Bella McLeod

Healer

This is my first Twilight fic, and it is a femlash, featuring Bella and Rosalie as a couple. So, if you don't like, please head somewhere else.

As an introduction, you may want to read "Snape McLeod" since the Bella that trained Tobias there is the same one here, only a decade later. It's not a requirement for you to read it, especially since I will try and untangle things as the story progresses. I altered the timeline to fit my needs, so… she met Snape in 1997, they parted ways in 2000 and it is now 2011, when she moves to Forks with Charlie.

Bare in mind that I do not own Twilight, nor its characters, so if you recognize any of them, THEY'RE NOT MINE. I only own the idea of making Bella Swan part of Clan McLeod.

I also not own the Highlander series, characters and concepts.

Remember to leave your reviews…

Bella McLeod

Chapter 03

Healer

As I walked down the aisle to introduce myself to the teacher and get my slip signed, I was watching her surreptitiously. Just as I passed, she suddenly went rigid in her seat. She stared at me again, meeting my eyes with the strangest expression on her face, it was hostile, furious even. I cocked my head slightly, shocked by the ferocity I saw in her stare. I'd noticed that Rosalie's eyes were black, coal black. Which put me off, a few minutes ago at the cafeteria they were a gorgeous golden, it couldn't have been a light trick, right?

Mr. Banner signed my slip and handed me a book with no nonsense about introductions. Of course, he had no choice but to send me to the one open seat in the middle of the room. I lowered my gaze down as I went to sit by her, bewildered by the antagonistic stare she'd given me. She was going to be a tough cookie to crack, so for the time being I chose not to look up as I set my book on the table and took my seat, but I still caught her posture change from the corner of my eye. She was leaning away from me, sitting on the extreme edge of her chair and averting her face. I let my hair fall over my right shoulder, making a dark curtain between us, and tried to focus my attention to the teacher. It would seem this was not a good time to introduce myself to Rosalie Hale.

Unfortunately the lecture was on cellular anatomy, something I'd already studied, and which I had actually put attention the first and second time around. I took notes carefully anyway, always looking down. I couldn't stop myself from peeking occasionally through the screen of my hair at the gorgeous girl next to me. During the whole class, she never relaxed her stiff position on the edge of her chair, sitting as far from me as possible. I could see her hand on her left leg was clenched into a fist, tendons standing out under her pale skin, she never relaxed while there. And yet, she was better built than the pixie girl. She was simply perfect.

The class seemed to drag on longer than the others. Was it because the day was finally coming to a close, or because I was waiting for her tight fist to loosen? It never did; she continued to sit so still it looked like she wasn't breathing. What was wrong with her? Was this her normal behavior? I questioned my judgment on Jessica's bitterness towards the Cullens at lunch today. It couldn't have anything to do with me, right? We have not even said a word to each other yet. I peeked up at her one more time, and regretted it. She was glaring down at me again, her black eyes full of revulsion now. As I flinched away from her, shrinking against my chair, the phrase if looks could kill suddenly ran through my mind. So glad she was not an Immortal, otherwise I am afraid she would have just issued the Challenge and behead me on the spot.

This is ridiculous. I thought to myself after a moment. I had faced off countless immortals, of all ages. I was 54 years old for god's sake, I was not to be taken aback by the attitude of a hormonal teenage girl, an amazingly pretty at that, but a teenager nevertheless. I decided to stop this nonsense and learn what was making her act like this. At that moment, the bell rang loudly, making me jump, and Rosalie Hale was out of her seat. She was taller than I'd thought, taller than me, her back to me, and she was out the door before anyone else was out of their seat.

I sat frozen in my seat, staring blankly after her. She had acted so weird. I began gathering up my things slowly, trying to block the anger that filled me at the realization that I had just let her be mean to me, so instead I focused on how fun it would turn out to be this chase. Warming my way into her life and at least making a new friend, or if possible something else entirely.

"Aren't you Isabella Swan?" a male voice asked. I looked up to see a cute, baby-faced boy, his pale blond hair carefully gelled into orderly spikes, smiling at me in a friendly way.

"Bella," I corrected him, with a smile.

"I'm Mike."

"Hi, Mike."

"Do you need any help finding your next class?"

"I'm headed to the gym, actually. I think I can find it."

"That's my next class, too." He seemed thrilled, though it wasn't that big of a coincidence in a school this small. We walked to class together; he was a chatter, he supplied most of the conversation, which made it easy for me. He'd lived in California till he was ten. It turned out he was in my English class also. He was the nicest person I'd met today. But as we were entering the gym, he asked, "So, did you stab Rosalie Hale with a pencil or what? I've never seen her act like that." I cringed. So I wasn't the only one who had noticed. And, apparently, that wasn't Rosalie Hale's usual behavior. I decided to play dumb.

