Ch 9 Eye Of The Storm

"Mors dolorem cordis relinquit quem nemo sanare potest, amor memoriam relinquit quam nemo auferre potest."

Beau arrived at the reservation with Charlie, feeling a heavy weight in his chest. They were both dressed in dark funeral attire, the solemnity of the occasion reflected in their somber expressions. Charlie split off to talk with Bonnie, leaving Beau to navigate the unfamiliar setting alone.

He felt incredibly awkward and out of place as he walked towards the gathering. The Quileute tribal funeral was already in progress, the mournful chants and soft drumming filling the air with a sense of deep reverence and sorrow. Beau scanned the crowd, searching for a familiar face, and finally spotted Jules sitting off to the side.

She sat in silence, her face a mask of stoicism. Beau approached and quietly took a seat beside her. Neither of them spoke, but there was a shared understanding in their silence. He glanced at Jules, noticing the dark bags under her eyes and the signs of stress and weariness that her stone-faced expression failed to hide.

Throughout the ceremony, Beau was filled with a feeling he couldn't shake, one that he shouldn't be here. Not just because he was an outsider, who'd barely known Samantha and was only unfortunate enough to witness her passing firsthand.

Beau should be dead. That was simply a fact. After almost dying so many times it was inevitable he'd feel this way. His number had already been called, instead others had taken his place instead.

In a way, he already was, the Beau he'd been less than a year ago seemed like a different person entirely. He felt more like a ghost than ever, possessing his own body. Reanimated to play piano and hang out with Jules before putting himself back into hibernation.

His mind couldn't help but wonder how long it would be until it was his funeral.

There had to be some sort of reason he was still alive, he simply wished he knew it. When he first met Edythe and nearly died several times in the span of a few weeks, then you could've convinced him he was just lucky. After everything that's happened since she left, Beau just couldn't believe that anymore. It had to be fate or destiny or whatever you wanna call it. That had to be why he'd kept all his experiences as simply near death. The reason he was still resting in his bed instead of a coffin. But why? Why him? He wasn't special, not a doctor or a volunteer at a soup-kitchen, not someone you could easily justify giving your life to protect. He was just…Beau, and that wasn't enough. Never had been.

He didn't know how, but he would be more, do more. So that Samantha and everyone else wouldn't have to die for a loser who'd never amounted to much of anything. He didn't have a choice, to do anything else would be to spit on the life he'd been given.

The service continued, the mournful songs and prayers weaving through the air. Beau found himself watching Jules more than the ceremony. She stared straight ahead, her eyes fixed on a distant point, lost in her thoughts. The loss of Samantha, the burden of leadership, and the strain of their constant battles were etched into every line of her face.

Despite the grief and tension, Beau took comfort in Jules' presence. It was a strange feeling, finding solace in someone who was also suffering, but there was a silent camaraderie between them, born out of shared loss and the harsh realities they faced.

As the service reached its peak, Beau bowed his head in respect, feeling a profound sense of gratitude towards Samantha. She had given her life to save his, and he was determined to honor her sacrifice. He just wished he knew how. The weight of that debt pressed heavily on him, but he knew he wasn't alone in bearing it.

A man stepped forward, his face a mask of sorrow and determination. Beau's breath caught as he looked to Jules with a look of confusion.

Beau cupped his hand around her ear and spoke gently, hoping no one else would hear him.

"Who is that?"

"Elliot. Samantha's fiancé." Jules spoke tersely, never taking her eyes off the podium in front of them as Beau gasped in recognition.

Elliot's appearance was striking. Tall and broad-shouldered, with piercing blue eyes that seemed to hold the weight of the world. His hair, a rich auburn, was tousled by the wind, adding to the rugged handsomeness that had always set him apart. He wore a dark suit, the stark contrast to his usual casual attire a poignant reminder of the day's gravity. But what stood out most were the scars.

Jagged and raw, the scars marred his otherwise handsome face, trailing from his forehead down across his cheek. Beau couldn't help but stare at the marks, wondering what kind of animal could have done such a thing. There was a story there, one Beau didn't know, but the scars told of a violent encounter with a creature far more powerful than any normal animal.

Clearing his throat, Elliot began to speak, his voice steady but laced with emotion. "I wanted to speak, so that we can begin to properly celebrate the life of the amazing woman we've lost."

He appeared to choke up "Samantha was the bravest person I have ever known. She faced every challenge with a strength and grace that inspired us all. Her love for this tribe, for each and every one of you, was boundless."

Beau felt a lump form in his throat as he listened, the sincerity in Elliot's words cutting through the numbness that had settled over him since the news of Samantha's death. He could see the depth of Elliot's love and pain, reflected in the way his hands trembled slightly as he held onto the podium.

"Samantha loved fiercely," Elliot continued, his gaze sweeping over the crowd. "She was a warrior, a protector, and a friend. She gave everything she had to ensure our safety, to ensure that we could have a future. Her actions were not just brave; they were selfless acts of love."

Elliot paused, his voice breaking for a moment. He took a deep breath, steadying himself. "She may no longer be with us, but her spirit, her love, will always remain. In our hearts, in our memories, and in the legacy she leaves behind. Let us honor her by carrying forward her love and bravery, by standing together as she would have wanted."

The crowd was silent, a collective moment of respect and reflection.

After the final prayer, the crowd began to disperse. Beau and Jules remained seated, neither of them eager to break the silence. Finally, Jules spoke, her voice barely above a whisper.

"She was a good leader. And a good friend."

Beau nodded, his throat tight with emotion. "Yeah, she was."

Jules turned to look at him, her eyes searching his face. "Thank you for coming. It means a lot."

Beau managed a small, sad smile. "I owed her that much. And more."

Jules nodded, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "We all did."

They sat there for a while longer, the silence between them filled with unspoken words and shared grief. Beau knew that the road ahead would be difficult, but in that moment, sitting beside Jules, he felt a flicker of hope. They would find a way to carry on, to honor Samantha's memory, and to face whatever challenges lay ahead. Together.

Beau lingered at the edge of the funeral gathering, the weight of grief pressing down on him like a physical force. He glanced at Jules, who stood by his side, her face a mask of stoic sadness. When she turned to him and quietly asked for some time alone, he nodded, understanding the need for solitude in moments like these. As Jules walked away, Beau's eyes scanned the crowd, noticing someone conspicuously absent.

Lee.

