A/N: The aftermath of the fight, Nessie-style. Does anybody else feel like this after a big fight with somebody important? I surely do.

This is a really long chapter, with a lot of description and introspection on Nessie's part… and not a whole lot of dialogue. Sorry if that's not your thing. But I think it's really important that we know what's happening inside her head… we've already got a pretty good idea about what's up on Jacob's end of things.

Also, regarding Bella… distance lends perspective. She's working on her feelings, and she's making progress. That's all I'm gonna say, for now.

Thanks for reading! Reviewers will all get responses (eventually) and maybe even some hints about future chapters!

Enjoy!

~Crit.

Chapter 10: Dream a Little Dream of Me

Renesmee shrank like a wilting flower against her closed bedroom door. It had taken every ounce of energy inside of her to stand up to Jacob, to confront him the way she had, and she felt drained, depleted and heartsick. There were times that she enjoyed a good argument: with her parents, with Emmett, and especially with Seth, who could bicker with her for hours and then snap out of it, order himself a pizza and invite her to the wolf house for coffee and Monty Python.

Then there were fights with Jacob. Whenever they argued, Renesmee came out on top, but somehow winning never felt good. Maybe it was the fact that, after his initial burst of self-righteousness, Jacob always caved in, saying and doing whatever he thought it would take to make her happy again. Maybe it was that she knew he probably wouldn't keep his promises to behave better next time, no matter how much he'd meant them to begin with. Or maybe it was that she always had a momentary, unrealistic fear that this would be the fight that tore them apart for good; that she would say something that finally broke Jacob's infinite devotion to their friendship. Just the thought of their friendship disappearing was enough to send Renesmee into a panic attack.

She sat there on her floor and took several deep, gasping breaths of air, willing herself not to cry like a silly baby. On the one hand, she was still so angry at Jacob for treating her like a child and thinking her could pick her friends for her that she wanted to get up, go back into his room, and rant at him some more.

But on the other hand… it was Jacob, her best friend, her confidant, her number one fan. Her other half. Her entire world felt wrong when things weren't right with them, like her hands had been removed and stitched back onto the wrong arms. She hated it more than she could think about. And the worst of it was, given the choice between letting Jacob steamroll over any other friendships she might have in her life, and losing him all together for the sake of those same friendships, Renesmee knew that she would chose Jacob without hesitation, every single time. It made her sick to think about it, and she wondered if this time, finally, he might be true to his word and be fair to her. She really didn't have an answer. After a few minutes, she rose again and walked to her bathroom, tiredly pulling off her clothes as she went.

A half hour later, freshly showered and dressed in a crisp new pair of soft jersey pajamas, Renesmee still didn't feel a whole lot better, but she decided that she was actually tired enough to get to sleep at a decent hour for once (decent by somebody's standards, anyhow, seeing as it was two a.m.). She crawled beneath her covers and lay there, her extra-keen eyes tracing patterns on the ceiling as she waited for sleep to put her momentarily out of her misery.

Seth was on the beach at La Push, standing in his bare feet, a pair of board shorts and a cotton undershirt, swinging a boy around in a circle by his tiny arms. On a blanket a little way off, beneath the shade of some large trees near the sand line, sat a woman Renesmee had never seen, a little girl, and Jacob. The woman had the girl in her lap, and was smoothing down masses of jet-black ringlets into two darling french braids, one on either side of her tiny head, while Jacob looked on with a familiar expression on his face. Renesmee stood somewhere between Seth and the little boy and the picnic blanket, and as her eyes locked onto Jacob, she felt her chest tighten. An angry heat flushed through her body. That was HER look on Jacob's face, that look of utter devotion and admiration, aimed at these two strange girls, one big and one tiny. She was right there, but he didn't even see her, he was too busy looking on as the woman played and laughed with her child. Renesmee eyed the strange woman carefully. She was completely focused on the child in her lap, braiding the coarse hair with long, nimble fingers. She had pale, milky skin, light brown hair and narrow green eyes that crinkled pleasantly at the corners when she smiled. Her full lips and adorably snubbed nose completed a rather stunning picture, Renesmee noted with a sinking feeling. She was definitely human. As for the little girl, she was about five years old, round-cheeked and dimpled with dark shining eyes and a smiling mouth full of too-large teeth. She had dark skin the colour of milky coffee and Renesmee figured it was probably a safe bet she was part Quileute. Part Jacob, too, if the way he was looking at the child was any indication. Renesmee's heart was turning over and over in her chest. Seeing Jacob like this, with a kid or maybe two by another woman, made everything fall into place inside her head, and she realized with a jolt that she couldn't bear it. It was wrong, seeing Jacob with this woman, so happy, smiling like everything was right with the world. Except it wasn't. Where was SHE?