"Was that the girl I sat next to in Biology?" I asked artlessly.

"Yes," he said. "She looked like she was in pain or something."

"I don't know," I responded. "I never spoke to her." And boy, I had wanted to.

"She's a weird gal." Mike lingered by me instead of heading to the dressing room. "If I were lucky enough to sit by you, I would have talked to you." I smiled at him before walking through the girls' locker room door. He was friendly and clearly admiring. But I was not interested in his friendship or admiration.

The Gym teacher, Coach Clapp, found me a uniform but didn't make me dress down for today's class. Which in part was bad, I would not be able to burn some of the tension now. However, it appeared that P.E. was mandatory all four years at Fork's High. I watched four volleyball games running simultaneously and remembered that this is not my sport.

The final bell rang at last. I walked slowly to the office to return my paperwork. The rain had drifted away, but the wind was strong, and colder. I wrapped my arms around myself. When I walked into the warm office, I almost turned around and walked back out. Rosalie Hale stood at the desk in front of me. I recognized again that gorgeous blond hair. She didn't appear to notice the sound of my entrance. I stood pressed against the back wall, waiting for the receptionist to be free. She was arguing with her in a low, attractive voice. I quickly picked up the gist of the argument. Rosalie was trying to trade from sixth-hour Biology to another time, any other time. I just couldn't believe that this was about me. It had to be something else, something that happened before I entered the Biology room. The look on her face must have been about another aggravation entirely. It was impossible that this stranger could take such a sudden, intense dislike to me.

The door opened again, and the cold wind suddenly gusted through the room, rustling the papers on the desk, swirling my hair around my face. The girl who came in merely stepped to the desk, placed a note in the wire basket, and walked out again. But Rosalie's back stiffened, and she turned slowly to glare at me with piercing, hate-filled eyes. For an instant, I felt a thrill of genuine fear, raising the hair on my arms. The look only lasted a second, but it chilled me more than the freezing wind. She turned back to the receptionist. "Never mind, then," she said hastily in a voice like velvet. "I can see that it's impossible. Thank you so much for your help." And she turned on her heel without another look at me, and disappeared out the door. I went meekly to the desk, my face white for once instead of red, and handed her the signed slip.

"How did your first day go, dear?" the receptionist asked maternally.

"Fine," I lied, my voice weak. She didn't look convinced.

When I got to the truck, it was almost the last car in the lot. I sat inside for a while, just staring out the windshield blankly. But soon I was cold enough to need the heater, so I turned the key and the engine roared to life. I headed back to Charlie's house.

The next day was better… and worse. It was better because it wasn't raining yet, though the clouds were dense and opaque. It was easier because I knew what to expect of my day. Mike came to sit by me in English, and walked me to my next class, with Chess Club Eric glaring at him all the while. People didn't look at me quite as much as they had yesterday. I sat with a big group at lunch that included Mike, Eric, Jessica, and several other people whose names and faces I then seemed to remember. I began to feel like I was treading water, instead of drowning in it.

It was worse because I was tired; I hadn't been able to sleep with everything going through my mind. It was amused because I had to play volleyball, and I hit my teammate in the head with it making us lose, and I was as Duncan had reminded me my whole life, a sore loser. And above all, it was worse because Rosalie Hale wasn't in school at all. All morning I was dreading lunch, expecting her bizarre glares. Part of me wanted to confront her and demand to know what her problem was. While I was lying sleepless in my bed, I even imagined ways to woo her. But when I walked into the cafeteria with Jessica, I saw that her four siblings were sitting together at the same table, and she was not with them.

Mike intercepted us and steered us to his table. Jessica seemed elated by the attention, and her friends quickly joined us. But as I tried to listen to their easy chatter, I was oddly uncomfortable, waiting nervously for the moment She would arrive. I hoped that she would simply ignore me when she came, and prove my suspicions of her hatred towards me to be false. She didn't come, and as time passed I grew more and more disappointed.

I walked to Biology with more confidence when, by the end of lunch, she still hadn't showed. Mike, who was apparently taking on the qualities of a golden retriever, walked faithfully by my side to class. I held my breath at the door, but Rosalie Hale wasn't there, either. I exhaled and went to my seat. Mike followed, talking about an upcoming trip to the beach. He lingered by my desk till the bell rang. Then he smiled at me wistfully and went to sit by a girl with braces and a bad perm. It looked like I was going to have to do something about Mike, since he had not received the memo from Eric yet. In a town like this, where everyone lived on top of everyone else, ambiguity may not be a healthy option. I had never been enormously tactful; I had practice dealing with overly friendly boys, but it never ended well for them.

