Chapter Text
“ Alice ?” Her name was out of my mouth almost before my brain had fully processed her presence, the sound somewhere between a shriek and a sigh.
She rose from her chair with the same effortless grace I remembered, like a ballerina lifting into the air without ever pushing off the floor.
Of course she still moved like that. I used to stop noticing it.
Maybe I would again.
Her hug caught me off guard. Cold, too stiff.
It shouldn’t have surprised me. But maybe I was still too close to remembering another vampire’s touch. Alice wasn’t Victoria - not even close - but my body flinched anyway.
“ You have a lot of explaining to do,” Alice whispered in my ear as she hugged me, too low for Charlie to hear.
I looked over her shoulder just in case, but he didn’t seem to catch it. He was frozen mid-bite, mouth parted slightly, his eyes locked somewhere around my knees.
“Bella, what the hell happened to your legs?”
“Oh,” I stepped back from Alice, glancing down at my own body for the first time since my shower last night.
I’d figured the sweater would cover most of it - my upper body felt worse, anyway - but I hadn’t really thought about my legs.
Bare under my sleep shorts, they looked like a bad abstract painting. My knees were scraped raw, ringed in red with fading yellow edges. A dark bruise was spreading along my right hip, peeking out from the hem of my shorts. And lower, circling one calf, was something that looked a little too much like… fingers.
“ I… fell ,” I said. Weak.
Charlie’s eyebrows climbed. I remembered I was supposed to have been sick in bed all day yesterday.
“ While taking out the trash, ” I added quickly.
Nice, Bella. Real convincing.
Charlie set his fork down with a clatter, frowning.
“You fell?”
There was a thread of doubt in his voice, but not disbelief.
I gave him my best sheepish look.
“Took the trash out barefoot. Wet porch.” I shrugged for good measure. “Gravity’s undefeated.”
He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Jesus, Bells, you gotta be more careful.”
He didn’t look entirely convinced, but after eighteen years of me losing fights with flat surfaces, I guess a tumble off the porch still seemed more plausible than me getting jumped.
“Well, I for one am relieved,” Alice chirped, far too brightly. “I thought you’d been mauled by something.”
She stepped smoothly into his line of sight, her small hand curling around my arm.
“Not that it’s any better, but at least it wasn’t a bear or something.”
She steered me toward the stairs, out of Charlie’s prying gaze.
“Nice to see you, Charlie!” she called over her shoulder, already guiding me up to my room.
Alice shut the door behind us, then immediately wrinkled her nose like she’d smelled something sour.
I stood there, still a little starstruck. Half-convinced I was dreaming.
She crossed to the window and threw it open the rest of the way, making a dramatic retching noise.
“ God , Bella, what is that?”
She leaned over my bed, sniffed, and recoiled like she’d been slapped. With two fingers, she picked up a pillow like it was radioactive and marched it to the window to shake it out into the fresh air.
“What?” I asked, stepping over to sniff the pillow for myself.
“You can’t smell it?” she said, aghast. “It’s all over you.”
The pillow smelled fine to me. Laundry detergent, mostly. And the faintest trace of cedar and wet earth.
“Just smells like Jacob,” I said, before I could think better of it.
Her eyes narrowed. “Jacob who ?”
“My friend. Jacob Black.” I was sure I’d mentioned him to her before.
“ Ugh . Another Black ,” she muttered, sneering. “Don’t tell me that was the mutt I saw this morning.”
It was no secret the wolves and Cullens weren’t exactly friendly - a fact which seemed perfectly justified on the wolves’ part - but her open disdain still shocked me.
I didn’t even think to protest as she began tugging Jacob’s hoodie up over my head.
“Seriously, Bella. Even your hair smells like wet dog.”
She was already halfway into my closet when I managed to speak:
“You saw Jacob this morning?” I asked, crossing my arms - belatedly - over my bare chest.
