"And you'll sit beside me, and we'll look, not at visions, but at realities." ― Edith Wharton
Imprint.
The word runs across my mind all day, but I'm still not sure I have a proper grasp on it.
Eric, Angela, and Mike all steal glances at me across the grass for Jessica's burial. It's an entirely different mood than the Quileute memorial for Harry Clearwater. While still a sober atmosphere, there was a celebration of life intertwined. With Jessica, there's just so little life to talk about. A life that was barely getting started.
I found myself expecting to keep wiping my eyes the entire time, but maybe I've cried all the tears I can. Instead, I lean into Charlie's side as he grips our umbrella tightly and we listen to the hymns of tragedy all around us. I'm careful not to press my stomach into him.
Imprint. I think the word again and squeeze my eyes shut. Something is clawing at the back of my mind in regard to it. But the more I try to think about it, the easier it vanishes. And each time I feel flutters dance across my belly, I'm distracted all over again.
Charlie and I wait in the long line to give our condolences to Jessica's parents. Her mom envelops me in a hug almost faster than I can react. It takes every ounce of power from my weak abs to suck in my stomach. Fortunately or unfortunately, Mrs. Stanley is too distracted to make a face about any bump she notices in my middle. I dig my nails into my palms when she releases me.
"Jessica loved you, Bella," she tells me, her face a poor excuse for the gossiping and lively woman her daughter took after so well.
I don't know what to say to that. I bite my inner cheeks and hope to not make a sound.
"You and Angela and Eric and all those kids," Jessica's mom breaks into a sob and her husband drapes his arms over her shoulder to turn her away from us.
I usher Charlie out of the viewing and we make a silent march toward his police cruiser in the gray, oppressive parking lot. I look at everything, but him in the hopes he won't see the shame written onto my features.
The moment we're out of earshot from the majority of the crowd, I hear Charlie exclaim, "Goddamnit…"
I finally turn to him, my mouth dropping wide when the severity of his frazzled tone clicks in my mind. He struggles to keep speaking. For a man of little words, it's not normally an unusual thing. But now?
"I just…" Charlie runs his hand through his thinning black hair. I realize now that his eyes are red and he's choking up. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what he's panicking about.
"Dad," the word flutters on my lips. "It's okay."
"Shit," he curses under his breath and rubs at the corner of his eyes with the back of his fast. My stomach ties into a hundred knots.
Still, I reach out and grip his hand. He looks surprised and a harsh pang of regret for not being a more affectionate daughter hits me.
"It's not going to happen to me," I answer.
It surprises me that I say it with more certainty than I know to be true. But my words don't feel like what a lie normally does, the tingling in the back of my neck and my palms growing sweaty. I feel more resolute in the comfort I'm trying to offer him.
"I should preemptively ground you to keep you home safe," he tries to laugh it off, though it's clear there's a raspy note of uncertainty.
Well, it's not like he wouldn't have a reason to ground me if he needed.
I pull my jacket across my middle tighter, "Yeah, maybe you should." But it still wouldn't be enough to get me out of the current trouble I'm in. The world of newborns needs to stay as far away from him as possible.
"But I still have to work at Newton's tonight," I elbow him in the side.
Maybe it's enough to cause Charlie to loosen up just a little, but I have to count it as a win. He half rolls his eyes at me.
"Fine, but you're coming straight home after."
Mike doesn't look at me throughout my shift at Newton's Olympic Outfitters. Well, he doesn't look at me when I try to look at him. But I can feel his eyes on my back every time I turn around. Karen Newton has made an unusual appearance tonight. She doesn't stay for long, just enough to hover around Mike in a way that tells me Charlie wasn't the only parent affected by the funeral.
As usual, her eyebrows raised at me, silently wondering what the hell I'm still doing here.
It's a good question.
I could run off to Jacksonville, cry to my mom, and beg that she'd help me with the baby. But Victoria, Riley, the others, they'd all find me. Not to mention it'd be an exceptionally cruel thing to do to Sam.