Driven by curiosity and a vague sense of unease, Beau started wandering. The path led him away from the mournful gathering and down to the beach, where the rhythmic sound of crashing waves offered a stark contrast to the heavy silence of the funeral. He spotted Lee standing alone by the water's edge, his posture rigid and shoulders hunched.

Beau approached cautiously, unsure of what to expect. Lee turned his head slightly, acknowledging Beau's presence without surprise.

"You weren't at the funeral," Beau stated, more as an observation than an accusation.

Lee's lips twisted into a bitter smile. "Didn't see the point. What good does standing there do when she's already gone?" As he finished speaking he whipped his wrist around, causing Beau to flinch before he saw the stone fly out, skipping across the water's surface.

Beau fell silent, unsure how to respond. Instead, he moved closer, standing beside Lee and looking out over the water. The two stood there in awkward silence, the tension between them palpable.

"Love sucks." Beau stated plainly, breaking the silence, grabbing a small stone from the shore and skipping it across the lake, failing miserably.

It was a gross oversimplification but after today, the words felt more than appropriate.

His words had brought a chuckle out from the man's lips, forcing him to stop skipping his stone and turn to face him. "It does, sometimes I wish I could be asexual, lock myself in a box and never talk to another person again."

"It's supposed to be this whole big reason for living, right? So why does it hurt so damn much? I'm beginning to think if there is a god, he's gotta be a dick."

He threw his stone again, finally succeeding and skipping it almost a dozen times before he lost track of it.

Lee snorted, a harsh, humourless sound. "Definitely. Love's a cruel joke. Makes you feel like you're on top of the world, only to rip your heart out when you least expect it."

Beau nodded, feeling an unexpected kinship in their shared pain. "Huh, it's easier to be honest with someone if you don't like them," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Lee turned to look at him, his expression softening slightly. "Yeah, maybe it is. Doesn't feel like I have much to lose with you."

Beau glanced at him, noting the raw pain in his eyes. "What happened between you and Samantha?"

Lee sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. "A lot. I loved her. God, I loved her so much it hurt. But it was never simple. There was always Elliot. Always this... distance between us. I thought I could handle it, but I was wrong."

He paused, staring out at the horizon as he threw another rock, angrily, with no attempt to skip it. "I treated her badly sometimes. Tried to push her away because it hurt too much to see her with someone else. Now... now I'd give anything just to have one more day with her. One last argument. Anything."

Beau felt a pang of sympathy, his own memories of lost love surfacing. "I know how you feel," he said quietly. "Losing someone you love... it leaves a hole nothing can fill."

Lee's gaze shifted to Beau, his eyes reflecting a mix of regret and sorrow, his words a barely choked out whisper. "I used to think I'd rather die than see her love someone more than she ever could me. But I was wrong. A world without her in it... it's far worse."

Beau nodded, understanding the depth of that pain. "It's like a part of you dies with them. You keep moving, but nothing's ever the same."

Lee looked down, his voice cracking, tearing his gaze away and turning his back to him, facing out at the sea. "I never told anyone that before. Guess it's easier to admit to you."

Beau placed a hand on Lee's shoulder, offering a silent gesture of solidarity. "We all make mistakes. But we can learn from them, try to be better. For their memory."

Lee nodded, his tense posture collapsing after the simple gesture. "Thanks, Beau."

They stood in silence for a few moments, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore filling the void. Only interrupted by their occasional grabbing of stones. The pair lazily tossing them into the ocean, losing the pretense of trying to skip them. Beau could feel the animosity between them fading, replaced by a mutual understanding of grief and loss.

"You know," Lee began, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, "just because we had this little heart-to-heart doesn't mean I like you now."

Beau chuckled, feeling a surprising lightness in the midst of their sorrow. "Wouldn't have it any other way. Don't think I've forgotten how you covered me in Vampire blood, I still smell it sometimes when I shower."

Lee's smile widened, the first genuine one Beau had seen on his face. "Guess we'll just agree to never get along, and if you headbutt me again, I'm kicking your ass."

Beau nodded, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Deal."

As they stood there, side by side, the sun began to set, casting a golden hue over the beach. It was a reminder that even in the darkest moments, there could still be a glimmer of light. Despite their shared sorrow, they found solace in each other's company, forging an unspoken bond that transcended their past animosity.

Beau wrinkled his nose as the scent of raw fish filled the kitchen. "Ugh, I don't think I'm ever going to get used to this smell," he complained, holding a fillet at arm's length as the overwhelmingly strong smell hit his senses.

Jules laughed, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Come on, it's not that bad. Plus, it's going to taste amazing once we're done."

Beau raised an eyebrow skeptically. "If you say so. I still think I'd prefer a burger."

"Well, you can make me a burger next time," Jules shot back, grabbing a lemon and slicing it with practiced ease. "But today, we're doing fish. Trust me, by the end of this, you'll be a pro."

Beau sighed dramatically but couldn't hide the smile tugging at his lips. "Alright, chef. What's next?"

"First, we need to season the fillets," Jules instructed, handing him a small bowl of spices. "Just sprinkle this on both sides."

Beau followed her directions, albeit a bit clumsily, finding his usual rhythm disrupted by the presence of another person. "Like this?"

"Yeah, but a little more evenly," Jules said, taking one of the fillets and demonstrating. "See? You want to make sure it's all covered."

Beau watched her, trying to mimic her movements. "Got it. Evenly. I can do that."

Jules grinned, her enthusiasm infectious. "You're getting there. Now, let's heat up the pan."

As Jules turned on the stove and added a splash of oil to the pan, Beau continued seasoning the fish. "You know, this isn't so bad. I might actually be learning something."

As he tilted the fish to get more seasoning on it slid right off, heading straight for the floor before Jules showed off her impressive reflexes by catching it with the pan. Flipping it for good measure with an overly self-satisfied grin plastered across her face.

"Of course you are," Jules said confidently. "I'm a great teacher."

"Yeah, you are," Beau agreed, his tone sincere despite the teasing undertone. "But I've got to say, I'm surprised. I didn't know you knew how to cook."

Jules rolled her eyes playfully. "Hey, my dad taught me how to cook this one recipe, and it's the only thing I can make without setting the kitchen on fire. Fish is our people's specialty."

Beau chuckled. "I guess I'll have to take your word for it. I've never cooked fish before, I don't think I've ever had it."

"Well, today's the day," Jules said with a wink. "And if you ever get tired of cooking at home, you know where to find me."

