XI. Boys Are Useful for Some Things

"Bells, what are you still doing in bed?!"

"Huh? What?!" I sat up with a gasp, skewed hair blocking my view.

"It's already two! We need to get going!" Charlie shouted from the hall.

I pushed my hair back and rubbed away the tears crusted around my eyes, belatedly realizing it was Super Bowl Sunday. "What time does the game start?" I asked, voice rough with sleep as I stumbled out of bed and trudged to the bathroom.

"Half past three," he called from downstairs.

It was only a twenty minute drive to the reservation―I wasn't sure why he was in such a rush. But I wasn't into sports, so I didn't question his urgency. "Give me five minutes," I shouted, yanking a brush through my tangled bedhead. I cringed when I saw the bruises beneath my eyes. I'd stayed up late reading the book, had trouble falling asleep after the fact, and then dreamt of drowning. The memory of choking and lungs burning was vividly branded into my head. Remembering or not remembering―I wasn't sure which was worse.

My thoughts drifted towards the book while I got ready―Azmon had been right. It hadn't revealed any new information, but I held the story close to my heart. It was a bittersweet tale of a girl, in similar circumstances as my own (sans the vampires), dealing with the aftermath: recovering from her death, trying to match the preconceived notions of those who already knew the body she inhabited, grieving the loss of her life and loved ones, and struggling with body dysphoria. It had touched upon all my worries, fears, and doubts. I could only feel lucky that I was already so familiar with Bella's story―although perhaps it was that familiarity that had gotten me in this mess in the first place.

By the time I came downstairs, Charlie had already succeeded in unplugging the jumble of cables from the flat screen. "Bells, you alright?" Charlie frowned, giving me a once over.

"Yep. Just stayed up late," I waved off his concern, and then cast a critical look over the TV while I pulled my hair up into a ponytail. Unfortunately, flat screens in 2005 weren't actually all that flat. "This'll fit in the backseat?" I checked.

"Should," Charlie shrugged. Not very convincing, but I didn't argue and instead helped him heave the TV around the couch, across the hall, down the porch steps, and into the backseat of his cruiser.

"Great! Thanks, Bells! Let's get going!"

The drive to La Push was, oddly enough, filled with Charlie's avid chatter. His normally quiet disposition was suddenly trumped by his love for sports. It was kind of cute, so I did him the favor of nodding, humming, and agreeing in whichever I assumed were the right places.

When we arrived, I wasn't forced to lug out the flat screen. But neither was Charlie, because two hulking men with biceps bigger than my head made easy work of carrying it into the house. "It's about time, Charlie!"

"Would've been here sooner if you didn't ask me to pick up more beer," Charlie rolled his eyes, before turning to me, "You remember, Harry, Bells?"

If Bella remembered no one from La Push, then I certainly don't. "Hi, Harry!" I waved, hoping my smile didn't look as frail as it felt.

"Look at you! You've gotten so big!" he chortled. "Go on ahead, Bells. I think Sue and Leah are in the kitchen."

"Sure thing," I said, hopping up onto the porch and heading inside. Curiously, I peeked into the living room and watched the two werewolves setting up the TV. Doubting Sam would be anywhere near Leah, I assumed I was looking at Jared and Paul.

"See something you like?" one of them caught my eye and winked.

I couldn't help but snort. "Sure," I said dryly, before turning and heading down the hall and into the kitchen. Sure, I was curious, but I wasn't stupid. Brandishing my shitty sense of humor on Paul was certainly a recipe for disaster.

"―ridiculous. Why did you even invite them in, mom?"

Inside, Leah was sprawled on one of the kitchen chairs, arms crossed and waist-length hair in a disarray. Sue stood by the kitchen island, pouring nacho cheese into a crockpot. "They're here to see your father, Leah. Not you. And I didn't see you helping me with any of this, this morning. I can offer them as much food as I like."

"Uh, bad time?" I smiled awkwardly.

"Oh!" Sue gasped, turning to me with an embarrassed smile. "You must be Isabella! You're all Charlie talks about. Please, take a seat."