Ugh, Sam.
Every time I think of his name, it hurts a little piece of me. Maybe the worst part is that I don't entirely understand why. All that I know is that after only days of missing him, I'd literally say anything to get him back.
For now, I have to think about more pressing things. Like the future, if I do survive this mess.
I wait thirty minutes after Mike's mom leaves to approach him behind the counter. As I often do when I'm nervous, I absentmindedly twirl a piece of hair between my fingers.
Mike's eyebrows raise when he sees my intent to approach. Then he juts his face away from me, almost ashamed he's surprised by me.
"Hey," I say as casually as I can. But because it's me, it only comes out as insincere and awkward.
"Oh, uh, hey Bella," he mumbles at me.
"Do you think," I twist the strand of my hair tighter, "that you could ask your mom if I could work full-time after graduation?"
If I live till then anyway. Every expense in my life is going to quadruple and I can't put that all on Sam to manage. I don't even know how I would ask.
"Because of the…?" Mike looks down at my stomach again.
"Yeah," I say. "Babies are expensive."
He nods, "Right. Yeah, totally."
"Thanks."
I go back to stocking the shelf in front of me while Mike watches, still mildly paralyzed. But I don't feel as much judgment from his stare this time. Still, the awkwardness is a bit much, even for me. I feel my cheeks beginning to heat up again.
"Ugh!" he throws up his arms. "I'm sorry, Bella. It's just so weird, you know?"
I stare at him for a second until I break into laughter. I'm almost doubling over in hysterics when Mike finally breaks into a smile and laughs with me.
"Yeah," I agree, many moments later when I can finally get a grip on my emotions. "It is really weird. Never thought teenage pregnancy would happen to me."
He laughs, "I mean of all people, it probably should have been Jessica."
I'm almost inclined to agree when I remember how serious she was at the clinic for me. It's an oddly painful memory now and Mike immediately reads it on my face. It ends our millisecond of absurdism between us.
"Oh, shoot. I shouldn't have said…" Mike stutters.
"Hey, it's okay," I wave him off. "She probably would have agreed with you had she been here."
That may not be entirely true considering what she's said to me, but by now I've mastered the art of the white lie to comfort a friend. Friends. I should probably do more to protect the remaining human ones around me. My stomach clenches once again. I just don't know what else can be done besides putting my trust in the Cullens and the pack. But the fate of Jessica sours the idea of the full devolution I used to have. Maybe it is time for me to finally figure out a way to help…
"Ugh, that guy is still standing out there," Mike attempts to change our conversation. "I don't know why he doesn't just come inside instead of being all creepy-like."
Immediately, I turn to view what he's talking about. A million possibilities of danger flash before me. But they all vanish the second I realize who is standing outside, gazing at me stocking shelves with Mike Newton.
Sam keeps a neutral expression on his face as he notices I finally see him.
"Oh crap," I mutter. My hand flies to my stomach without warning.
Mike raises an eyebrow at me and his mouth forms into an 'o.' "Is that the…"
"Yes," I cut him off before he can finish the sentence. "Let me handle it. Sorry!"
I put down whatever fishing hooks I was trying to organize in an instant and rush out the door.
I still can't comprehend why my skin continues to tingle at the thought of Sam despite how poorly our last conversation went. Maybe I was too forthcoming with my feelings…
"Bella," he greets me with a neutral voice. I can see him clearly attempting to avoid eye contact.
I have to strain my neck upwards as he tilts ever-so-slightly
"The Cullens and I have discussed setting up a rotational watch schedule for you. I thought it best to take the first shift and let you know of this decision."
I scoff. Protection for me is extremely unnecessary. There's already a plan for my killing. But the rest of Forks and the reservation is in desperate need of
"Is that all you came to tell me?" I ask, not exactly with annoyance, but most definitely with an undercurrent of frustration and longing.
He grits his teeth and finally looks at me straight on, the hard expression in his eyes faltering at once.
"Bella," he says my name again, this time significantly more pained. And now I can't help the pang of regret.
