Back to the Start

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Mind Over Matter

Bella didn't have any other choice but to comply. She had no idea where Jacob was, or how to even begin searching for him. If she refused to get into the car, she would be left stranded in the middle of nowhere. At least after Edward dropped her home, she could contact Billy in La Push and tell him what had happened. She hoped he would have a better idea of what to do in order to track Jacob down. It was critical they set things in motion as fast as possible, who knew what condition Jacob would be in-mental and physical.

Bella knew the next few hours would either pass as a blip during the course of her life, or they would be the final trauma that broke her. As she climbed into the passenger seat of the Volvo, the memory of what had happened to Jacob in the meadow resurfaced, making her swallow hard, the worry about his welfare overwhelming. Bella willed her eyes to remain dry and her mind focused. She could feel Edward watching closely, she needed to show strength, to embody the way forward, keep her own fears and grief away from devouring her completely. She would not show weakness in front of him.

As Edward drove, he kept to the speed limit. Like so many things, it seemed to be effortless to him. He barely looked at the road, yet the tires never deviated so much as a centimeter from the center of the lane. He drove one handed, his other hovering near Bella, as if he was battling with himself whether to reach for hers. She cringed away from him, keeping as much space between them as the car would allow.

Sometimes Edward gazed into the setting sun, sometimes he glanced at Bella- her face, her hair blowing out of the open window, her pensive expression. He had turned the radio onto an oldies station, and he hummed along with a song Bella had never heard.

"I like fifties music." He said to kickstart the conversation.

Bella shrugged, not really interested in his musical tastes. Her mind was filled with worry over Jacob. Nothing mattered to her but him.

"Music in the fifties was good." Edward continued. "Much better than the sixties, or the seventies, ugh!" He gave a pretend shudder. "The eighties were bearable."

Bella still didn't say anything. Her gaze was focused on the road ahead, her mind counting the seconds until she got home.

"Maybe it will help if I tell you a little about myself." Edward glanced at her, hoping for some sign she was even listening, but she remained rigid in her seat, not even doing the courtesy of looking his way. He sighed, upset by her lack of interest. He continued to stare at her as he drove, seeming to forget the road for a time. When she still didn't show any sign of interest, he looked into the sun-the light of the setting orb glittered off his skin in ruby tinted sparkles-and spoke anyway.

"I was born in Chicago in 1901." He paused and glanced again at Bella from the corner of his eyes. She was still staring straight ahead. He sighed again and continued. "Carlisle found me in the hospital in the summer of 1918. I was seventeen, and dying of the Spanish influenza."

Now this did provoke a reaction. Bella drew in a sharp intake of breath, though it was barely audible to human ears.

"I don't remember it well-it was a very long time ago, and human memories fade." Edward became lost in thought for a moment before he went on. "I do remember how it felt, when Carlisle saved me. It's not an easy thing, not something you could forget."

Finally, Bella spoke, but still didn't look at him. "Carlisle saved you?" She said sarcastically. "Exactly how did he do that? It seems to me that he condemned you, not saved you."

Edward flinched at her cold assessment of the man he admired so much. He put both hands on the wheel and gripped it tightly. "That is not how Carlisle saw it. My parents had already died of the disease. I was alone. That was why he chose me. In all the chaos of the epidemic, no one would ever realize I was gone."

Bella glanced at him, then away again, her brown eyes giving away nothing about what she was thinking or feeling about his story. It was immensely frustrating to Edward that he couldn't probe her mind and read her thoughts. She was a mystery. A closed book. It was a few seconds before he carried on with his tale.

"It was difficult. Not many of us have the restraint necessary to accomplish it. But Carlisle has always been the most humane, the most compassionate of us…I don't think you could find his equal throughout all of history." He paused. "For me, it was merely very, very painful."

"So, basically, what you're saying is that Carlisle-this compassionate, humane guy that you are so fond of-changed you against your will, condemning you to an eternal life of boredom and bloodlust? Have I summed it up correctly?"

Edward scowled, hurt by her condemnation of his beloved mentor. "There is no need to be so crass, Bella." He replied bitterly. "Carlisle acted out of loneliness. That's usually the reason behind the choice. I was the first in Carlisle's family, though he found Esme soon after. She fell from a cliff. They brought her straight in to the hospital morgue, though somehow her heart was still beating."

"Did he give Esme the choice? Or did he do to her what he did to you?" Bella asked sardonically.

"Bella, please!" Edward pleaded. "Carlisle would never do that to someone who had another choice."

"That's rubbish!" Bella argued. "If she was dying, then there was no way she could choose. He acted out of selfishness. End of. What if she had woken up to this so-called new life and decided she hated it, that she would rather have died? Has that ever happened? I bet it has. I can tell by the pinched expression on your face."

Edward's jaw set when she said that, and his eyes darted to her face and away so quickly that Bella wasn't sure she imagined it.

"I'm right, aren't I?"

They had reached her house now. Edward parked the car and turned off the engine. It was very quiet and dark, there was no moon. The porch light was off so Bella knew Charlie wasn't home yet, much to her chagrin. She hoped he would be able to give her a ride to La Push, as her truck was still parked outside of Jacob's house.