Beau nodded, feeling a sense of unease wash over him. "I guess I shouldn't be too surprised. After all, Charlie's not exactly a gourmet chef either, and he knows a couple recipes too."

Jules pretended to be offended. "Hey, you take that back, I'm not that bad!"

Beau laughed. "I don't know, Jules. You might be giving him a run for his money. You're almost as clumsy in the kitchen as I am out of it. This is the only thing I've seen you cook that doesn't go in the microwave."

They moved around the kitchen in a comfortable rhythm, their playful banter making the task feel less like work and more like fun.

"So," Beau said, stirring the butter, "how did you learn to cook like this?"

Jules shrugged, a fond smile on her face. "My dad taught me, mom's never been the greatest cook. He always said that knowing how to cook was important, and it's a skill I'd appreciate one day. Turns out he was right."

"Smart man," Beau said, smiling. "I can see where you get it from."

Jules laughed. "Flattery will get you everywhere, Beau."

They continued to chat and joke as they cooked, momentarily forgetting the troubles that usually weighed on their minds. As Jules flipped the fish in the pan, she glanced over at Beau, who was now carefully pouring the lemon juice into the melted butter.

"Look at you, Mr. Chef," she teased. "Next thing you know, you'll be cooking gourmet meals every night."

"Don't get ahead of yourself," Beau replied, laughing. "I'm still more comfortable with burgers. Or pasta. But this is fun. I can see why you like it."

Jules's smile softened. "I'm glad you're enjoying it. It's nice to do something normal for a change."

Beau nodded, feeling the same way. "Yeah, it is."

As the fish finished cooking, Jules showed Beau how to spoon the lemon butter sauce over the fillets, the rich aroma making his mouth water.

"Alright, moment of truth," Jules said, plating the fish and handing Beau a fork. "Try it."

Beau took a bite, his eyes widening in surprise. "Wow, this is really good."

"Told you," Jules said, looking pleased. "See? Now who's almost as bad as Charlie?"

"You're right," Beau agreed, taking another bite. "Thanks for teaching me. This was... fun."

Jules's eyes sparkled with warmth. "Anytime, Beau. Anytime."

They sat down to eat, continuing their light-hearted conversation and enjoying the meal they had prepared together. For a little while, their worries were forgotten, replaced by the simple joy of each other's company.

After dinner, they decided to take a walk to clear their heads. The night was cool, and the sky was dotted with stars. Jules led Beau to a quiet spot near the edge of the woods where they could stargaze without any interruptions.

"Wow, it's beautiful out here," Beau said, lying back on the grass and looking up at the sky.

"Yeah, it really is," Jules agreed, lying down beside him. "It's one of my favorite spots."

They lay there in comfortable silence for a while, simply enjoying the peacefulness of the night.

"You know," Beau said finally, "I've never been much of a stargazer, but I could get used to this."

Jules smiled. "I knew you'd come around, it's becoming a new habit of mine. There's something about the stars that makes everything else seem... insignificant."

"Yeah," Beau agreed. "It's like all our problems just fade away when you look at the bigger picture. Makes you think about how small it all really is."

Jules turned her head to look at him. "You know, for someone who complains about the smell of fish, you're pretty philosophical."

Beau laughed. "Hey, I have my moments."

They fell into another comfortable silence, the weight of their troubles momentarily lifted. But eventually, the reality of their situation crept back in.

"So," Beau said, breaking the silence, "how did you become so good at cooking fish? You make it look easy."

Jules shrugged. "It's the only thing my dad taught me when I was little that I didn't manage to mess up. I guess it just stuck."

"Well, it definitely paid off," Beau said, smiling. "Thanks for the food, Jules, and spending time with me." He paused for a moment to collect himself, trying to make his words sound less pathetic. "Do you still have to head out tonight?"

Jules nodded, her expression serious. "Every night, until we can mount Victor's head on a spike outside the reservation."

Beau's eyes widened. "Isn't that a bit much? Don't get me wrong, I like the idea, or the spirit of it at least, but wouldn't that give away your secret?"

Jules laughed, shaking her head. "Beau, I was kidding. We couldn't do that if we wanted to, remember? You have to burn a vampire so they stay dead."

"Oh right, my bad," Beau said, chuckling nervously. His mind's eye started to picture her hunt, imagining her running through the woods alone, before a figure appeared out of the darkness, red eyes glowing...

Sensing the change in his mood, Jules squeezed his hand. "Tell me what's wrong, Beau."

Beau laughed softly, though it lacked his usual warmth. "I don't know, Jules. I'm just worried. You're sticking together while you 'hunt', right?"

"No," Jules said, shaking her head. "We split up to cover more ground. But we're always connected. If one of us is in danger, the pack will know immediately."

"How does that work?" Beau asked, curious.

"Your guess is as good as mine," Jules replied, shrugging. "Some weird mental link we all share while we're shifted. Every thought, every dream, all laid bare before the others. It's part of why we're so closely knit. We couldn't keep secrets from each other if we wanted to."

"That sounds…terrible," Beau said, grimacing. "You have to hear what everyone thinks? Can't you hide anything, or ignore some of it at least?"

"Nope," Jules said with a rueful smile. "Wish I could, but it's part of the job apparently. At least I don't have to go through what Samantha did with Lee, though I'll admit he's pretty creative when coming up with insults."

"Sounds like him," Beau said, smiling slightly.

They continued to joke and laugh, their playful dynamic making the heavy topics that hung over them feel a little lighter. For now, they were just two friends enjoying the night, finding what little solace they could in each other's company.

Beau parked his car outside Jules' garage, the familiar woosh of the doors as he closed them announcing his arrival. The garage door was half-open, and he could see Jules hunched over the engine of her car, her hands busy with a wrench. The day after Sam's passing had cast a pall over the reservation, and he couldn't shake the feeling of heaviness in the air.

"Hey, Jules," Beau called out softly, stepping into the garage.

Jules looked up, her face lighting up with a tired smile. "Hey, Beau. What's up?"

"Just thought I'd come by and see if you wanted to hang out," Beau said, shuffling his feet. "Get away from...everything for a while."

Jules wiped her hands on a rag and sighed. "That sounds like exactly what I need right now. Let me just clean up a bit."

Beau watched as she finished up, noticing the dark circles under her eyes and the lines of stress etched into her features. Which had only grown since he'd seen her at the funeral. She tossed the rag aside and motioned for him to follow her out of the garage.