I was somewhat relieved that I had the desk to myself, that Rosalie was absent. I told myself that repeatedly. But I couldn't get rid of the nagging suspicion that I was the reason she wasn't there. It was ridiculous, and egotistical, to think that I could affect anyone that strongly without even talking to them. It was impossible. And yet I couldn't stop worrying that it was true. All I wanted to was to make her notice me, and make her smile and get to know her.

When the school day was finally done, I changed quickly back into my jeans and navy blue sweater. I hurried from the girls' locker room, pleased to find that I had successfully evaded my retriever friend for the moment. I walked swiftly out to the parking lot. It was crowded now with fleeing students. I got in my truck and dug through my bag to make sure I had what I needed. Last night I'd discovered that Charlie couldn't cook much besides fried eggs and bacon. So I requested that I be assigned kitchen detail for the duration of my stay. He was willing enough to hand over the keys to the banquet hall. I also found out that he had no food in the house. So I had my shopping list and the cash from the jar in the cupboard labeled FOOD MONEY. I gunned my deafening engine to life, ignoring the heads that turned in my direction, and backed carefully into a place in the line of cars that were waiting to exit the parking lot.

As I waited, trying to pretend that the earsplitting rumble was coming from someone else's car, I saw the Cullens and Rosalie's twin getting into their car. It was the shiny new Volvo. Of course. I hadn't noticed their clothes before, I'd been too mesmerized by their faces. Now that I looked, it was obvious that they were all dressed exceptionally well; simply, but in clothes that subtly hinted at designer origins. With their remarkable good looks, the style with which they carried themselves, they probably could have worn dishrags and pulled it off. It seemed excessive for them to have both looks and money. But who was I to complain, after all I had brains, power and money, and a pretty good deal of looks, not like them of course, but anyway, the point was that as far as I could tell, life worked out for them pretty well. Though it didn't look as if it bought them any acceptance here. The isolation must be their desire; I couldn't imagine any door that wouldn't be opened by that degree of beauty. They looked at my noisy truck as I passed them, just like everyone else. I gave them a sideway glance and smirked at the pixie hair girl when we locked eyes. Rosalie was my goal, but I certainly could appreciate beauty.

It was nice to be inside the supermarket; it felt normal. The store was big enough inside that I couldn't hear the tapping of the rain on the roof to remind me where I was. I always did like shopping at the groceries store , and I fell into the pattern of the familiar task gladly. My time living with Gab were a few of the happiest in my life. I would do the groceries, she would cook. She made life simpler, she pushed me to be better and I missed her terribly.

When I got home, I unloaded all the groceries, stuffing them in wherever I could find an open space. I hoped Charlie wouldn't mind. I wrapped potatoes in foil and stuck them in the oven to bake, covered a steak in marinade and balanced it on top of a carton of eggs in the fridge. When I was finished with that, I took my book bag upstairs. Before starting my homework, I changed into a pair of dry sweats, pulled my damp hair up into a pony-tail, and checked my e-mail for the first time since the accident. I had only three personal messages, everything else was spam or promotions.

"Bella," my best friend Clara wrote… "Write me as soon as you get in. Tell me how your flight was. And where did you end up settling? I miss you already. Wish we could have stayed together longer. By the way, I met a friend of yours." I sighed and went to the next. It was sent eight hours after the first.

"Bella," she wrote… "Why haven't you e-mailed me yet? What are you waiting for? Clara". The last was from this morning.

"Isabella, If I haven't heard from you by 5:30 p.m. today I'm calling Duncan and demand he tells me where you are" I checked the clock. I still had an hour, but Clara was well known for jumping the gun.

"Clara, Calm down. I'm writing right now. Don't do anything rash, as usual when I'm not around. Bella" I sent that, and began again.

"Everything is good, or as good as it can be considering I'm enrolled into highschool again. I thought we agreed not to tell you where I was for a while, to avoid you coming and 'corrupting me' even more. Anyway, I could tell you I was waiting for something to write about, but truth is I forgot to check my e-mail. School isn't bad, just a little repetitive. I met some nice kids who sit by me at lunch.

Charlie bought me a truck, the truck. Can you believe it? I love it. It's the one I had wanted way back when… well, you know when… or like the one I wanted, not really sure it can be the same..