"I'm sorry. We can just forget about it, for now, Sam," I tell him. "Honestly."
It doesn't hurt as much saying it as I thought it would. Maybe I've gotten to the point where I'll accept any amount of crumbs just to be close to him again.
The muscles in his jaw ripple and I take a half second to gaze at the way the rain falls down the rest of his sculpted chest. My knees are going to buckle if I stare any longer, but gazing into his dark stare instead hardly relieves me of the weakness pooling in my lower half.
A second later, it gets to be too much. I turn on my heel to move, but a hot hand reaches out to grab my forearm and stop me.
"Hear me out for a second, Bella," he tries.
Sam breathes deeply through his nostrils, "Jared might have imprinted after me, but he had a much better time with it. I saw that Kim accepted him right away. I know this is terrible of me to say, but I viewed it as being naive. She didn't know the full extent of the world we were involved in."
I barely know this Kim, but I know that at the time of our imprinting, I definitely had a better grasp on the supernatural world than the majority of people around us. It's a poor excuse.
"What are you afraid of?" I ask him.
"That this will dictate your life."
"It won't," I answer immediately.
He huffs, "How do you know that?"
"I just feel it," I shrug.
"You're beginning to sound like Billy and Harry now." The name of the second person still stings me, but I try not to focus on the instinct to look away in shame.
"Yeah, well, maybe that's not such a bad thing," I tease. "Plus," I add, looking down at my stomach, "I think this is far more likely to dictate my life."
His brow furrows at the reminder, "How are you, by the way?"
"We're fine," I wave him off. He doesn't need to know about my increased cravings, both for food and other things, right this second.
I steel up to face him.
"Sam, if it scares you, then we really can forget about it right now. I just want you to know that I'm not scared, whenever you decide that you aren't," the last part of what I'm trying to say doesn't come out as confident as I intend. Mainly because I worry he might understand the meaning of it.
But maybe I am scared if I'm not even ready to say it quite yet.
I press my lips softly against his. He barely moves, but I hear an almost silent sigh come out. I can't tell if it's relief or exasperation.
It hurts to pull back from him again. Sam doesn't look at me when I do. His eyes strain on something in the distance, but I'm unable to see anything when I gaze into the dark forest. A consequence of being human. I never really know if I'm being watched or not.
He finally looks down at me with a sigh. His face is close to resembling the normal Sam that I know. But there's a flash of displeasure.
"I also came to tell you that the Cullens expect you over tomorrow again."
I nod. Great.
Rosalie picks me up from school again.
"Don't look at me like that. I can feel the disappointment that I'm not Sam," she says to me as I crawl into her Mercedes.
I shake my head, "No, it's not that."
She looks at me for a second longer with a stone-cold glare and then shakes her head. Without asking, she leans over and buckles me into the car with little I can do to stop her. I really don't know what it is about the Cullen family doing this repeatedly.
"Hey!" I exclaim.
Rosalie frowns at my belly, "You're getting bigger."
My cheeks heat up, "Yeah, that tends to happen."
She fixes her gaze firmly in front of us and without warning, the feeling of guilt creeps up my spine. She drives slower than Edward, but there are still only so many minutes of painful silence I can take right now.
"I still need to tell Charlie," I mumble.
She finally looks over at me from the corner of her eye.
"I just," I look down at my hands in my lap. "I feel it would be wrong to say something before we deal with Victoria. Because, you know…" I could die.
I trail off seeing Rosalie's sharp glare at me once again. I can't help but gasp, because I genuinely didn't think I'd see that look again from her.
"Bella," she states my name firmly.
"Sorry," I mumble. I can hear it plainly in her voice that it would be a mistake to press the matter.
We're at their driveway now so Rosalie turns off the car. She stops me with another harsh, but less devastating look before we head inside.
"I want you to know that if my family can't come up with a halfway decent plan to keep you safe, I'm taking you out of the country."
"Oh."
I'm smart enough to not argue back, even if I don't believe her. Even if I'd insist that she doesn't take me at all.