They walked aimlessly through the forest, the quiet of nature a stark contrast to the turmoil Jules was going through. They talked and joked, falling into their usual rhythm, but Beau could sense the undercurrent of tension in Jules' laughter.

Eventually, they found a fallen tree to sit on. Jules stared off into the distance, her expression growing serious.

Beau looked to her, and knew he needed an answer. "So….can I ask why you didn't talk to me for weeks after you shifted?"

He watched as her face flushed, draping her long hair over her face to hide from him. "I was scared," whispered Jules, so quietly he'd almost not heard it.

"Scared? Of what? Me?" Beau asked, his eyebrows knitting together in concern.

"No, well, yeah actually," Jules admitted, her voice barely above a murmur. "I was scared of what would happen if you saw me, of how you'd react when you knew that I was a... a monster."

"You're not a monster, Jules, I mean that," Beau said firmly.

"You're only saying that because you don't know. You haven't seen what it's like when we hunt, when we really lose control of ourselves."

"When you're hunting vampires? I'll admit I don't like thinking about what happens if you succeed and catch one, but I understand why you do it, even if I don't like it."

"Vampires are almost impossible to catch," Jules explained, frustration lacing her voice. "They're incredibly fast, and as soon as one catches a whiff of us, they're headed in the opposite direction. Most of it is just racing through the countryside, chasing a scent trail to nowhere. It takes a lot of energy, and if you don't eat enough before you head out, you get... well, hangry."

"Hangry? I'm guessing you don't let them bring snacks," Beau joked, trying to lighten the mood.

Jules let out a dark chuckle before her expression fell back to a grimace. "Added weight is just a hindrance when you're trying to cross long distances. I guess I'm more like the Cullens than I thought. I've had deer, elk, bear, goat, and even one really unlucky normal wolf."

"You ate a wolf? Doesn't that count as cannibalism?" Beau asked, incredulous.

Jules simply shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe. I can still remember the taste..." She had a haunted look in her gaze as she looked past him, her eyes glazing over as she recalled the no doubt unpleasant memory.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Beau offered gently.

"There's nothing to talk about, not really," Jules said, shaking her head. "It's like I'm a passenger inside my own body. I know what I'm doing and even why, doesn't mean I can do anything to stop it. Hunger, emotions, stress, losing control of yourself just sucks, a lot." Despite her casual stone he could tell this had been weighing on her, dark circles hung under her eyes that were beginning to rival his own.

"Sounds awful," Beau said softly.

"It's just a reminder to never get complacent. It was something Sam always warned about. Settling into an easy routine and forgetting the nature of our shifting, how difficult it is to control a wild animal," Jules explained, her voice tinged with regret.

"Is that what happened to Elliot?" Beau asked cautiously.

Jules' face went pale as she looked at him with a wide-eyed expression. "It is," she breathed, her hazel eyes watery as she looked to the ground, an aura of guilt you could practically touch emanating from her shrunken posture.

"It's not gonna happen, Jules," Beau said firmly, trying to reassure her. "You're my best friend. I'm not gonna pretend that I'm scared of you or avoid spending time with you because of some imagined potential danger."

"You should," Jules muttered, her voice breaking. "If I wasn't so selfish, I'd stay away from you myself, to keep you safe."

"You don't decide that, I do, and I've already made my decision," Beau stated, his voice unwavering.

"You're really stubborn, you know that, right?" Jules said, a hint of a smile playing on her lips.

"Of course I am. I learned from the best," Beau replied with a grin.

Jules chortled, a comfortable silence settling between them as they gazed up at the night sky. He didn't know any constellation aside from the Big Dipper, which was all he could spot.

"Have you ever thought about the future, Beau?" Jules asked, her voice quiet.

Beau shrugged. "Not really. I mean, I have no plan. Everything's been so... chaotic."

Jules nodded, her eyes fixed on a point far beyond the trees. "Yeah, I get that. My future's been decided for me, though. I'm stuck here, leading the pack. I can't leave, especially not after losing Sam. They need me."

Beau could see the pain in her eyes, the weight of her responsibilities pressing down on her. "I'm sorry, Jules. It must be really hard."

Jules laughed bitterly. "Yeah, it is. I always thought I'd have choices, you know? Go to college, maybe travel a bit. Now, I'm here for life. At least I don't have to listen to my mom nagging me about college anymore."

Beau saw through her attempt at humor. "You deserved to make your own choices, Jules. It's not fair."

She turned to look at him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Fair or not, it's my reality now. I have to be strong for the pack. But sometimes... I just want to scream."

A spark lit behind Beau's eyes as an idea struck him. "Wanna try it out?"

Jules cocked her head, her eyes searching his face. Giving him a disbelieving look but quickly matching his growingly giddy energy.

"I mean, we're pretty far from the reservation. We might scare a few hikers, but who cares?" said Beau, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Aren't you supposed to be like, the most self-conscious man in America? You seriously wanna scream your head off in the woods?"

"If you don't think you can handle it, I understand. I guess it's just something for us men. You know, since we don't have to worry about breaking our nails."

"Please, Beau, you learned that trick from me. I'm only going if you do. I'm not gonna scream my head off and have you laughing like an idiot once I do."

They both laughed at the image, the tension between them easing as they shared a moment of simple, spontaneous joy.

Beau felt his stomach drop moments later as he realized his taunt was now turned right back at him. The thought had appeared so randomly in his brain he'd not put any thought into actually doing it.

Tentatively, he stood up from the rocky outgrowth they'd rested on, stealing glances in every direction as he prepared himself.

He'd done this once before, like all little kids he'd been curious what the loudest sound was that he could make.

That had been when he was alone, at home, and screaming into a pillow. Now that he was about to go through with his own plan, the difference was plain as day.

There had also been that day in the woods. Beau found it best to pretend that had never happened, though the unhealed marks on his hands told a different story.

Still it wouldn't be hard. All he had to do was focus on that ever-present pit in his stomach, focus on it and draw on it, then push his vocal chords until he ran out of air.

He looked at Jules' whose face was enraptured as she watched him, the smirk on her lips telling him she was only waiting until he chickened out.

So he did it, exactly how he had on that night in the woods.

Once he got past the initial trepidation, it was easy. This time it felt... good. Like he was loosening up the valve keeping all his negative emotions trapped inside him.

Jules' face was one of utter shock, her eyes like saucers and mouth openly gaping at him. Beau scratched the back of his neck as a wave of self-consciousness crashed down on him.