"Thanks," I said, slumping into a chair beside Leah. "Uh, do you need help with anything?"

"Oh no, don't worry yourself. I'm just about done here," Sue waved me off.

Leah scoffed. "You were done hours ago. And then those morons showed up and ate us out of house and home."

"You're talking about the trees in the living room?" I asked, lips twitching into a small smile.

Leah snorted a laugh. "Trees?"

As far as insults went, "trees" was pretty lame. "They're tall," I explained sheepishly.

"I can think of worse insults," she sneered, defiantly locking gazes with the two werewolves now hovering awkwardly by the kitchen entry. Only one of them met her glower straight on―I assumed this one was Paul.

"Thanks again for the food, Mrs. Clearwater," Jared called, easily ignoring Leah.

"Oh, you boys aren't staying for the game?" Sue frowned.

"No," Paul finally broke his stare down with Leah. "We have to meet up with Sam."

"Ah," Sue said delicately, "Go on then. Be safe."

"Sure," Jared waved her off and the duo disappeared.

Beside me, Leah sat stiffly, hands curling into fists until her knuckles strained against her skin.

I pointedly made no mention of it. Instead, I turned to Sue and inquired, "Who else is coming?"

"Hm? Oh, Billy and his boy should be here soon. Jacob is probably bringing along some of his friends. Leah, did you or Seth invite anyone?" Sue asked.

"Not likely," Leah scoffed. "It's just a stupid game."

Sue smiled and didn't disagree.

When Seth bounded into the room, it was like a punch to the chest. For a split second, his resemblance to my little brother was uncanny, and I had to hold back a sob. I pinched myself, until I could look at Seth again and remind myself that no―my brother didn't have long, long hair; didn't grin so brightly; didn't naturally have such dark skin, but had it as a result of being in the sun so often.

A kick to the shins jolted me into taking a much needed breath.

"What's the matter with you, Swan?" Leah hissed under the cover of Seth's loud chatter.

"I could ask you the same thing," I evaded.

Leah's face twisted into an ugly scowl. "Hmph, whatever."

I could hear Charlie and Harry, and other voices (Billy and Jacob?) from the front door and I sunk lower into my chair.

I was disturbingly aware that I did not belong here. My skin itched with discomfort and my breaths came shallowly.

And for a while, I wished I was in Edward's stone grip―an anchor to keep me from sinking further.

It was three in the morning when I quit trying to get any sleep. Even awake, the nightmares tormented me. The faces of my family beared down on me and I couldn't handle the guilt.

Pulling on a thick sweater and a pair of sneakers, I trudged out of my room and down the stairs. I paced the hall for a while, until I made my way to the back porch. I stared out into the gloom and moved forward. My shoes had only just sunk into the wet grass when I heard the whisper of my name.

"Azmon?" I called out desperately, squinting into the darkness.

"I'm here."

I whirled around and found him standing at my side, solemn violet eyes glowing and staring into the dense forest I knew was there, but couldn't see. "You came back," I cried and begged, "Please. You have to let me go back! I'm not supposed to be here! This isn't my story."

"You died," he said, "You have no place there."

I moved to stand before him. "And Bella? What about her?" I demanded and jabbed a finger in the direction of the house, "That man up there―Charlie. He has a daughter. Her name is Bella. Where is she?"

Azmon cast his gaze down to meet mine. "There is no Bella."

I faltered. "What…? Of course there is! Or who did Renée raise for the last seventeen years? That girl should be here―not me!"

"There is no Bella," he insisted, "And you cannot return."

"It's not fair," I whispered, wiping the tears from my eyes. "I know...I remember. I have no one to blame but myself for what happened, but...my family. How am I supposed to go on without them?"

"The same way your family must go on without you. You have another chance―do not take it for granted."

"No," I hissed, "This is all wrong. The dead should stay dead."

"And yet, you live." Just like with every statement he made―short, brutal sentences that cut me deep. They were knives lodged in my chest. My breathing turned ragged.

"I can't," I sobbed, "Look at me. It's wrong. I'm all wrong. This isn't my skin, or my face, or my body. I'm wrong."