"Emmett and I have plans in place," is the last she says of it before she slams the car door and walks with me inside.
I never get used to the feeling of many pairs of eyes staring at me, unblinking, when I walk inside the Cullen's house. I can't help but gulp in fear. I understand that all of this is because of me, but I'd still rather not be the center of attention. I only allow myself to look at both Edward and Sam out of the corner of my eye.
Esme, in her abundance of kindness, hugs me again. Then she looks down at my middle and must recognize the same thing Rosalie did, but instead smiles.
"May I?" she asks, light dancing in her yellow eyes.
"Uh, sure," I shrug, nervously biting my lip.
Her cold hand reminds me of the ultrasound gel that I felt over two weeks ago. God, that must put me at seventeen weeks, at least. Unexpectedly, I feel my eyes water and I reach up to rub the corner of my left eye.
"I hope you're feeling well, Bella. Please do tell us if you ever need anything."
I smile tightly, "I'm doing alright, thank you."
"The second trimester is often the easiest," Carlisle beams at me.
I nod because I don't know what else to say.
"We'd like to discuss a more formal protection schedule for you, Bella, if that's alright," the eldest vampire asks.
Everyone continues to stare at me as if hanging onto my every word.
"Yeah, sure," I say. But the overwhelming urge to not be in this room while they do it becomes too much. I look outside through a large open window and find the trees blowing calmly in the wind. "But, uh, would you mind if I went outside a bit first? Just to relax for a second." It's a bad excuse even to me, but I really do need a minute to myself.
Esme melts looking at me, "Of course not. Take all the time you need, Bella."
"Thanks," I mumble back pretty shyly, hoping no one is watching me walk out the sliding glass doors.
I'm only a couple of steps outside on the patio when I see a tall, slender figure already leaning against the railing. It takes my eyes a few seconds to adjust to the sight that is Leah Clearwater. Her chopped hair blows in the wind and I almost see her Quileute tattoo sparkle. I've always known she's an indescribable beauty, different from the Cullens for sure, but right now she almost looks as cut from marble as they do.
"Oh, hey," I say. "They didn't tell me you were out here."
Leah scoffs, "Of course not. But I've got to be so here I fucking am."
"You don't have to be," I tell her. "Really, I'm sure they can work out my babysitting schedule just between themselves."
Okay, I do say the last part bitterly. But I don't regret it when I see the corners of Leah's mouth pull upwards. It vanishes just as quickly as it comes though.
"Not everything is about you," she rolls her eyes. "I'm not here for that. This imprint business makes it so I feel the constant need to be around him. Or else I'll get weak or something."
I put my arms against the railing next to her, keeping a solid two feet of distance between us. After all, we do have a history of talking in particularly depressing and serene backgrounds.
"That sounds tedious," I admit.
"Extremely," she answers. "I need the extra time to keep training."
"Wait," I ask, suddenly feeling guilty for changing the topic away from her, but my curiosity remains too strong. "How did Sam function when he first imprinted on me?"
She cocks an eyebrow up at me, "He got your dad to hire him to fix your house."
I blush and look away from her intense stare. I remember that day clearly. I was still basically catatonic, and looking at Sam was the only thing that woke me. It hits me now that maybe we've been destined from the beginning after all. I ball my hand into a fist as I try to struggle to understand the many layers of the imprint that I know are there.
"And then I heard you kept coming onto the rez to buy weed."
Oh. Shit.
My face is on fire now.
"Helps when you come onto our land, or so I'm told. If only there wasn't a goddamn treaty in place that is preventing him from doing so."
I don't know what to say to that. I could suggest she invite him, but I'm not sure they would blow over well with the others.
So I say nothing. We sit in silence for a long time. Eventually, even I can hear the voices of the Cullens and Sam pick up in the next room.
"The pack hates me now," Leah says. Her voice doesn't have a hint of grit that it normally does. Only a somber attitude.