"There, surprisingly, it does help. Give it a try. You gotta be able to do better than that," Beau said, trying to lighten the mood.

Jules watched his lips move but still looked lost. He had to snap his fingers a couple of times beside her ears before she snapped out of it.

"I'm sorry, but what the hell was that!?" she exclaimed.

"Was it too much? Sorry, I guess I got a little carried away," Beau apologized.

"It was... something. Please, don't ever do that again," she pleaded.

"You're really not gonna do it?" Beau asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Now I didn't say that. Give me a second, Beau," she replied, shaking her head violently before chugging the rest of her water. She took a deep breath, bracing her whole body for what came next.

It wasn't a scream, more like a roar, a deep bellowing noise that had no business coming from the body of a girl smaller than him. Instead of falling in pitch, it steadily rose as it reached its crescendo.

As her cries reached their peak. they became much more human, familiar somehow. That of a young girl, full of pain and loathing.

Suddenly, Beau was not sitting peacefully among the wood. With the sun shining overhead, casting a pleasant glow that perfectly suits these rare moments of companionship amidst the constant chaos of their lives.

Instead, now it was dark, pitch black. Not even the light of the moon was present on a night this dark.

Beau's fist clenched as he held onto a phantom metal pole, his nails pressing into his palms hard enough to draw blood. As he mimed driving it into Lauren's eye socket, able to feel each muscle, each tendon snapping as he drove it deeper and deeper into her skull.

His nostrils burned as the soft smells of the forest were replaced with the sickly metallic tang of blood. It was so strong that he was able to taste it on his tongue as his stomach heaved. The only thing keeping him from vomiting at that moment was his empty stomach.

He squeezed his eyes shut and crushed his ears between his hands as he tried to force away the horrible sounds and sights assaulting him, the screams reverberating and bouncing in his ears.

Jules had stopped, but the sounds didn't. She was shaking him as he stood, frantically trying to tell him something. Her words came out as garbled nonsense, as if she was speaking to him underwater.

He was suddenly conscious of the fact that he was speaking, his mouth moving with a will of its own, able to say the only phrase that made sense in his insane brain, still unsure of where exactly he was amidst all the turmoil.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he repeated.

Jules slapped him, hard. So hard that his head shook like a bobblehead as he felt his senses return to him. He momentarily forgot everything aside from the sharp pain in his cheek.

"Is Beau home?" Jules asked, concerned.

"I am. I'm sorry you had to see that," Beau replied, his voice shaky.

"Apology accepted. Now do you mind telling me exactly what that was? I'm not that scary, am I?" Jules inquired, still shaken.

Beau reached out and took her hand, squeezing it gently. The sensation did wonders for his frayed nerves. "It wasn't your fault. You didn't scare me. It was... hearing that, it brought back some... unpleasant memories that I just really want to forget."

"Beau, I'm here for you. Whatever it is, I want you to tell me. Let me help," Jules insisted, her voice softening.

He gave her hand a squeeze in appreciation before pulling away. "Shouldn't that be my line? I'm fine, Jules. I'm more worried about you."

"Beau, you're not fine. Don't pull this crap on me again. It doesn't matter if I'm the president of the whole country, I'll always have time for you," she said firmly.

Beau smiled, a small, grateful smile. "Thanks, Jules. I needed to hear that."

They sat there in silence for a while, the weight of their unspoken fears and hopes hanging in the air. For a moment, the world outside their friendship seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them, finding solace in each other's presence amidst the chaos.

The early morning fog clung to the trees as Beau laced up his running shoes on the foot of his bed, his eyes watching the clouds from his window. The sky was painted in shades of grey, hinting at the dawn's approach.

He had recently resumed his morning runs, for the first time since he'd been forced to stop because of his injury. Now he hoped they might help clear his mind. At the very least it gave him something to occupy himself with.

Beau's life had fallen into a monotonous routine. It was Sunday, Charlie had already left for the lake. If he didn't head down to the beach at some point today he'd have an annoyed wolf standing outside his house waiting for him.

They were supposed to be his protectors, watching out for Victor as apparently his house 'reeked' of bloodsuckers. Recently, they'd started to feel more like prison guards, constantly watching him and shepherding him between the same three points. School, his house, the reservation, rinse and repeat.

Jules had tried to talk him into taking up one of her brother's old rooms and living at the reservation fully. Beau refused, claiming that Charlie would die of starvation without him to cook. That or burn the house down in an attempt to replicate one of his recipes.

That wasn't why, it had been an idiotic gesture, as if by sleeping somewhere else it would somehow put some much needed distance between him and his best-friend.

They'd become inseparable during the times she wasn't out hunting Victor with the rest of the pack. Whatever they were now, it was something more than simply friends, it couldn't be more than that. When they walked together, they held hands, she grabbed his own and at some point, he'd stopped pulling away. She kissed him on the cheek, which he also ceased resisting. Simply thankful she was not bold enough to go for his lips.

Beau felt like nothing he said was getting through to her on that front. He'd thought getting it out of the way early would keep her from pursuing him but that had only made her work harder at it.

It wasn't like he enjoyed it, constantly reminding Jules that they were friends and only friends. Constantly seeing the hurt in her eyes she could never hide from him whenever he rejected her.

He'd thought this was something he'd put to rest, his feeling already stated, clear as day. Jules' opinion on the subject clearly differed.

He owed Jules everything at this point. She was the reason he was still sane, capable of being happy and above all else, alive. He could spend the rest of his life by her side and not come close to repaying such a massive debt.

There was just one problem with that. One teensy little gigantic gaping hole in his logic.

Beau didn't want that, not really. He'd said it before, he liked Jules but not in that way. There was only one person he had and he was too broken to even let them back in.

He couldn't stop spending time with her, hopefully she'd realize the futility of her attempts and give up eventually, though knowing the girl as he did it wasn't likely.

His fingers flitted across his instrument playing a nervous riff that reflected his own feelings, letting the sensation momentarily soothe his nerves as he collected his thoughts.

Self-consciousness had forced him to play his music with headphones in. Knowing that if he didn't he'd constantly worry which wolf was on 'Beau duty' that night and whether or not they'd start mocking his new hobby while it was still in its infancy. Lee didn't need any more ammunition even if they were 'cool' now.

Resting his instrument on the bed, his eyes darted to the CD still resting atop his headboard, the elegant calligraphy still able to make his heart ache. He had promised Archie he'd listen to it but hadn't said when.