"Daddy!" Renesmee's attention snapped in the direction of Seth and the little boy, who was now launching himself at top speed towards Jacob. Her heart sank even further. This little boy, perhaps a year or two younger than the girl, was definitely Jacob's son. She watched as Jacob rose up onto his knees and flung his arms out in either direction, ready to catch the boy as he ran at him. Jacob's son had the same dark eyes and warm skin tone as the little girl, and Renesmee had to admit now that both children almost certainly belonged to him.

Seth reached the blanket at a much more leisurely jog and sat down across from Jacob, the kids, and the strange woman, who was now pulling some food out of a basket behind her. Renesmee wanted to look away, to run or hide or do anything at all that would allow her to escape this blissful scene. Seth was saying something to the woman that she couldn't hear, and her response was to lightly smack him on the knee with a laugh and a shake of her head, as if she knew him very well. MY PACK, Renesmee thought territorially, MY JACOB. She almost snarled at the thought of this strange person having a life that should have been hers.

She felt she knew for certain exactly what had happened. One too many arguments, one too many struggles for independence, and Jacob had finally drawn the line. He'd done whatever it was he had to do to put enough distance between them that he wouldn't end up wounded by her every time they fought, and the end result had been this: a happy life with someone new who obviously fit in with his pack, and two beautiful children. She felt herself close to tears… Jacob deserved to be happy, but she couldn't bear to see herself so completely absent from his life. She hadn't ever really been able to imagine either of their lives without the other, until now, when she saw it with her own eyes. It was horrible. Where was she?

As if on cue, Seth looked up from a piece of watermelon he'd been devouring and said, "Hey, where'd you say Nessie was today?" he took another bite. "Waves are perfect… I bet she'd love to be on a board right about now." Renesmee felt herself tearing up… Seth, at least, was thinking about her.

"I'm right here!" Renesmee tried to shout at them but the words dried up and fell dead before they even left her throat. She waved her arms, but they didn't see. And when she tried to move towards them, she found herself frozen in place.

Jacob, who was working on getting the boy to keep his own watermelon in his mouth and off his shirt, didn't look up as he said. "Who even knows," He said distractedly. "I think she said something about hunting with her uncles, but I can't remember the details… I kinda had my hands full." At this, he gestured with his one (momentarily) free hand to both of the children. The woman laughed.

The stranger leaned forward and tweaked the little boy's nose, then landed a light slap on Jacob's arm. "You're not a handful, are you Charlie?" She said to the little boy, who giggled in response. Renesmee felt an angry, surging heat rush through her body. How DARE they? It was bad enough that Jacob had bred with this woman, but to name their son after HER grandfather? Enraged, she tried again to rush forward, and this time the strange force that had been holding her in place gave way and she moved, FAST. When she started forward, the little girl looked up and took off from the blanket, moving towards her. Renesmee tried to stop herself as she realized they were going to collide, but the momentum she'd built was too great. She braced herself for the impact, her heart stopping at the thought that she might harm Jacob's child, but instead of the painful crash she'd anticipated, she looked down to find herself with her arms around the little girl, who seemed perfectly whole and healthy. The impact with Renesmee's hard, unbreakable body would have practically crushed any normal, human child, but this girl remained utterly undisturbed. In fact, she seemed happy as she turned her face up to look at Renesmee. At the sight of her dark, disturbingly familiar eyes, Renesmee froze like a deer in headlights.

"Mommy!" The little girl cried, "You're back!"

Renesmee awoke with a loud gasp, clutching her chest, to find she'd flown bolt upright into a sitting position in the middle of her bed. The first thing she noticed was that she was, in fact, alone in bed in her New York loft and not standing on a beach in Washington with a small child in her arms. The second thing she noticed, mere seconds later, was the sound of loud footsteps in the hallway outside of her door. An urgent set of knocks followed.

"Nessie?" Came Jacob's voice, "Are you okay?"

She tried to answer, but no sound came out at first. She cleared her throat and tried again, "I'm fine, Jake… I'm okay," she called, feeling as though she was anything but. There was a moment of silence, and then Jacob spoke up again.

"What's wrong? You don't sound okay." Renesmee was about to tell him to come in and see for himself, but then she remembered with a jolt that she was supposed to be mad at him.

"Well I am," she said, a little more briskly than intended. "Just… go back to bed."

"It's all right… I'm not tired," Jacob said, and Renesmee wasn't sure if he was talking to her or just thinking out loud.