“You tell me,” Alice said, pulling a wrinkled blue blouse I hadn’t worn in months off a hanger. “I assume he was the werewolf skulking around your lawn when I pulled up.”
She laid the shirt out on the bed, alongside a skirt I was pretty sure I’d never actually worn. I wasn’t entirely sure where she’d pulled that from. Then she turned her attention to my dresser.
“Ooh,” she sang, holding up the black-and-blue embroidered bra I’d never gotten around to wearing. “Look at you, Swan.”
I turned red immediately, caught standing half-naked in the middle of the room.
Alice grinned wickedly. “Matching set, too. If I’d known you were hiding lingerie like this, I’d have raided your drawers years ago.”
She arranged the bra and underwear neatly over the rest of the outfit, then stood back to admire her handiwork like she was dressing a Barbie.
“Now,” she said, gesturing with a single polished finger toward her fashion masterpiece, “get dressed. And while you do, you can tell me exactly how you survived .”
I managed to talk my way into a sweater, on the basis that Charlie hadn’t yet seen my bandaged arm - and probably shouldn’t.
That said, it took entirely too long for her to coordinate the colour of the wool with my sneakers. They were both white, and yet we still cycled through three different options before she settled on one that “didn’t clash.”
There was no arguing out of the denim skirt, though.
I wasn’t exactly upset about the underwear, either. I was fairly certain that if I hadn’t put them on, Alice would’ve smuggled them out in her purse.
“So you planned the whole thing?” she asked, smoothing the collar of the blouse over the neck of the sweater. “That’s actually kind of impressive.”
Her praise went straight to my chest, warm and dizzying.
“You wouldn’t answer my emails,” I said with a shrug.
Alice paused, hands still resting lightly on my shoulders. Her face softened, a flicker of guilt darkening her eyes.
Then she pulled me into another hug.
“Oh, Alice,” I whispered, clinging to her, letting that cloying, sweet scent flood my senses. “I missed you so much.”
“Well,” she said with a soft smile, already drifting across the room in search of a hairbrush, “we’re back now.”
She was still talking, her voice light and musical, but I wasn’t listening anymore. A sudden, crushing anxiety swept through me, sharp and breathless.
“You’re… back , back?” I cut in. “Like… all of you?”
I hadn’t said his name - but I didn’t have to. Her expression shifted immediately, her features softening, head tilting like she was hearing something only she could sense.
“No, not all of us,” she said gently, returning with a hairbrush and a barrette in hand. “Jasper and Carlisle are hunting, and Esme’s setting up the house.”
She began brushing my hair with deft, careful strokes, her fingers smoothing it into a half-up twist before securing it with the clip. “Rosalie wasn’t ready to leave New York,” she added, “so Emmett stayed behind with her.”
“And-” I swallowed hard. “And Edward?”
She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she reached out and straightened a photograph on top of my dresser, her touch almost too delicate, too precise.
“Edward hasn’t been in contact in a couple months,” she said at last.
The drive out to the Cullen house was mostly silent.
Alice had brushed off Charlie’s questions with deft practice before hustling me into the passenger seat of her canary-yellow Porsche. Her smile didn’t falter, but I could feel the tension in her grip on the wheel - too firm for someone who never needed to concentrate while driving.
Outside, the trees blurred into long green strokes. It was raining again.
By the time the house came into view, I could feel the unease buzzing just under my skin, rising like static in my throat.
Esme met us at the front door, sweeping me into a delicate hug before stepping back to look me over, her cool hands cupping either side of my face. She frowned maternally at the sight of my bruised legs, but didn’t comment.
“Bella. We missed you so much.”
Alice guided me to the couch and sat beside me, while Esme flitted about the room, pulling sheets from the furniture, dusting away invisible grime.
They told me about the time they’d spent in New York - Carlisle’s practice in the city, Alice’s time studying at FIT, Esme’s carefully curated penthouse.
I drank it in like a junkie, high on their presence alone.
I faltered when it came time to talk about what I’d been doing in our time apart.