It had been a long time since he'd heard it, but he knew what it would do to him when he heard it. He could afford to ignore it for another day, he'd only listen to it when he was ready, not before.

Beau had recently resumed his morning runs, after he'd been forced to stop because of his leg. Now he hoped they might help clear his mind. At the very least it gave him something to occupy himself with.

As he went outside onto his porch to stretch, he noticed Jules emerging from the forest, her face set in a scowl.

"Morning," Beau called out, trying to keep his tone light despite the obvious storm cloud hanging over her head. Was this how everyone else felt dealing with him? He hoped not.

Jules grumbled something unintelligible, kicking a loose pebble across the yard. "Morning," she finally muttered, her voice heavy with frustration. "Another night of running circles around Seattle, and we're no closer to getting Victor to come out and face us. It's like chasing a ghost who doesn't even care enough to haunt you."

Beau nodded sympathetically. "Sounds rough. Want to blow off some steam? I was just about to head out for a run. You can join me if you want."

Jules glanced at him, her expression softening slightly. "Sure, why not? Could use the distraction."

They started down the path together, the morning air crisp and cool against their skin. Beau set a moderate pace, conscious of his own endurance limits. Jules, however, seemed to move effortlessly beside him.

"So," Beau began, trying to strike up a conversation. "What's it like, this new life of yours? Being a wolf and all."

Jules sighed, her breath visible in the cold air. "It's... intense. Everything's heightened. Emotions, senses, instincts. But it's also exhausting. Being constantly on edge, always ready for a fight at any moment."

Beau nodded, listening intently. "Do you miss your old life?"

"Sometimes," Jules admitted. "But I can't afford to dwell on it. Got to stay focused, keep the pack together."

They ran in companionable silence for a while, the rhythmic pounding of their feet the only sound. Beau's breath began to come in shorter gasps, his legs burning with the effort. He glanced at Jules, who was barely breaking a sweat.

"You... really make this look easy," Beau panted, trying to keep up.

Jules flashed him a playful grin. "This is nothing. I could run three times as fast if I shifted."

"Show-off," Beau retorted, smiling despite his fatigue.

Jules laughed, the sound clear and genuine. "Hey, you're doing pretty good for a human. Besides, it's not about speed. It's about pushing yourself."

Beau appreciated her encouragement, even as his legs threatened to give out. "Thanks. It's nice, having someone to run with. Keeps me motivated."

"Same here," Jules agreed. "It's good to have a break from all the pack stuff. And... it's nice to talk, you know? Like normal people do."

As they continued their run, Beau's curiosity got the better of him. "So, what makes you shift? Is it like... the Hulk or something?"

Jules furrowed her brow. "The Hulk?"

"You know, the big green guy from the comics. Mild-mannered Bruce Banner transforms into the incredible hulk when he gets mad." Beau explained.

"Oh," Jules chuckled. "Yeah, I guess it's kind of like that. Strong emotions can trigger it. Anger, fear, even extreme stress. But it's not just about losing control. Sometimes, it's a conscious choice."

Beau nodded, intrigued. "Is it dangerous to be around you guys when you're like that?"

Jules sighed, her expression growing serious. "It can be. When we first start to shift, our animal instincts take over. We become predators. Anything that looks like prey... well, it doesn't stand much of a chance."

"So you have to learn how to control it?

"Pretty much, Samantha taught all of us how we have to constantly be in control of our emotions, because if we lose control for even a second…" Her words trailed off as a fearful look entered her eyes, her gaze darting between her own hands and his face.

"You've shifted right next to me more than a few times, I didn't feel in any danger then, not from you at least."

"Yeah, that was… a really really bad idea. I could've killed you Beau, if there hadn't been Vampire's nearby, or the other pack members to keep me grounded. It's so easy to lose control Beau, too easy. That's what scares me."

"It's okay Jules, I trust you completely. If you do hurt me, or even kill me it's not your fault, and for the record, I'd forgive you if you did."

"No! Don't you get it Beau!? I'm a monster, all that keeps me from killing people just like those filthy bloodsuckers is a razor's edge. Knowing what I could do, to you, to anyone… I hate it, more than anything."

"Jules, you know that's not true. I'm alive, see? I never thought I'd be the one to say this but stop worrying about what could happen. We could both get struck by lightning, die regardless of anything we choose to do. No matter what happens, I'd still rather spend my time with the only friend I've got left."

"Yeah well, maybe you need to get better friends, the kind that can't rip your face off if you get into a heated argument."

Beau was slightly put off by this revelation but tried not to show it. "Nah, guess I'm used to it, besides what would we argue about? It's like having regular friends, just with the added thrill of extreme sports, or roller coasters."

Jules laughed, the tension breaking. "You're nuts, you know that?"

"Yeah, well," Beau grinned. "Both my best friend and my girlfriend were vampires before this. So, you might be onto something."

Jules shook her head, still smiling. "You're one of a kind, Beau Swan."

They continued running, conversation r flowing easily between them. The natural chemistry they shared made the run enjoyable, even as Beau's legs threatened to give out. As they neared the end of their route, Beau slowed to a stop, hands on his knees as he caught his breath. Jules jogged in place, still full of energy.

"Not bad, Swan. Not bad at all."

"Thanks," Beau wheezed, looking up at her with a grin. "Maybe next time, I'll even keep up with you."

Jules chuckled. "We'll see about that. Same time tomorrow?"

Beau nodded, straightening up. "Yeah. Same time tomorrow."

With that, they parted ways, Beau feeling lighter than he had in weeks. The run had done more than clear his mind; it had solidified a new bond, one that promised to grow stronger with each shared morning.

Beau was pacing in the kitchen, waiting for Jules to return from her hunt with the pack. It was stupid for him to be worrying about them, he knew firsthand what they were capable of doing to a Vampire, especially when they were together. Yet Sam had been just as confident, more so than Jules herself, and look where that got her.

It was a harsh truth, but the truth nonetheless, nobody was invincible. The only consistent rule in this world was that there are no rules.

Jules still hadn't replaced the phone she'd smashed while avoiding him. So he had to wait, at least he remembered this time to tell her to stop by his house whenever she returned so he'd know she was still alright.

He glanced at the clock again, anxiety gnawing at him. When the door finally opened, he rushed to the living room, relief flooding his features, only to freeze in his tracks.