I quieted when a heavy hand rested atop my head. "You are not wrong and you are not dead. Once you accept this, you will recover and you will find a new home. Do not be scared to let go."

"How can I not be?" I choked, clutching at my chest, heart aching like a tender bruise. "I can't even remember my own name."

"I am sorry, child. It is out of my hands." For once, there was a weight to his voice. Something sad and tired and old. "You are stubborn, but heed my words." He slid his hand from atop my head and stepped back

I stumbled forward with panic. "Wait! When can I see you again?" He was my only link―my only proof that I was someone other than Isabella Swan.

But he vanished and in the quiet, the whisper of his voice brushed against my ears, "If you do not, it will be a good thing."

I clung to his ominous words with a heavy heart.

The cold, droplets of rain splashing against my hair and face startled me back into awareness. But I didn't want to go back. Instead, I took cover under the awning, dropping onto the porch steps with a weak cry. For a brief moment, I thought Azmon had returned when I heard the sound of my name over the steady patter of rain. I squinted into the darkness of the woods―a rather useless gesture. Regardless, such a pleasant and musical voice was familiar to my ears. "Edward."

My recognition was all he needed. Within seconds, he was kneeling before me, raindrops glittering in his damp hair and the shoulders of his coat slick with rain. His corpse-pale face and glowing eyes were like a beacon in the gloom.

Edward laid a cool palm against my cheek and flickered his gaze over me critically. "You were with that man again." It wasn't a question, and I could only assume Alice had caught a glimpse of us.

But I nodded, hoping to quell his worry. "I was," I agreed quietly. "We only spoke for a little while."

"But you're okay?" he checked. I nodded again, and despite the obvious relief on his face, he still appeared troubled. "Right. I'm sorry."

My brow furrowed, brain too muddled to keep up. "What?"

"You told me to stay away from your house," he reminded me hesitantly.

"Oh, that." I suddenly remembered the confrontation from earlier in the week. Already it felt like a lifetime ago. I shrugged. "Yeah. I like my privacy. But you can come if you suspect I'm about to be murdered."

My small allowance was all it took for Edward to relax. "That's...that's good," he sighed with relief.

I snorted. "You're such a worry wart."

"You really don't help with that," he teased.

"I can't help it." My honest answer sobered him up.

"Shouldn't you be asleep?" he asked, running a cool thumb over the bruises beneath my red-rimmed eyes.

"I can't," I said, voice cracking and mind flashing back to last night's horrible dreams. I didn't want to dream of drowning―didn't want to remember that it was my fault.

"I'll keep you company?" It came across as a question, but at my nod, Edward backed off and instead, sat on the step beside me. The space was appreciated―the night was already cold enough without him hovering over me. But of course, it didn't erase the small stab of disappointment.

I folded my forearms across my knees, basking in the comfort of his presence. I didn't want to be alone―not with the weight I carried. Even if Edward didn't know it, I found solace in knowing he was one of the few who could somewhat understand and relate to my experience.

Of course, it wouldn't be Edward if he kept his questions to himself. "That man...he's not human, is he?"

"No, he's not," I reluctantly affirmed. Before he could follow up, I continued, "I know you think he'll hurt me, but it's the opposite―without him, I wouldn't be alive." I didn't think Azmon was directly responsible for my situation, but his was the only face I knew, and it would have to be enough. Enough because only he could give me closure.

I could feel the weight of Edward's stare, so I closed my eyes and rested my cheek against my arms.

"Isabella," he spoke almost hesitantly, "I care very much for you. If there's anything I can―"

"I like you too," I whispered, lifting my lids to meet his shocked gaze. In the darkness, his molten eyes glowed. I couldn't look away if I tried, hypnotized by the tide of emotions swirling wildly within them.

I wasn't Bella―I would never be Edward's perfect half. The thought alone was enough to keep up one last wall between him and I. He kept knocking them down and I kept allowing it. But I needed one last assurance that I could walk away from this.