What was even safe to share?
The search party dragging me out of the woods after Edward left me? The months I spent in a catatonic haze? Therapy?
Telling them about Jacob felt out of the question.
So I kept it simple - vague, even.
“I’ve been spending a lot of time with my friends on the Quileute Rez, and other than that, just… school, really.”
They looked like they might press for more, but both turned toward the door at the same time - reacting to Carlisle and Jasper’s arrival long before the door opened.
The two of them entered laughing, perfectly unruffled. And of course, entirely unsurprised to see me.
Carlisle crossed the room in an instant, taking both my hands in his.
“Bella. We missed you so much,” he said - an exact echo of Esme.
Jasper smiled, warm and careful, but kept his distance. I didn’t take it personally. Not after how our last encounter ended. Unsurprisingly, any lingering anxieties I felt were quelled immediately as he stepped fully into the room.
“I see we weren’t as quick as we’d hoped,” Carlisle said, voice tinged with sadness as he took in the sight of my bruised legs, his hand patting my own absently.
I cursed the skirt, wishing my sweater would somehow stretch to cover more of my skin as four pairs of too-astute eyes swept over me.
“Her arm is bandaged, too. Some abrasions on the back and scalp.” Alice offered immediately. I gave her a sharp look, feeling a little betrayed.
Carlisle’s brow furrowed faintly, concern tempered with restraint. “Head trauma?”
“Just a bump,” I muttered.
He looked to Alice again, already weighing more than she’d said aloud.
“I was treated,” I added quickly. “Sue Clearwater looked me over last night.”
He nodded, recognition softening his expression.
“I remember her. She’s a very competent nurse. Still…” His eyes returned to mine, apologetic but unwavering. “I’d feel better seeing for myself, if you’ll allow it.”
There was no edge in his voice, no overt push - but somehow, refusing didn’t feel like an option. Not when he was looking at me with such practiced compassion. Not when he’d already stepped into the role of caretaker with such ease.
I resisted the urge to sigh, and nodded my acquiescence.
He started with my head - gentle, practiced fingers cool against my scalp.
“You have a few sizable lumps, a bit of scabbing, nothing terrible,” he murmured. He tilted my chin up to catch the window light in my eyes. “I assume Sue walked you through the possibility of concussion?”
“Yes. Ja-” I caught myself. “I was checked on through the night.”
Alice was already pulling my sweater over my head before I could stop her - undressing me again, without asking.
I didn’t bother protesting. I doubted I could’ve wriggled out of it on my own, not with my arm the way it was.
Carlisle unwrapped the bandages carefully, murmuring an apology when I flinched at the tug of dried fibers. His hands, cool and unhurried, pressed gently around the wound.
“No signs of infection, that’s good. This really should have been stitched though. Esme, can you- ah, yes. Thank you.”
Esme was already at his side with a black medical bag, returned from wherever she'd gone before I’d even realized she’d left.
“Lean forward, please, Bella.”
I did as instructed, wincing as cool air hit my back and my blouse was lifted.
My spine ached with the stretch.
“Quite significant bruising,” Carlisle muttered, almost to himself.
“That’s where she hit the rock,” Alice supplied, now standing in the doorway with Jasper.
“Any issues moving your extremities? Any tingling in your fingers or toes?”
I shook my head.
“No, just muscle aches.”
“That’s to be expected.” He nodded, drawing a stethoscope from the bag.
The cold circle pressed against my chest, no warmer than his fingers. I focused on the rise and fall of my breath at his direction - in , out - aware of Jasper’s eyes meeting mine across the room.
I felt a flicker of resentment at the borrowed calm, a brief flash of something sharp and mine - before it dulled again, swallowed whole by Jasper’s gift.
They didn’t mean anything by it, only concerned with my wellbeing. Still, I wondered if they had always steered me like this. If I had just never noticed enough to be bothered before.