Jules stood there, her tight shirt soaked in blood. "Jules! You're hurt!" Beau's voice was frantic as he hurried to her side, eyes wide with concern.

Jules looked down at herself, seemingly noticing the blood for the first time. "Oh, this? It's nothing," she shrugged, her casual tone doing little to ease Beau's worry.

"Nothing? You're soaked in blood!" Beau gently took her arm, leading her to the bathroom. "Sit down. Let me see."

Jules sighed but complied, sitting on the edge of the bathtub. "You're such a worrywart," she teased, but there was a softness in her eyes as she watched him gather supplies.

Beau carefully lifted her shirt, wincing at the deep gash running across her side. "This doesn't look like nothing, Jules."

"It'll heal," Jules assured him, though she winced as he cleaned the wound. "Just a scratch."

Beau frowned, reexamining the long and deep slash with a look of consternation. "How did this happen?"

"Got unlucky, ran into some nomadic bloodsucker wandering in the wrong place at the wrong time. You should see the other guy. Or what's left of him anyway."

"You fought a vampire yourself? Why didn't you wait for the others?" asked Beau, his voice tinged with a peculiar mix of both irritation and worry.

"Because I'm no pushover, once I had the bloodsuckers leg he was done for." She spoke coldly, a hint of satisfaction in her tone as she pointed at the already healing wound. "This was just a desperate attempt to do some damage while he was already losing."

Beau shook his head, his hands steady despite the tremor in his voice. "You shouldn't be putting yourself in danger like this. This is my feud, my fight. You have no role in this."

Jules's expression hardened, and she reached out, cupping his face with her hand. "If it's your fight, then it's my fight too, Beau. "

"It doesn't have to be. Please. If you get hurt because of me, indirectly or not, I'll never forgive myself."

Jules expression broke into a small smile, her hand tentatively reaching out to grasp his."I'll be fine Beau, I promise. You can't get rid of me that easily."

Beau looked into her eyes, seeing the determination there. "I just... I don't want to lose you."

"You won't," Jules said firmly. "I'm tougher than I look." She winced again as he finished cleaning the wound, but her eyes never left his. "See? Already starting to heal."

Beau watched in awe as her flesh began to stitch itself back together, the supernatural process both fascinating and terrifying. "Still, be careful, okay?"

Jules grinned. "I'll try. But you know, danger is kind of our thing now." She stood, pulling her shirt back down. "Come on, let's go look at the stars again. I need to get out of this house."

Beau hesitated but nodded, leading the way outside. The night was clear, the sky a canvas of stars. They found a spot on a hill, lying back on the cool grass, the tension of the day slowly melting away.

"Remember when we used to do this all the time?" Jules asked, her voice soft.

"Yeah," Beau replied, smiling. "Seems like forever ago."

"It does, Doesn't it?"

As the conversation lightened, they lay back, staring up at the stars. The night was peaceful, a stark contrast to the chaos of their lives.

"Do you ever think about how ridiculous all this is?" Beau asked, a hint of a smile on his lips.

"All the time," Jules replied, her tone playful. "I mean, who else gets to say their best friend's ex is a vampire and gets to be the Alpha for their very own pack of werewolves?"

Beau laughed, the sound echoing in the quiet night. "It's like we're in some twisted fairy tale."

"Yeah, a really dark and messed-up fairy tale," Jules agreed. "Obviously I'm the knight in shining armor." Pounding her chest as she spoke, then elbowing him with the other, a cheeky grin he easily matched on her lips.

"Clean yourself up a bit and you might make a pretty good damsel in distress."

Beau chuckled, "My hair's too short, if you're the knight and I'm the princess who's the dragon? Victor?"

She didn't answer, instead her look turned more serious as they locked eyes.

Oh.

She wasn't talking about Victor, not this time. There was only one other 'monster' she wished to save him from. Little did she know that it was too late. His smile faded, which seemed to be enough to snap Jules out of her apparent trance.

Sensing the shift in mood Jules tried to rescue the situation as he pulled his hand away. An edge of nervousness in her voice. "At least we have each other, right?"

Beau gave her a small smile, though it felt more forced than the one before it.. "Yeah, we do. Thanks for sticking around, Jules."

"Always," she said, reaching out and squeezing his hand again. "We're in this together."

They fell into a comfortable silence, the stars above them a silent witness to their bond. Despite the looming threat of Victor and the uncertainty of their future, in that moment, they found solace in each other's company.

The garage was dimly lit, filled with the faint scent of motor oil and cedar. Tools and car parts cluttered the space, but it was a familiar, comforting mess for both Jules and Beau. They had come to this makeshift sanctuary to escape the weight of their thoughts.

Jules pulled out an old bottle of whiskey, dusting it off with a smirk. "Want a drink?" she asked, her eyes gleaming mischievously.

Beau chuckled. "Why not? We could both use a little something to take the edge off."

She poured them each a generous glass, and they clinked them together before taking their first sips. The burn of the alcohol was a welcome distraction, momentarily easing the tension that had settled over them since Samantha's funeral.

Their conversation started light, filled with reminiscing about old times and playful banter, but inevitably, the tone shifted. Beau stared into his glass, the amber liquid swirling as his mind drifted to darker thoughts.

"Jules," he began hesitantly, "Sam, what was she really like?"

Jules sighed, her expression softening. "Sam was... she was complicated. Strong, fiercely protective of us. Terrifying but also incredibly kind at times. She had this way of making you feel safe, like everything was going to be okay even when it wasn't. But, you know, I was so rude to her, especially at the beginning."

Beau looked up, surprised. "Why? You two seemed close."

"I blamed her for my shifting," Jules admitted, her voice tinged with guilt. "I knew it was illogical, but she was the closest target for my frustration."

"I know what you mean." spoke Beau, his own voice tinged with regret.

"But now, as the leader, I'm just thankful I had someone like Sam to show me the ropes. Without her, I've come to realize just how difficult her job was. Now I don't blame her for trying to pawn it off on me."

Beau nodded, his throat tightening. "I was so rude to her too, especially towards the end. I wish I could've said something better. Something that showed her I appreciated what she did, even if I didn't always agree with it."

"Me too," Jules admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I was always so caught up in everything, so busy hating myself and everyone like me, that I didn't take the time to really connect with her. Now it's too late."

Silence fell between them, the only sound the occasional clink of their glasses. Beau glanced at Jules, noting the strain in her eyes. "How are you holding up? Leading the pack, I mean."