Edward's features had softened and the tender look in his eyes caused my heart to stutter. "Then, why don't you want to be with me?" His question wasn't demanding or bitter. All I could detect was genuine curiosity.

"Because," I whispered, casting my gaze aside, "I can't be honest with you."

"I guess that is a little unfair," he chuckled. "It feels like you know all my secrets, but I can't begin to guess at yours." My silence was telling and he sighed. "Why can't you be honest?"

I closed my eyes again. I didn't know where to begin with that question. I knew I didn't want the same future as Bella―I wanted to grow up, to have a career and a family and a life, even if it was fleeting and temporary. More than that, I wanted my old life back. Azmon had made it clear that it was impossible, but it made me hate Charlie and Renée. I could make new friends, and meet new classmates, and work with new coworkers, but Charlie and Renée would never be my mom and dad. I hated them and I hated myself more for hating them―for being a coward, because without them, I'd be alone. I didn't want to be alone, and somewhere along the way, Edward had also scooted himself into the confines of my heart. And I was too selfish to let him go.

At some point, Edward began to run his fingers through my hair. The soothing gesture caused me to relax. I enjoyed it for as long as I could, before breaking the silence, "It's my last defense." Edward merely hummed in acknowledgment, his hand not pausing, so I continued, "If I tell you everything now, then I can't run away."

Finally, my words registered and he halted, although his fingers remained tangled in my hair, resting against my back. "You want to run away?"

"Yes."

He hummed again and then continued brushing my hair. "Okay."

I frowned and opened my eyes to shoot him a puzzled look. "That's it?"

"Yes. You need time―I can wait. I'm good at waiting."

I muffled a laugh against my arm, "I know."

He glared at me playfully. "Rub my own secrets into my face, why don't you?"

I laughed, louder this time as I sat up. "I'm sorry. You're a bit of a know-it-all, so I guess I'm just surprised...no offense."

Edward rolled his eyes. The uncharacteristic gesture had me laughing again. As soon as I quieted, I found his eyes and my smile softened. "Thank you for coming."

"Always," he promised. It was a different kind of weight―one that was lifting rather than crushing. And yet, it still left me breathless.

I tore my gaze away long enough to notice a much lighter gray sky. "It's morning," I realized. "Is it already time for school?"

"Should you be attending classes?" Edward frowned.

I waved away his concern. "I'm not interested in sleeping," I mumbled, heaving myself to my feet.

"We have an hour before you need to leave," he said, now standing and peering down at me with concern. "Could I pick you up? You shouldn't be driving in your state."

"It's not the first all-nighter I've pulled," I laughed, "But you've been so nice to me, so sure."

A crooked grin split across Edward's face that froze me in place. "Prefect!" In a move quicker than I could follow, he pressed his cold lips against my forehead, and then loped across the yard and vanished into the forest. It wasn't the blurred vampire speed I would've expected, but it was faster than possible for any human. It was as though he wasn't sure whether or not to keep up the pretense.

I pressed a hand flat against my chest, willing the tempo of my heart to slow down. Edward's stunning smile had left me in a stupefied, gooey daze and I hoped he hadn't noticed. Who am I kidding, he looked totally smug. Ugh, the jerk.

Trudging back into the house, I ran into Charlie while ascending the staircase. "What are you doing up so early?" He shot me a perplexed look as he continued down, and I paused to watch him gear up in the front hall.

"Woke up, couldn't go back to sleep," I lied and then called as I continued my way up, "I'm going to shower. Have a good day chief!" He replied in turn before I disappeared.

A/N: Another shoutout to my foreign readers, because more of you came out of the woodworks last chapter to say hi! xD Love you guys! :)

Real quick, I wanted to address something. I had a reader ask me how long I planned for this story to be, as in, am I going through all the books? So, just to clarify, canon is dead. Deader than dead. There will be no going through the books. And I've only outlined like the first twenty chapters of this story, so unless I figure something out soon, updates might get dodgy after that.

Realistically, this story is more slice-of-life, than plot. So, just keep your expectations low, lol!

Anyway, thanks for reading! Please be sure to drop a review before you head out! :)