I glanced toward the others, still stationed like statues. Jasper’s eyes were on the far wall - polite. Alice, less so. Her arms were crossed now, her weight shifted subtly to one foot like she might be called to action at any moment. Esme, bless her, gave me a faint, reassuring smile. The kind reserved for nervous children and startled deer.
“Alright,” Carlisle sighed as he straightened. “I think you’ll live.” He smiled at his own little joke, and I returned it automatically.
“I can stitch up that arm here, if you’d like.”
Again, it was phrased like a question, but he was already pulling a needle from his bag, laying out equipment on the coffee table.
I extended my arm without thinking. But just before he could reach for it, I pulled it back.
“Actually… I think it’s healing okay,” I said, tugging my sleeve gently down again. “I’d rather leave it for now.”
Carlisle paused, then smiled - soft, unfazed. “Of course.”
His expression stayed mild, but I felt the shift anyway - a faint ripple of surprise through the room.
I wondered when the last time was that I said no to any of them.
“If it gets worse, let me know.”
I nodded. Esme gathered the supplies while he re-wrapped my arm.
I managed to slip away from their prying eyes to use the bathroom - my bid for human minutes not unfamiliar to them.
They must have noticed when I went upstairs instead of using the bathroom on the first floor. But, of course, they were far too polite to say anything.
Everything was exactly as I remembered it: a fresh roll of toilet paper on the holder, untouched white towels, a brand-new bar of soap. Everything unchanged. I couldn’t help but wonder if the Bella looking back at me in the mirror was, somehow, unchanged too.
I knew better than to wander. It was rude of me, improper.
I did it anyway.
I peeked into Carlisle’s office - curtains still drawn, desk still covered in a sheet. Not a speck of dust on the immaculately stocked bookshelves. The Carlisle in the portrait on the wall stared back at me - disapproving. I shut the door as quietly as I could before I left - though they undoubtedly heard it regardless.
I crept up the stairs to the third floor on light feet, sneaking like a thief.
But all I was stealing here were glances. Glimpses of the house I had once hoped to call my home. The family I had nearly had.
The door to Edward’s room was closed like all the others.
It was just wood - just pressed particle board painted white.
And yet it felt like the portal to another world. One I wasn’t sure I was ready to return to.
The handle turned easily in my hand.
Light poured in, staggeringly bright through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
The CDs sat untouched in their stand, the black leather chaise angled toward me like it had been waiting.
There was a time when this little room had been one of the most magical places in the world - the sanctum of a god, dressed in the trappings of an angel.
There was a time when I’d dreamed of losing my virginity here - imagined, with a guilty little thrill, how that plush white rug would feel against my bare back.
It used to feel like the centre of my universe.
It all seemed so empty now.
Not because its owner was gone - no. I could picture him perfectly: standing at the stereo, sparkling in the sunlight, smirking faintly as he pressed play on Chopin.
It felt empty in the way a staged house feels empty.
Absent of life, absent of reality.
I didn’t step inside. I closed the door gently, fingers trembling on the knob.
“Would you prefer the spare room?”
Alice’s voice came softly from behind me, like she’d been standing there all along. I jumped, startled by her sudden appearance - her expression was soft. Sympathetic.
“What?” I asked, once I found my voice again.
“Well,” she said carefully, “if you don’t want to sleep in Edw- in there. We could set up one of the guest rooms, if you’d prefer.”
I shook my head, confused.
“Alice, I’m not… I’m not staying here. I live with Charlie. I’m staying with Charlie. ”
It bothered me, the way she said it - like it had already been decided.
“Bella,” Alice said gently, “it would be safer for you here. We could look after you.”
“Safer for me , maybe. But not for my dad.”
I felt like I was arguing with a foregone conclusion. “Besides - I am being looked after. The wolves take care of me.”
Alice’s lips thinned.
“Come back downstairs,” she said. “We can talk about it all together.”
They were all waiting for us in the living room. Not speaking - perched unnaturally, like statues, on the edges of couches and chairs.