Jules shook her head. "Not now, Beau. I don't want to talk about that." She then countered, "What about that day in the woods? When you heard me scream you said… it brought back... memories?"

Beau looked down, avoiding her gaze. "I don't want to talk about that either."

They were at a standstill, both unwilling to open up, both drowning in their own regrets and fears. The silence between them grew heavier, laden with the things they couldn't say.

They continued to drink, the whiskey dulling the edges of their pain but not erasing it. Beau's mind kept drifting back to Samantha, her strength, the way she had faced her battles with a quiet resolve. Something he had never been able to do himself.

Out of nowhere, Jules leaned in and kissed him, her lips urgent against his. Beau pulled back, startled. "Jules, stop, don't do that without asking first."

She looked away, a mix of frustration and embarrassment crossing her face. "Sorry. I just... I don't know."

The tension between them was palpable, the air thick with unresolved emotions and unsaid words. They sat there in the dim light of the garage, the weight of their shared and individual sorrows pressing down on them, unsure of what to do next but knowing that things had just gotten a lot more complicated.

Beau got up to leave, but found a hand stopping him, clasping around his wrist as he could feel the heat pouring out from her limbs.

"Jules, let go of my arm."

Beau sat alone in his room, the soft glow of his desk lamp casting a warm light over the keyboard in front of him. The shadows danced on the walls, creating an intimate cocoon around him. He took a deep breath, his fingers hovering above the keys as he remembered the CD Edythe had left him. Sliding it into the player, he closed his eyes and let the first notes of "Beau's Lullaby" wash over him.

At the Cullen house, Edythe sat at her grand piano, her fingers resting gently on the ivory keys. The room was dimly lit, the soft firelight from a large candelabra casting a gentle glow. It had been months since she had played, but tonight, she felt a pull she couldn't resist. She began to play, her heart aching with every note.

Beau's fingers moved over the keyboard, matching the melody note for note. The music started out cheerful and light, the tones filled with fervor and excitement. He could feel the warmth and love in each note. The emotions were so strong and overwhelming that they were like a tsunami, crashing and moving aside anything caught in its path. The sound resonated throughout the room, each note a clear declaration of love.

The sun had long set, and a pale moonlight streamed through the window, casting an ethereal glow on Beau's watery eyes and beat-down expression. Each note he played seemed to illuminate his memories, bringing them vividly to life. The room was filled with a palpable sense of nostalgia and longing.

Edythe played the same notes, her mind drifting back to the times she spent with Beau. The love she felt was tangible, warming her cold, dead heart. Her eyes closed, she poured her emotions into the music, feeling a connection across the vast distance that kept them apart. The night outside was calm, the stars glittering like distant memories, each one a reminder of the beautiful moments they had shared.

The music began to swell, the notes lifting and twirling, as if they were dancing on air. Beau's heart raced with the tempo, each beat echoing the rhythm of his memories—the way Edythe's smile would light up his world, the warmth of her touch. Tears began to pour from his eyes as the realization hit him fully. The music was a confession, a heartfelt declaration that words could never capture.

Edythe's eyes were closed, her fingers dancing over the keys with a grace that seemed almost supernatural. She was lost in the music, each note a thread that wove together the fabric of their shared past. 'I love you, Beau, and I'll never, ever, ever stop,' she thought, her heart echoing the melody.

The song's pace quickened, becoming anxious and afraid. Beau's fingers moved faster, the notes carrying a sense of despair mixed with hope. He could feel the anxiety in the melody, the fear of losing something precious. The room seemed to close in on him, the walls vibrating with the intensity of the music.

Edythe's fingers danced over the keys, mirroring Beau's emotions. She felt the same fear and hope, her mind racing with memories of their time together. The all too brief kisses, the walks between class with their hands clasped together, joy and happiness distilled into their purest forms. The song picked up speed, the excitement building to a frantic pace. Her surroundings faded away, leaving only the music and the emotions it carried.

The lightness of the music stopped abruptly, the notes darkening and slowing. Beau's hands trembled as he played the final part of the melody, each note dragging the song down to a dark place. The inevitability of their situation weighed heavily on him, the tragic end to a love story that had always been impossible. The room felt colder, the warmth of the lamp unable to chase away the chill in his heart.

Edythe's fingers faltered, her eyes filling with crimson tears. She felt the pain of their separation, the hopelessness of trying to find love in a world full of hatred and untold horrors. The music echoed her sorrow, each note a reminder of what she had lost. Her surroundings, once a sanctuary, now felt like a prison.

Beau's vision blurred with tears as he played the final notes. The song ended, leaving him feeling empty and alone. His tears were warm and salty, a stark contrast to the coldness he felt inside. The silence that followed was deafening, the absence of music amplifying his sense of loss.

Edythe's crimson tears stained her cheeks, a symbol of the love she had ruined for herself. She sat in silence, her heart heavy with regret and longing. The room, once filled with the vibrant notes of their love, now stood still, each corner echoing the haunting silence of their separation.

He closed his eyes, the music wrapping around him like a comforting blanket. The notes seemed to echo the unspoken words between them, carrying with them a longing that could never be fulfilled. The room felt both vast and confining, each shadow a ghost of a moment they had shared.

In their separate worlds, Beau and Edythe cried together, connected by the music and the love they still felt for each other. Despite the distance and the pain, the melody of "Beau's Lullaby" brought them closer, if only for a moment. The night outside was silent, the stars bearing silent witness to their shared sorrow.

As Beau sat alone in his room, the melody of Edythe's lullaby still resonating in the air, he couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness that had gripped his heart. Memories of their time together flooded his mind, each one a bittersweet reminder of a love that was both beautiful and forbidden. The room, filled with the soft glow of the desk lamp, seemed to pulse with the echoes of their past.

Meanwhile, at the Cullen house, Edythe sat at her grand piano, crimson tears glistening in her eyes as she replayed the haunting melody. The weight of her decisions bore down on her as she thought of the pain she had caused Beau, the one person she loved above all others. The room, bathed in the soft glow of the candlelight, seemed to pulse with the echoes of their past.

In that moment, across the distance that separated them, Beau and Edythe shared a connection that transcended words. It was a bond forged in love and loss, in hope and despair. In Life and Death.

The night outside was silent, the stars bearing silent witness to their shared moments of sorrow.

"Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal."

AN: If someone you know or care for is experiencing a mental health episode, please, do not hit them. This has been a public service announcement, thank you for reading.