Chapter Text
Chapter 1.
Bella couldn't remember much from the night she was found in the woods, other than the warmth that found her at the end of it. It was haunting her how much she thought of it, over all things – over him. She still couldn't bring herself to say his name to herself, in her thoughts, much less to her father and mother. Not when they asked her prodding questions about what exactly happened, if she knew they were leaving, if he had just left her in the middle of the forest like that. The only thing she had managed to answer was how she felt much later that night.
"It was warm," Bella murmured, covered by a foil blanket. "What was it?"
"Oh, honey," Charlie lamented. "You were freezing, it was probably Sam's body heat from when he carried you. You'll warm up again."
But Bella didn't, not mentally and not physically. The warmth that enveloped her just before being found didn't come back, no matter what she did or who she didn't think about. It was like chasing a high that would never come back. She would try, though. Three or four blankets over her body for days, as she sat in her bed, in her room, doing nothing.
At some point over the first couple of days, Reneé had come visit. She wouldn't try to remove the blankets, but she would pull out Bella's hands out from underneath them and hold them between hers, talking and talking. Most of the time it was about how sunny and lovely Jacksonville was. The house that they found – bright and beach-facing – and how close it was to a high school that would take Bella mid-year. Bella would grimace and retrieve her hands, sliding them back under the blankets. She didn't want to live in Jacksonville.
"Just think about it, Bella," Reneé would softly say after a long pause, before leaving the room.
This routine extended for a couple of weeks – Charlie and Reneé hovering, Bella under the blankets. Charlie didn't say much, unlike Reneé. He would sit at the edge of her bed and pat her head. Bella figured he was as good at comfort as she was and appreciated the honest attempt at becoming a loving father, but not even that could melt her apathy and anxiety away. After those weeks in the blankets, she was staring to figure out that nothing would warm her core back again. Defeated, she crawled from underneath the blankets and came down the stairs.
"Bells," Charlie said from the kitchen table as he saw her come in, as if she had been dead all along and had just come back to life.
Reneé jumped from her seat and guided her to a chair in the kitchen. Bella felt groggy and weak, but the overreaction from her parents made her want to react in a livelier manner. They pushed some juice her way and Charlie stood up to heat up some food. Bella found the scene odd but couldn't bring herself to say anything to her worrying parents. She quietly sipped the juice and waited for the food to be brought to her.
"Here," Charlie placed a plate of eggs and toast in front of her. "Have at it."
Bella reluctantly moved the eggs around before looking back at her expectant parents. Out of guilt, she loaded her fork and put in a couple of bites in her mouth before looking at them again. They seemed eager to watch her eat, but Reneé was the first one to notice Bella was also waiting for something.
"Bella," she said sweetly, like she always did. "Sweetie… your dad and I have been talking, and we think, I mean, we were thinking… would it be too bad to move to Jacksonville? You would love it there. The sun, a new school..."
"No," Bella said sharply. "I won't go."
Whatever delicate balance was being kept, shattered. The eggs were pushed aside.
"I want to stay here," Bella pleaded, looking at Charlie. Her father frowned, conflicted. "You can't do this."
"Bells…" Charlie sighed. "You got lost in the forest," his tone was pained, and that made Bella look for her mother's eyes instead, but she found another wall of concern in hers.
"We think some distance will do you good," Reneé cleared up. "Charlie will come visit more often, too."
"No," Bella said again, loudly. "I won't go!"
"Sweetie…"
"I would rather die," Bella cried.
Her parents gasped and she realized what she had said. It was too late to take it back. Reneé's eyes welled up with tears and, for the first time in almost two decades, Bella saw her father lovingly hold her as she cried. She regretted having come down.
"We can talk about it later," Charlie said, still holding Reneé between his arms. "Finish your food, okay?"
Bella nodded, defeated.
How she convinced Reneé to let her stay was a blur. There were lots of apologizing, explanations, and tantrums in between. Charlie argued and argued, but eventually it all fell on deaf ears. Reneé packed up and left after almost three weeks in Forks, for which Bella gave her props, as she knew her mother found the place even more unbearable than Bella ever did. All she had to do was promise to call more often and not let her grades slip.
"College is soon," Reneé whispered when she was hugging Bella goodbye. "There's plenty of them to choose from, don't let grades get in your way."
Bella nodded, although it didn't matter anymore. "Will do."
She had gone back to school already, two weeks after the incident. She still cocooned under her blankets at home, but at least for class she took the time to take notes and do homework. She also went to work at Newton's, like always. The only difference is that she wasn't in the mood to talk about anything. Her already shy personality turned into that of a ghost. It was more interesting to talk to a wall than to try and strike a conversation with her. Not like people kept trying. Everyone sort of hung around, but no one really asked or said anything of substance. At least, not until that afternoon.