Alice guided me to a seat again, her hands gentle but insistent on my shoulders.
“So,” Carlisle started, when Alice had settled herself on the arm of Jasper’s chair. “Tell us about what happened. How long has Victoria been back?”
“Hang on,” I said, not ready to let the subject slide. “I’m not staying here.”
My voice was firm. I wasn’t budging.
“It’s nice of you - really, it is - but I’m staying at my house.”
Carlisle blinked, a flicker of surprise passing over his face as he glanced at Esme.
“Well, of course you don’t have to stay here, Bella,” Esme said quickly, her voice warm, smoothing. Her hand rested lightly on Carlisle’s knee. “It was just an idea. But if you’d rather be at home, I don’t blame you.”
“Okay,” I said, letting myself sink a little deeper into the seat, smoothing my hands over my bare legs. “Okay. Well, I guess it’s been a couple months.”
How long had it been? Two months at most, though it felt like longer.
“It was Laurent, first. He attacked me near La Push beach. The pack took care of him, but he said Victoria was looking for me.”
“‘ The Pack ’?” Jasper cut in. “The shapeshifters?”
“Yeah, I guess,” I said. “The Quileute pack. The wolves.”
Surely Alice had seen them in her vision. I wondered why she’d left them out.
Jasper nodded, motioning for me to continue.
“She started showing up not long after that. The wolves have been keeping her out - they’ve been on patrol non-stop. They chased her up to Canada for a few days, but she’s back. Obviously.” I gestured to my bruised legs.
“She’s been turning people too. Men, mostly.”
“How many?” Carlisle this time, cutting in gently but firmly.
I took a steadying breath.
“Eleven, I think. We’re not sure exactly. The pack have taken care of some of them. You’d have to ask them exactly how many.”
There was a beat of silence.
Esme’s hand tightened on Carlisle’s knee. Her lips parted like she might speak, but no words came.
Carlisle’s expression didn’t change much, but something shifted behind his eyes. Grief, I thought. Or maybe guilt. I knew both well.
Alice, on the other hand, looked almost… angry . She was worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, arms crossed tight across her chest.
“Why haven’t I seen any of this?” she snapped, her voice sharp, the question aimed at Carlisle.
He didn’t seem to have an answer.
“You haven’t?” I asked. “But… you saw- I mean, you saw what happened yesterday, right?”
“Yes. It was the first I’d seen of you in months. I mean, I’ve been trying to keep an eye on you since we left, and at first it was fine. But then… just nothing. Nothing until two days ago. I thought-” she broke off, shaking her head. “I thought maybe I was losing it.”
“So, yesterday,” Jasper said, rubbing a hand soothingly along Alice’s back. “What happened? She got through the lines?”
“Not exactly.” I hesitated, sheepish now that I had to explain the plan out loud. “The wolves are doing great, don’t get me wrong. But it’s taking a toll on them. I mean, most of them are just kids - younger than me. And we just can’t figure out what she’s doing. I thought… well, I thought you all were our best bet. And there was only one way I knew to get through to you.”
I looked at Alice as I said it. In my peripheral vision, Carlisle and Esme shifted - subtle, uncomfortable.
“So,” I went on, since no one else did. “I went out into the woods on my own, near where Laurent attacked me. The wolves stayed back so she wouldn’t catch their scent.”
“They used you as bait?” Alice’s voice cracked like a whip - accusatory, sharp.
“It was my idea,” I said quickly. “They weren’t thrilled about it. But it worked.”
“And the pack saved you?” Carlisle asked, confirming. I nodded.
“And you didn’t see it?” he added, turning to Alice now. She looked taken aback.
“No.” Her arms folded tight across her chest again. “I saw Bella attacked, and then everything just… went black. I thought she was dead.”
“I did pass out, just as they arrived,” I offered.
Alice scoffed, low and bitter.
