed to agree with Bella. It would only cause problems to inform Renee.

Edward sat, and Charlie stood, each a prisoner to their own thoughts, waiting, each trying not to listen in their own way.

"What will you do?" Edward asked, already knowing, but wondering what Charlie would tell him. Testing his honesty.

"Put out a bulletin on his car, a description, phone around. Use my contacts. Go to the res. Interview people. I think Sam, and Emily will be willing to help, all things considered," he said.

Edward nodded, and then closed his eyes, hearing what his wife was saying.

"And if you find him?" he asked, imagining what he himself would do.

Charlie looked at him, his face translated, lines grim and hard. He was deciding what to say. What was prudent. He wasn't sure if he trusted Edward's youth, so he chose his words carefully. "I would use every tool at my disposal to deliver justice."

The thoughts that married these words were as dark as the ones Edward entertained himself.

He nodded, acknowledging Charlie's speech.

Mike was opening the door.

Edward stood, anxious to see Bella. Mike had gestured she wait, quietly calling Charlie over.

"Just a second," Charlie said, seeing Edward moving to follow him.

"No," Edward said, following. "You can talk to us both." He wasn't leaving Bella alone with her father, not until she told him to. And even then...only for the sake of human pretense.

She was pale again, Edward could see, and gripped her hand tightly when he sat back down. Her breathing and heart rate told him more than enough about her level of anxiety.

Charlie was watching her with concern. "I won't keep you long," he said, "but I want to thank you for coming, all things considered. I'll call you with anything I find."

Good, Edward thought. That might prove useful.

Then Charlie said what he'd wanted only for Bella's ears. "Bella," he said, "this won't end with a trial, or a judge. But it will end." He didn't say how, but he looked at her, willing his meaning to be clear.

Edward looked at Bella, who understood, eyebrows pinching together. "Don't do anything dangerous, Dad," she said, "that won't make anything better." She was imagining a confrontation between him and Jacob, and it not ending well for her father.

"Think I can handle myself," Charlie mumbled.

Edward squeezed her hand, trying to reassure her. They had their own plans to find Jacob Black. The chances of her father finding him were barely negligible, they were so slim.

When Bella stood, she looked down to pick up her jacket, not seeing Charlie's hand coming to lightly touch her arm. As it moved into her peripheral vision, she started violently, almost tripping over the chair behind her. Edward caught her easily, but the tightness in her face, the crinkled pull of her eyebrows spoke eloquently of her fear.

"Sorry," Charlie said, dropping his hand away, his expression coloured with distress. He moved to step back, and this too made Bella jerk her hands up again.

"Let's go home," Edward murmured, curling his posture around hers, making a soft C with his arms, trying to get her to start walking towards the door.

"'K," Bella said, swallowing, staring at the table, like she was talking herself into it.

They left without any more words of farewell, and Charlie watched, carving the guilt into his chest with the image of her shrinking form.

He would find Jacob Black, and return every hurt and fear to him, one way, or another.

Bella made it to the car before she let out the first choked sob.

"It's OK," Edward said, putting his arms around her, wishing they were somewhere more private, than Charlie's work doorstep.

The tremble wasn't noticeable to human eyes, but Edward could feel every vibration in her frame. When he asked her again, if she wanted to go home, she only nodded, becoming silent in the car. She kept her good hand to her mouth, half curled, as if to prevent the utterance of more sound.

At the house, she got out of the car, and paced in the garage, arms tight around herself, and then loose, as if she was uncertain of what felt best.

She hadn't noticed Rose, her still form under the Jeep, but Rose had certainly noticed her.

"What do you need, Bella?" Edward asked.

She only shook her head, pacing, heart rate climbing.

"Bella," he tried again, "why don't we go inside?"

"No," she said too quickly, knowing that he wanted her to lay down.

Rose's voice surprised them both.

"Out," she said, scooting out from under the Jeep. "Not you," she said to Bella, gently. "You," she said, jutting her chin at Edward. "Out." She pointed, just to make sure she was clear.

Edward faced her, growling quietly.

Do you want me to help her, or not? Rose asked wordlessly.

He pulled in a reluctant breath, turning to Bella for his answer.

She nodded, still pacing, hands still uncertain, so that when she looked up next, it was Rose who stood before her, Edward gone.