"Well I'm exhausted," she lied, "So I'm just going to go back to sleep, and I'll see you in a while."

Another pause. "Okay," Jacob responded, sounding a bit defeated. A few moments later, she heard the sound of his footsteps, much slower now, retreating in the direction of his own room.

Renesmee fell back against her pillows and stared, once again, at the ceiling. There was absolutely no way she was going back to sleep. Not after that dream. She replayed the final seconds in her mind: the big brown eyes, so like her own, the sweet, loving expression on the little girl's face as she looked up at her and called her "Mommy". It all fell into place inside Renesmee's head. Those were not Jacob's children with some stranger; they were Jacob's children with her.

Why had she dreamed this? And why had her brain presented it in such a misleading way? This was no normal dream… the feelings she'd experienced were too real, too raw, not felt through the gentle haze of sleep. She recalled her desperation, her sorrow, her rage at the thought of Jacob and the mystery woman being man and wife, having a family, a life apart from her. Then she remembered the surge of pure joy she'd experienced when, in the moment before waking, the real situation had been revealed and she realized that those were, in fact, her children, hers and Jacob's together. A feeling of intense rightness, such as she'd never experienced before. And, even though she'd only known that feeling for a moment before being brought back to consciousness, Renesmee missed it as keenly as if it had been real, as if she'd really had that family, and Jacob.

Jacob.

Renesmee found herself clutching her bedsheets so hard that her fingers went stiff. She felt like she'd slammed headfirst into a brick wall; it had been there all along, but she'd been so busy ignoring it that she'd wrecked herself by barreling straight at it.

How could she have been so stupid? The wonderful feeling of understanding that had always flowed between them, the wretched way she felt when he was unhappy with her, the way she always wanted to be next to him when he was nearby and how, when he was further away, she constantly thought about things she would tell him later: it was the stuff of so many novels, movies and plays, and she couldn't believe she'd never realized it before. She was in love with Jacob.

She was trembling forcefully with the implications of what she'd just realized. This was Jacob, her best friend and only real confidant, whom just a few hours ago she'd basically told to butt out of her life. He'd known her since she was born. He was practically family. And she'd always suspected that there had, at one time, been something between him and her mother. They'd played together when she was a child… until very, very recently she'd been known to ride on his back while he was in wolf form. He'd changed her diapers… he'd seen her naked. She'd seen him naked. It was just too weird.

Suddenly, Renesmee wished she'd never thought about nudity and Jacob at the same time. It was as though she'd flipped a switch, and now she found herself unable to flip it back, and thoughts of his beautiful skin stretched over taut muscles came floating to the forefront of her mind unbidden. She had to think of something else, she knew, or there'd be hell to pay. It didn't matter that there was nobody in the vicinity who could hear her thoughts; one day she was bound to be in the same room as her father again, and if she allowed herself to think about Jacob that way, ever, she wouldn't be able to control when the thoughts came back.

She thought back again to the dream. The mystery woman was now an even greater mystery, as Renesmee now knew she wasn't Jacob's dream-wife. Why had her mind put that woman there? Was she simply a composite of Renesmee's opposite qualities: mild, blonde, willowy and human? Maybe she would pick up a book at the university library on dream interpretation. But she thought she'd already pretty much figured out the point her subconscious was trying to make. It was a wake up call, one meant to bring her feelings for Jacob to the forefront and point out that, if she wasn't careful, she'd end up losing him to someone else. Renesmee clenched her jaw and remembered the horrible feeling she'd had when she thought Jacob was in love with someone else. It was like her body had been cleaved in two. It was so unfathomable and so painful that Renesmee knew she'd never survive it in real life. Was that love? How did anybody stand it?

It was too much for her to handle. She'd seen many things in her life. At seventeen human years of age, she thought and acted more like a woman in her mid-twenties. She was extremely well-educated and had been given the best of everything, opportunities and adventures that most people wouldn't even be able to imagine. And none of it had prepared her in the slightest for the way she felt now.

Her cell phone was in her hand before she even realized she'd reached for it, and she had dialed and hit send before she got a good chance to think it over. Her call was answered quickly after the first ring.

"Renesmee," her father's voice said sharply, "What's wrong?"

Tears sprang immediately to her eyes at the sound of his voice. His concern was so typical, so ridiculous and so normal, and she felt a wave of fond emotion wash over her as she said, "Nothing, Dad. Don't worry, everything's fine." There was a long pause from the other end of the line.

"Are you aware that it's four in the morning?" he said, sounding as if he didn't believe her. Renesmee smiled wistfully.