I miss you, too. I'll write again soon, but I'm not going to check my email every five minutes. Relax, breathe. I love you.

Oh, and please do tell me exactly what you happened between you and Tobias.

Also, do get a phone and text me. Faster than e-mailing.

Bella.

PS. I'm at Forks with my new Watcher"

I had decided to read again Wuthering Heights, the novel we were 'currently' studying in English, just for the fun of it, and that's what I was doing when Charlie came home. I'd lost track of the time, and I hurried downstairs to take the potatoes out and put the steak in to broil.

"Bella?" Charlie called out when he heard me on the stairs. Who else? I thought to myself.

"Hey, welcome home."

"Thanks." He hung up his gun belt and stepped out of his boots as I bustled about the kitchen. As far as I was aware, he'd never shot the gun on the job, none of his jobs. But he kept it ready. "What's for dinner?" he asked warily.

"Steak and potatoes," I answered, and he looked relieved. He seemed to feel awkward standing in the kitchen doing nothing; he lumbered into the living room to watch TV while I worked, apparently we were both more comfortable that way. I made a salad while the steaks cooked, and set the table. I called him in when dinner was ready, and he sniffed appreciatively as he walked into the room.

"Smells good, Bella. Did Duncan teach you how to cook?"

"Thanks." I said smiling sadly "No, it was actually Gab"

"I'm sorry Bella" he said after a moment

We ate in silence for a few minutes. It wasn't uncomfortable per sei, but it wasn't comfortable some ways, it would appear we were well suited for living together.

"So, how did you like school? Have you made any friends?" he asked as he was taking seconds.

"Are you making fun of me now Charlie?" I asked amused "Well, I have a few classes with a girl named Jessica. I sit with her friends at lunch. And there's this boy, Mike, who's very friendly. Everybody seems pretty nice." I finally told him.

"That must be Mike Newton. Nice kid, nice family. His dad owns the sporting goods store just outside of town. He makes a good living off all the backpackers who come through here."

"Do you know the Cullen family?" I asked hesitantly.

"Dr. Cullen's family? Sure. Dr. Cullen's a great man."

"They… the kids… are a little different. They don't seem to fit in very well at school."

Charlie surprised me by looking angry. "People in this town," he muttered. "Dr. Cullen is a brilliant surgeon who could probably work in any hospital in the world, make ten times the salary he gets here," he continued, getting louder. "We're lucky to have him, lucky that his wife wanted to live in a small town. He's an asset to the community, and all of those kids are well behaved and polite. I had my doubts, when they first moved in, with all those adopted teenagers. I thought we might have some problems with them. But they're all very mature, I haven't had one speck of trouble from any of them. That's more than I can say for the children of some folks who have lived in this town for generations. And they stick together the way a family should, camping trips every other weekend… Just because they're newcomers, people have to talk." It was the longest speech I'd ever heard Charlie make. He must feel strongly about whatever people were saying. I backpedaled.

"They seemed nice enough to me. I just noticed they kept to themselves. They're all very attractive," I added, trying to be more complimentary.

"You should see the doctor," Charlie said, laughing. "It's a good thing he's happily married. A lot of the nurses at the hospital have a hard time concentrating on their work with him around."

"Well, for foster children, it's interesting they all turned out to be that good looking"

"Right. Who caught your eye though?" I eyed him warily after he spat his question. "Don't give me that look. I know all about you, remember? I've studied you, so one of them must have caught you eye"

"Oh… well yeah. They all did, but I believe Rosalie, the blond girl, is the prettiest of the lot"

"Listen Bella, they are good kids. Don't mess around with them if you do not plan to stick around for long"

I nodded, in part moved by Charlie's need to defend the Cullens. In part angry because of what he thought he knew about me. It's not the same to live the thing, than to read about it on my previous Watchers' journals.

We lapsed back into silence as we finished eating. He cleared the table while I started on the dishes. He went back to the TV, and after I finished washing the dishes by hand, no dishwasher, which we would have to remedy soon, I went upstairs unwilling to work on my math homework. I could feel a tradition in the making. That night I fell asleep quickly, exhausted.

REVISED A/N(April 2021): So, small changes here and there from the original posted chapter a few years back. Slowly adding or taking what I deem necessary to get us to the point of the story where we are now on chapter 30 and onward.

Original A/N: Well, as you may or may not know, I am currently unemployed, so my mind decided to busy itself. I just had to decide where to start first while I find a new job.

Hope you liked it so far.

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Oh, and if you have a twitter account and are interested, follow me at OriginalHealer