"That can't be true," I answer, taking a much closer look at her features. I know what's written on her face because I saw it on mine so many times. Heartbreak. But I refuse to believe she's been abandoned by her family. Especially after losing her father not so long ago.
She doesn't answer me.
"Well, I can imagine they're too fond of me either," I say. I try not to think of Jacob and the friendship we lost. I barely even know the others. It's honestly terrible I haven't put more effort to get to know them. Well, it may be a moot point now if I'm to die in a week.
"Leech lover," Leah speaks. "They call you that when you're not around, you know?"
"What?" I stammer.
"They think the universe must hate Sam if it gave him you. Personally, I think it's the other way around. The universe must hate you for giving you him."
We pause to watch the stars.
"What does it mean for you?" I finally ask, thinking of Jasper.
She shrugs, "That I'm already dead."
It's an extremely depressing thought and I again don't know what to say to her. But I know enough that she doesn't want me to seriously argue back.
"I don't understand what all this means," I admit.
"Imprinting?" she asks me.
I nod.
"It just means we suffer and we like it."
She makes a good point, but my instincts tell me she has to be wrong. There has to be more to it than that.
"Did Sam suffer a lot?" I ask.
Leah scowls at me, "Maybe. I'm not sure. He left Emily right after he imprinted on you. She didn't even fight it."
I bite down on my lip.
"I would've fought him if he did that shit to me. But only before I knew what an imprint felt like. It's suspicious, don't you think? Then she moves onto Paul so quickly after."
I shake my head, "Maybe she just hates being lonely."
"Don't we all?" Leah scoffs.
I understand now why she brought up Sam leaving Emily immediately. And who exactly she must have been thinking of that hasn't done that. But it's different for them. I'm not sure Alice would ever allow that option. Not without something in return.
"Jasper's a good person," I say. "He won't let that happen to you."
Leah remains silent.
Finally, she speaks another dismal conclusion, "The world wasn't meant to have a female wolf."
I turn back to look at her, my face instantly scrunching up in disbelief. "You don't know that."
She sighs.
"I don't have my period anymore, Bella. My mom, Billy, they all tell me it'll come back. But I feel it in my gut. I'll never have kids of my own."
I shake my head, "You can't believe that."
She smiles softly, "I do. So that's one of the reasons I'm willing to fight for you and yours."
I lose all feeling in my throat. My eyes water without thinking. God, I really am so emotional these days. The anguish I couldn't spill at Jessica's funeral comes back in full force. I wrap my arms around myself in a weak attempt at comfort.
But there's something I need to say. Something I only wish I got the chance to say to Jessica.
"I don't have a lot of family," I tell her. "I have my mom and my dad, maybe Phil too. And I have Sam, but none of them I chose."
I grab her hand and she looks down at me in surprise, her mouth slightly parting.
"But I choose you to be my family, Leah."
Her lips form a wide 'o' now, but she continues to say nothing. I see her eyes glaze over so I push on.
"Neither of us has ever had a sister," I smile. "Maybe we can be that for each other."
She finally snaps back to reality and clamps her mouth shut. Slowly, a very small and subtle smile spreads over her face.
"So as my sister, I would understand if you need to run, okay?" I silently beg her to take this out.
A strength I've never seen before passes over her, "I'm not going to fight this part of my destiny wherever it leads, even if I want to." A smirk finds its way on her features as she says the last bit. "Guess you'll be stuck with me after all, sister."
We smile at each other just a second longer, both under the agreement that a hug would be too much. Still, a part inside of me heals and another ounce of job returns to my life that I didn't believe possible.
"Now go back inside," she tells me, using her head to give the direction as if I don't know where it is.
I stare her down, "Not without you."
Leah rolls her eyes, but I manage to get her to follow me inside. If the others are surprised by her presence, they don't say anything. Only Alice looks peeved.
"Welcome back, Bella," Esme tells me. Then she nods, "And Leah."
The female wolf leans against the wall away from everyone, but I'm ushered into a chair next to Esme and Rosalie.