"Thanks for the lift." Bella muttered as she pushed open the door of the Volvo. "Goodbye, Edward."

"I think I should stay with you." Edward insisted. "Just in case you go into shock or something. Can I come in?"

"No." Bella said bluntly as she slammed the passenger door closed with more force than she intended.

Running up the porch steps, she retrieved the front door key from under the eave, and unlocked the door. She stepped inside, switching on the hall light, and blinking in the sudden brightness.

As soon as her eyes adjusted, she went straight for the phone, nearly misdialing the Black's number in her haste to get through to Billy. She waited on tenterhooks as the phone rang and rang and rang.

The day was growing old, the sun sinking down beneath the tops of the trees. The light streaked through the boughs in both brilliant and shadowy beams. There were birds above, calling, pecking for grubs. There was movement of mammals, mostly small, sometimes not. The sound of the water that flowed quietly was like gentle background music.

The last rays of the dying sun set the russet wolf's fur ablaze. The actions and weight of what he had just done, leant a heaviness to his limbs, his ginormous body feeling like a lead weight, so that it now lay gracelessly limp on the mossy ground.

He was tired.

He was hot.

He was thirsty.

Hungry.

Practically immobile.

And bleeding.

But most of all he was angry.

All the stories his father had told him over the years, the ones he had scoffed at so often, thinking his old man was crazy to believe them, were true, Jacob thought bitterly. It all made sense now: the sudden growth spurt, the heavily defined muscles he was so proud of, the heat, the massive increase in appetite.

It had all been building up for months, creeping up on him unawares this whole time, right when his life was going just how he wanted it, right when he was the happiest he had ever been, right when he had reconnected with the girl of his dreams – then bam! – just like that it was all taken away from him.

Jacob attempted to move, still in the process of trying to get used to his new body, he shifted his massive head a few inches back to inspect the damage to his legs and flanks. A stomach-churning pain ricocheted all the way through him, and he flopped down and gave up.

"Bella, oh, Bella." He thought miserably.

Jacob pictured her lovely face as he had last seen it in the meadow-pale, her mouth open in shock, her chocolate brown eyes wide and fearful. She would never love him now. Now that he was a monster.

He had acted on instinct as soon as he transformed. The beast inside him taking over his mind and body, guiding him toward the detested creatures on the other side of the meadow, the ones whose vile smell burned his nostrils, his brain screaming – kill, kill, kill!

Jacob had chased them for hours as they separated, each leading him a merry dance, veering off in different directions, before coming together again as a trio ready to attack. They thought they were so clever. Thought that by exhausting him, it would make killing him so much easier.

Jacob taught them that overconfidence could be a fatal flaw.

They taught him how fallible his wolf body could be.

He focused on killing the leader. Once he was down, the other two scattered like leaves on the wind, but his victory had come at a cost.

Afterwards Jacob stumbled away, his weary wolf limbs disobeying him as he limped, half dragging his wounded body to, what he hoped, was a place of safety. There was a small brook there, he lapped at the fresh water with his tongue to assuage his raging thirst. There was nothing he could do about the hunger pangs, he would just have to endure those, just as he would have to endure the injuries that had set his body on fire. He would have to wait it out, rest, try and conserve as much energy as possible, before attempting to drag his weary body home…

Home?

A despairing whine escaped his muzzle.

Who was he kidding? Where was home now? He couldn't speak. There was no way that Billy would physically be able to recognize him in this form. He had no idea how to change back. Could he? His ancestors had managed the transition, somehow, flipping from one form to the next. But they had left behind no rule book on how that was supposed to be achieved. What if he was trapped in this form forever? Doomed to roam the forests of the Olympic Peninsula alone, becoming more and more like a wild animal, losing everything about him that made him human?

God, his life was hell. His life was hell, and this was the lowest point of it.

And now someone was coming. He could hear the sound of feet crunching through the undergrowth. He strained his ears to listen, yes, he could definitely hear a heartbeat. Whoever it was, was human. He was in the middle of nowhere, way off the beaten track. It must be a huntsman.

Move, Jacob, you've got to move.

The voice in his head sounded remarkably like Bella's. This longing he felt for her became a road he could walk forever, just to see her again would bring such sweet relief.

Then it hit him like an arrow straight to the heart. He had no idea what had happened to her after he left her behind in the meadow. He had pictured her at home, safe and sound, this whole time. But how would she have gotten back without him to lead the way?

Bella was resourceful, Jacob knew that, he just hoped she had managed to use her natural ingenuity to guide her home somehow after he had chased the vampires away. What if she got lost, though? He had killed the lead vamp, but the other two were still roaming the woods unharmed. What if they had gone back to the meadow and found Bella?

Panic lent him the strength he so sorely needed to haul his injured, exhausted body from the ground. He stood on shaky legs, his head banging, his heart thrumming fragilely like a butterfly's wings in his chest.

I'm coming, Bella, he thought, I'm coming.

A/N-thanks for reading!