"I know. I didn't figure it would matter that much to you," she said pointedly. She heard her father's soft, familiar chuckle and she relaxed… his suspicion was ebbing. "Um, listen… I actually was wondering if I could talk to mom."

"Of course," her father said, and Renesmee thought she heard just the tiniest bit of disappointment in his voice. "She's just in the other room. I'll go get her."

Less than a second later, her mother's voice said, "Honey," in her ear, and she felt like crying again.

"Hi, mom," she said in a small voice. She knew she was going to worry her mother, but she selfishly decided she didn't care… she needed her.

"What are you doing up? It's four a.m.," her mother said in a concerned voice.

"I'm not tired," she said truthfully, "I went to bed early, and now I'm up and can't get back to sleep."

She could practically hear the gears turning in her mother's head. "Is there something bothering you?" she asked. Renesmee knew she couldn't tell her the whole truth.

"I guess," she said. "I'm just… thinking about stuff."

"What kind of stuff?" She had an image of Bella getting comfortable on the sofa, like she usually did when she was settling in for a long conversation, and felt comforted. "School?"

"No, not school." Renesmee sighed. "I was just thinking about… well, about you and dad."

"Honey, are you feeling homesick?"

"No," Renesmee said without thinking, and then quickly clarified, "I miss you all the time, but that's not what I was thinking of right now."

"Oh." Her mother sounded disappointed, and Renesmee felt really bad… she should have at least pretended to be homesick. Obviously, her parents missed her, too… it might make them feel better if they thought she was at least a bit sad about being on her own. "Well, what about your father and I?"

Renesmee tried to figure out how to go about the conversation, She definitely did not want her parents to know about her feelings for Jacob, at least not yet. Maybe some day, if they ended up together… the tight, uncomfortable feeling in her chest returned. For now, she'd have to be stealthy. "I was just thinking about what a great relationship you two have."

"Really?" Her mother's voice was pleased and surprised, Renesmee noted. She was well aware of how deeply her parents loved each other, and she knew that, given the chance to talk about their relationship, her mother would have plenty to say and would say it happily. "Well, thank you sweetheart."

"And then I started thinking about how much the two of you had to overcome to get to where you are. I'm not even talking about the stuff that came after you were married… I mean all the vampire/human stuff." Renesmee paused. "It must have been really hard for you, being so in love with somebody who was so different from you."

"It wasn't being in love that was hard," her mother replied, "It was not knowing whether that love was returned, and after that, not knowing if it would last." There was a weight to her silence as she stopped talking, and Renesmee knew she was trying to remember as much as she could from her human life. Then, in a suddenly bright tone, Bella said, "But in the end, everything worked out the way I hoped it would: your father and I got married and had you, and then I made the switch and… well, you know the rest."

Renesmee nodded to herself. "Right." She thought carefully about what she'd say next. "Mom, you love Dad more than anything, right?"

"Except for you, honey."

"Right. But you weren't always sure it was going to work out. Wasn't that really hard? Didn't you ever feel like… I don't know, like if you couldn't be with him, you wouldn't be able to stand it?"

The was a morose chuckle from the other end of the line. "That's one way of putting it."

Renesmee figured there was a story there, one she wasn't likely to get without some pushing. She'd worry about that later. "But with so many odds against you, you still managed to make it work."

"It wasn't always easy, but we had to be together. So we were." It sounded so simple, and Renesmee thought miserably that it could only be that easy if both people felt the same way. She must have been thinking too long, because when her mother spoke again her voice sounded somewhat suspicious. "Honey, where is all this coming from?"

Renesmee felt a lump of shame rising in her throat at the thought that she was hiding the truth from her mother, but she pressed on. "I just… I wonder if I'll ever have anything like that." She tried not to let her emotions take over, as close as she was already to tears. "I mean, it was hard enough for you and dad, being a human and a vampire… I don't even know what I am."

"Renesmee," her mother said in a very sympathetic tone, "You're you, and that's all you have to worry about right now."

The sound of her mother's caring voice sent her over the edge. "But what if nobody ever loves me?" she said very quietly.

"Honey. There is somebody out there for you. You'll get there. You just need to be patient." Something in the way her mother said it made Renesmee think of her Aunt Alice, when she'd had a vision of something but didn't want to admit it outright. It was like her mother knew for certain. Of course, that was impossible… her mother couldn't see the future, and Aunt Alice had never been able to see what was going to happen to Renesmee anyway.

"How can you be so sure?" she said miserably. "I don't feel like I even have a chance." Mostly because the man I love probably thinks of me like his little sister. Or his niece. Ugh.