"We still don't have a solid plan to deal with Victoria and her creations," Rosalie mutters. I can see her looking at me out of the corner of her eye to make sure I haven't forgotten about her backup plan. I haven't, but something else takes my immediate attention as the group continues arguing.
The word 'creation' rings inside of my head. I don't understand it at first. I can feel the threads of realization coalesce in my head, but I know the truth is somewhere there in a tangled mess I feel too stupid to uncover.
Only a second later does the knowledge snap into my head.
Imprinting is about creation.
This realization lights up in my brain and I'm almost getting high off the feeling of being so close to putting the pieces together. I can feel it. Like the first hit.
I have to shake off those memories and keep pushing. Creation, yes. But not necessarily reproduction. Not just…making babies.
My belly seems to gain ten pounds with that thought. I shift in my spot and run a hand over my middle. This catches the attention of everyone in the room and they seem to pause their conversation for a split moment to stare at me. I try to disappear as red-hot embarrassment burns my cheeks.
Think, Bella, think.
One of the other wolves, Jared, imprinted and as far as I know, she didn't immediately get pregnant. And Leah and Jasper can't. She just admitted to that.
But creation is much more than that. I've heard enough scattered teachings from the tribe to understand that the ways in which the universe creates may not immediately be apparent to us. I thought it was silly at the time, but now?
Now I see that creation and imprinting is a chain. Each links to the other. And the reason Sam imprinted on me is to get us to this moment.
The truth of this next statement is felt down to my bone marrow. The same kind of buzzing I felt in the forest when Leah must have imprinted on Jasper. Perplexing but still calm. Only now, I'm excited.
I'm squirming on the edge of my seat. Only Sam and Edward notice my odd movements this time. I try to look neither of them in the eye.
I suddenly get a flash of Leah in my vision. Of her many minutes ago standing on the railing almost looking like a vampire…
Her voice becomes the strongest sound in my head now: I'm already dead.
Vampires and wolves. Dead and alive. The two opposing sides. There's never been a continuum. You're either one or the other. But could it be possible?
"The world wasn't meant to have a female wolf."
No. It's something else.
Maybe it's that the world wasn't meant to have just a female wolf.
She was always meant to become something more.
A hybrid.
I grip the edges of my chair so tightly my knuckles turn white. I could bite my lip hard enough to bleed and cause another accidental attack from Jasper or any of the others who still hunger for my blood.
The idea of such a being doesn't seem possible. But why else would she imprint on Jasper? What other reason would nature have to pair them together? Strangely, it doesn't seem like there could be any other purpose.
The idea of Riley also flashes into my head. The strongest vampire in existence. The ability to copy all other abilities seems impossible to beat. And in a fresh newborn state, he still beats the strength of any of our vampires without powers and even the wolves. I know from only listening that we'd have to direct most of our forces to take care of the other newborns anyway.
But a wolf and a vampire together? In the same being? I know it in my bones that they'd be unstoppable. Even against Riley.
Alice can't see the wolves in her visions. I doubt she could see a hybrid either. And if one is born, wouldn't that make all of her previous visions null? Victoria and Riley wouldn't be able to prepare. The future would be unwritten.
It all makes sense.
It makes so much sense that I start to cry.
I cry because it hurts too.
"I know how we might win this," I finally say. My voice is hoarse, but it still catches the attention of every creature in the room.
They look at me with wide, unblinking eyes. Some intrigued, some amused, some disbelieving.
I only focus on one auburn-colored face. The face of a woman hurt by her lot in life, who only may get hurt worse with what I'm about to say. Of a woman who dreams and longs even if she may want to hide it under a cold exterior. A woman I know has the capability to be powerful enough to finally have a chance in life.
"It's you."
A/N: Woo, golly gee, sorry for taking an unexpected six months break! I'm working diligently on the next chapter and really do hope to have it soonish! As for the direction in this story, I had the idea of Leah being a hybrid since the very beginning. Time will only tell if this turns out to be a good story move lol. Thanks for anyone sticking around!