Bella was arranging propane cans at Newton's, almost two weeks after Reneé returned to Jacksonville. She hadn't called like she said she would, but her mother didn't bother her too much about it. Charlie still hovered. Mike didn't converse much at work, so it was all good. Good as it could be now, at least. The entrance door chime rang, and for the first time in weeks, Bella felt compelled to look back at the door. It was a compulsion, almost. A curiosity that hadn't struck her in weeks.
At the door, a tall figure looked straight at her. It was most definitively a man from the Quileute reservation. He was tall and buff, maybe in his twenties, and had a bad case of at-home-haircut. Lightly dressed for what was the coldest fall day yet. His eyes were dark and sharp, but clear in a way. Bella felt her ears get hot when she noticed they both stared at each other for a good chunk of time.
"May I help you?" Bella's voice came out thin.
"No, I mean yeah," the man's voice was raspy. "I was hoping to… get some propane… for my portable stove."
"Oh," Bella mumbled. "Well, this one just came in… and there's another brand in the back of the store."
"Care to recommend one?"
"I'm… I'm not good with this stuff," Bella admitted. "You're better off asking Mike, I can call him."
"No need, I will just grab one from you," the man quickly answered.
Bella nodded and moved aside. The man stepped in front of her and grabbed the canister she was holding. When their fingers brushed, Bella felt a warm wave wash over her; the warmth she had missed for weeks now. It was momentary, but she felt it. She leaned in, before she realized what she was doing and quickly leaned back. The sudden shift made her lose her footing and that warranted the man reaching out to grab her by her arm. His skin was hot against hers and his touch was firm but gentle
"Sorry," Bella said, regaining her balance, as the man let go of her. She felt herself getting disappointed as the warmth where his hand was placed dissipated.
"No problem," the man replied, concern showing in his eyes.
"If that's all, I can check you out," she offered, trying to stir herself away from the situation, afraid of her own out-of-character reactions.
She walked the man to the counter and tried to focus on anything that was not him. She itched to glance at him once more, but she refrained from doing so, scared to find the pools of black staring back at her as intently as that first time.
"It's five bucks."
The man handed her the money and for a third time, his hot skin brushing against hers made her feel like the uncrushable cold within her was gone. She frowned to herself, feeling conflicted.
"You're… you're Bella Swan, right?" the man asked as she put the money in the register.
Her brown eyes locked with his and her hands trembled. "Do I know you?"
"Well… no, no," the man said nervously. "I mean, I don't think you remember me, but my name is Paul… I was with the La Push guys that went to look for you a few weeks ago."
"Oh," Bella said nervously. "I- I mean… thank you."
"No, don't thank me," Paul quickly said. "I was just asking. After, you know, I was just worried. I wanted to see if you were okay."
"Well, I am here, aren't I?" Bella said with defeat.
Paul simply stared at her with an unreadable look. "I mean it," he replied quietly.
Bella didn't know why, but she felt compelled to appease him, truly hoping he could feel at ease that she was… a semblance of okay.
"I… There's so much that's happened," Bella mumbled. "I guess I'm still not over everything, but I'm doing what I can to… to stay here."
She meant that last thing more literally than figuratively, but it seemed to do the trick.
"Well, if you need someone to talk to…" Paul leaned into the counter, and Bella was startled, but she quickly realized he was reaching for a pen. "You can call me here," he scribbled his name and number over receipt paper. "I go to the Tribal School, but I can make it to Forks quicker than you'd think."
"Oh, you don't have t-,"
"I want to," Paul reassured her. "You could also come hang, I swear we don't bite."
Before Bella could refuse the number, Paul half-smiled at her and quickly made his way out. Bella was so startled by the soft smile that she didn't notice that Mike Newton had approached the counter behind her.
"Who was that?" he asked, almost protectively. "Do you know him?"
"Something like that," the brunette quickly murmured. "He's from the guys of that reservation that…." Bella let the statement trail off, knowing Mike would know what she was talking about.
"Well… he looks too old to hand you his number, doesn't he?" Mike was about to reach for the paper when Bella's pale hand stopped him.
"He goes to the rez school, so he's our age… I think," Bella said. "I think he's just being nice." She quickly grabbed the paper and put it in her pocket.
"… yeah, sure," Mike said skeptically and almost disappointed, as he stepped away.
After, Bella stared at the piece of paper for a long time – unsure about calling, just as she was unsure about why she wanted to anyway.