"There are some things I just know." She could almost hear her mother's smile through the phone. "Honey, you'll find love. You don't need to be in such a hurry. When it's right, it will happen. For now, just enjoy how simple your life is without it."

Renesmee felt like her life was anything but simple, but she couldn't tell that to her mother without telling her everything, so she just said, "You're right, mom. Thanks."

"No problem, baby. You know I'm always here to talk if you need me."

"I know." She faked a yawn. "Wow… I guess I really am a bit sleepy still. I should probably try to get some more rest before it's time to get up for real."

"That sounds like a good idea. Have a good sleep."

"Thanks, Mom. I love you."

"I love you too, Baby." There was a soft click as her mother hung up. Renesmee put her phone down. That hadn't helped as much as she'd hope it would. And the sun was starting to come up… pretty soon she'd have to face Jacob, and she didn't know if she could do that.

It's no big deal, she told herself firmly, it's just Jake. Same old Jake as he was yesterday. It wasn't as though she hadn't noticed how attractive Jacob was before… she had. He was a very attractive man, and she'd always known it, and all she had to do now was quietly acknowledge that she found him attractive in the same way she always did and then let it go. No problem. She would get up, take a shower, get dressed and go downstairs, and nothing out of the ordinary would happen.

An hour later, Renesmee stepped out of her bedroom and quietly began to walk towards the stairs. Jacob's bedroom door was shut, and she wondered if he really had gone back to sleep when she'd told him to. Good… maybe that meant she could avoid him altogether.

As she reached the bottom of the stairs, that hope was immediately obliterated as Jacob appeared in the doorway of the kitchen. He was fully clothed in jeans and a plain black t-shirt, Renesmee noted with some relief. Other than a hot feeling somewhat akin to embarrassment, she realized that she didn't really feel all that different than usual upon seeing her friend. She was just happy to see him, excited to spend the morning talking to him and joking around. Just like usual. Feeling hugely relieved, Renesmee gave him a small smile and started towards him and the kitchen.

"Hey," Jacob said before she could offer any sort of greeting. She only registered that he had one hand behind his back when he brought it forward and held it out towards her, revealing a very familiar white and green paper cup. "I went out when I heard the shower come on and got this for you… I know you prefer the fancy stuff to home-brew."

Renesmee took the proffered Starbucks cup with a bewildered expression. She brought it towards her face to inhale the scent and noticed that, on the white plastic lid in bold capital letters, Jacob had written 'SORRY' with a black marker pen. It was then that her feelings from earlier decided to make themselves known once again, and her heart began doing gymnastics inside of her chest.

"I'm really, really sorry about yesterday, Nessie," Jacob said, looking down at her with a sincerely contrite expression. "I mean it when I say I won't let it happen again." She made the mistake of looking directly into his eyes, and found that she couldn't look away.

"Oh, Jake," she said, trying really hard to keep her emotions out of her voice, "It's okay." He shook his head.

"No, it's not. You made it really clear that you care about this friendship, and that it's really important to you. And I can't just ignore that. If I'm really going to do what's best for you, I should try to actually listen to what you say." He gave her a sort of miserable look. "I'm really sorry I ignored your feelings."

Renesmee was gobsmacked; he'd actually taken their argument to heart. Maybe this would be different from all the other times. "Well, thanks for saying that… I didn't expect you would, but it means a lot that you did," she said earnestly. "And for the coffee… which I really wasn't expecting."

Jacob looked much more relaxed at that. "So, you forgive me for acting like a jerk?"

"Of course I forgive you," Renesmee replied, rolling her eyes, "I already did that. But if you thinking I'm mad at you gets me free Starbucks in the morning, I guess I should get pissed off at you every night."

Jacob just shook his head and went back into the kitchen to grab his own coffee. "Sure. Just remember, the 'I'm-Sorry-Coffee' works both ways."

"Oh yeah… really likely, Jake." She snickered and then, propelled by a sudden impulse, shot forward and planted a quick kiss on his cheek while he was bending over the table. "I'm glad everything's okay again," she said quickly, and then dashed back up the stairs to her room. If she'd looked behind her, she would have seen Jacob, frozen mid-bend, with a mystified expression on his face and one hand placed tenderly over the place where her lips had touched his skin.

In the next chapter:

Renesmee smiled at the other girl and shrugged. "You wouldn't by any chance like a second-hand cappuccino, would you? I seem to have an extra…"

"Thanks! That's really sweet of you!" Clara took the green and white paper cup with enthusiasm, just as their professor walked to the front of the class and began the lecture.

Three hours later, as they were packing up, Clara turned to Renesmee again. "So, Ness, I've been watching you since the first day of class, and I have to ask… what are you?"