“If that was it, I would’ve seen you pass out . Not just - nothing .” She raised her hands on the last word, frustration flashing in an exaggerated shrug.
“Bella,” Carlisle cut in, lifting a calming hand. “How long have you been spending time with the Quileute pack?”
“Since Laurent,” I said, thinking. “Maybe a bit earlier. March? April?”
“And is that when you lost sight of her, Alice?”
“Close to,” she admitted. “You think I can’t see past the shapeshifters, Carlisle?”
“It’s a possibility,” he said with a shrug.
Carlisle leaned forward, resting his elbows lightly on his knees. “And the pack? They’re open to cooperation?”
I nodded. “They’re wary. But they want Victoria gone. They’re willing to work with anyone who can help stop her.”
Jasper, mostly silent until now, gave a small, thoughtful nod. “They’re soldiers. Young, maybe. But disciplined. Territorial, but not unreasonable.”
“They’re kids,” Alice muttered under her breath. But she didn’t argue further.
Carlisle sat back, thoughtful. “Then we’ll need to meet with them. Carefully. Respectfully. We’ll let you be the bridge, Bella.”
I didn’t love the sound of that - but I just nodded.
The silence that followed wasn’t exactly comfortable, but it wasn’t hostile either. More like a shaky ceasefire. I stood, brushing my hands against my skirt. “I should head home.”
“I’ll drive you,” Alice said immediately, rising with me.
The drive home was quiet as well.
The falling twilight blurring the trees into grey-green ghosts.
I could feel Alice glancing at me every so often, like I might vanish if she blinked too long.
She pulled up in front of the house and killed the engine.
I reached for the door handle, but her voice stopped me. “I’ll get my bag.”
I turned, brows lifting. “Your…?”
“I’m staying,” she said, already opening her door. “You’re not safe alone.”
“I am ,” I argued. “I’ve been-”
But she was already around the car, popping the trunk.
I sighed, climbing out after her. There was no winning this.
Charlie greeted us at the door, smiling when he saw Alice with an overnight bag. He’d always liked her.
The bag was for his benefit, of course - Alice didn’t really need it.
“Sleepover?” He asked.
“Yeah,” I tried not to let my frustration bleed into my voice. “Why don’t you go ahead, Alice. I’ll meet you upstairs”
She eyed me suspiciously, but went without argument.
“Night, Charlie!” She called brightly over her shoulder as she left.
My father waited until Alice had cleared the landing before speaking.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” I sighed, toeing off my shoes. “I just need to call Jacob. We, um… had plans tomorrow. I need to tell him I can’t make it.”
Jacob and Billy didn’t pick up, so I left a voicemail on the machine.
“Hey, Jake. It’s me.”
Duh .
“Alice is staying the night, so… I guess there’s no need for any of you guys to be here.” I felt stupid, awkward. Too much left unsaid in the spaces between my words. “I’d like to talk, when you can. So just… Can you just give me a call when you get a chance? Okay. Bye.”
I lingered at the phone after I’d hung up. Willing it to ring.
Upstairs, Alice was already curled primly on the edge of the bed - legs crossed, hands folded in her lap like she’d never once known chaos.
She glanced up as I entered, then looked away, pretending not to be listening to every breath I took.
I got ready for bed in silence, suddenly very aware of every little motion - how loud my toothbrush sounded, how long it took me to fold yesterday’s clothes over the back of the chair. When I finally climbed under the covers, Alice remained exactly where she was.
“Are you… going to sit there all night?” I asked, half-joking, half-pleading.
She smiled faintly, almost sheepish. “Just until you’re asleep.”
I rolled my eyes at the ceiling. “You realize you’re acting like a well-meaning vampire hall monitor, right?”
Her smile widened just slightly. “I am a well-meaning vampire hall monitor.”
There wasn’t much else to say. I turned over, curling toward the wall. The room was quiet, but not empty. I could feel her stillness like a weight on the air.
It took a long time to fall asleep.