"O Achilles, you were never made a god, but you were remembered. You were remembered." - voidkraken (tumblr)

Fire rips through her veins, setting her teeth on edge, each hair on her arms standing at attention. He dances in front of her, quick on his feet, despite his height. He's smirking, wild and uncharted, unchecked.

And Bella plans to check him.

He steps forward first, right foot in front of his left, he's a southpaw. He strikes. Once, twice. But Bella's already calculated these moves, eyes darting quickly between his hands, feet, where his eyes look. Jacob's always been predictable. She's quick to rock out of the way, quick to slide her fist towards his rib cage. There's a crack when she makes contact, a quiet hiss falls between his teeth as he takes a knee.

She dances back, lets him catch his breath. Her own chest heaves in four-four timing. Jacob stands, fist rising back to guard his face. He nods at her, hair coming undone from his hair tie.

"Let's go!"

So she goes.

One, two, three. A deadly dance that she's well versed in. Fakes a stab to his right, another to his left. He goes to block both of them, and he's not fast enough to get his gloves to his face before Bella lands a hook on the edge of his jaw bone. Even through the glove, her hand aches. Jacob's head snaps back, head gear flying off, rolling, rolling on the ground.

Behind her, a whistle blows. "That's time!"

Sighing, Bella unclasps her gloves, removing her headgear, rubbing at the imprints left on her cheeks, and walks to where Jacob sits on the floor of the ring, starry eyed and dazed.

"Hey," She bends down, takes his hand. "You doing okay?"

He doesn't say anything for a long moment, and Bella's worried she's given him a concussion. Then, "That was a sick right hook, Bells."

She grins, a quick flash of teeth against the flesh of her lip, hot and wild and when she says "Wasn't it?" She hopes it comes out cocky sounding, and when he groans, she knows that it did. He grasps her hand tighter, and she works to pull him up, mouth curling in mild disgust towards the sweat rolling off his back. "You gonna make it, bud?"

Jacob laughs, brown eyes dark and sparkling and filled with the same excitement that burns through her core, the same excitement that calls her to this sport, makes her come back each and every time. It's addicting, for sure - a dangerous drug that's killed so, so many before, one that's made its players believe they were destined go down in history. "Yeah, I feel fine."

Bella looks up, her father is standing behind the ropes, Billy Black at his side and he's laughing. "That sure was a beating."

"Ease up, dad." Jake sighs, head lolling to the side, a red tint to his cheeks. "She's an Olympian." He continues, by way of explanation.

Smiles, again, shakes her head. "You fought well." And this is true, he had. He's quick on his feet, knew to react to her shifting in weight. A skill it took most boxers years and years to learn to do. "Maybe, when you're feeling better, we can spar again?"

Jake is quick to smile back at her, teeth blunt and white and Bella is reminded just how young Jacob really is. "For sure." He rubs the back of his neck, looking sheepish when he asks her, "Thanks for letting me, and all."

"Thank you for being my partner today." Bella soothes, softly, catalogs the vibrant blush that rushes up his neck, the tips of his ears. He nods, fiddling with the velcro of his gloves. Her dad looks towards Jake's flushed cheeks, turns her way, raises his eyebrows and crinkles his nose, careful to be out of view of the young boy, not wanting to embarrass him any more. Bella stops herself from giggling by biting the inside of her lip, and she's quick to gather her bag, nodding when Charlie asks if she's riding home with him.

"Looks like somebody has a crush." Charlie grins, pointing his thumb behind his shoulder and towards the studio, taking Bella's bag off her shoulder, carrying it for her.

"Dad," Bella rolls her eyes. "Give him a break. He's right, he fought an Olympian today and didn't do half bad. That's exciting, don't you think? Imagine getting to tell your friends that, disregarding the fact that he's talking about me." She waits a second. "I would be excited."

"Sometimes," Charlie sighs, "I'm not sure if you're humble or just so cocky that my brain blanks whenever you praise yourself."

"Probably a bit of both."

Another sigh. But he smiles through it.

Greens and browns pass by in blurs, and Bella remembers harsh reds and browns passing by, how hot the desert had been the day she left.

"I love you, my glittering star." Renée grins, brushing some of Bella's hair behind her ears. "I want you to call me as soon as you land, okay?"

A camera flashes in her eyes, white light blinding. "Bella! Look here!" Comes a call from a man, diving between people, trying to get the best shot. "Over here, sweetheart! Give us that beautiful smile!" Another flash, and it takes all the will power in the world to keep a straight face, sneer threatening to break out. She settles for clenching her jaw, instead.

"Mom." Voice low and careful, aware of the phones recording. "How did reporters know about me leaving?" When her mother doesn't answer, it's all Bella needs to know.

"Tell me you didn't." Bella pleads, still, desperation leaking out, watching the cold shift in Renée's eyes. "Tell me you didn't call them and let them know."

"Okay, easy. I didn't." Her mother's voice is cold and cruel, and it promises nothing but lies. At Bella's glower, she shrugs. "You told me to tell you I didn't, not tell you the truth."

"God, are you kidding me? I couldn't have one day to myself, to say goodbye to my family and friends, without you trying to gain publicity out of it?"

"Keep your voice down Isabella, and smile." Renée's own smile locks in place, hands coming to grip her shoulders just a little too hard to be comforting. "The world is watching."

Bella mustered a small smile, removing herself from her mother's grip, grabbing her backpack to board. "I'll text you when I land." A camera flashes, once, twice, three times before she's able to get on the plane.

Charlie had been ecstatic, of course, when she'd called and asked if she could move there with him, at least for the school year. He'd unequivocally said yes with such excitement she could feel it through the phone. It had been after her match. The big one. The one that would decide whether or not she would take a gold medal home with her. And she did, large and gold and it burned her when they placed it around her neck, leaving an imprint for all to see.

"Destined for the stars." People whispered about her after that. "Destined for the gods."

Her mother threw a party a day after, loud and large and filled to the brim with booze and drugs she wasn't allowed to have, wasn't interested in having. When she could, she slipped out, leaving to her room.

Victory had taken a lot out of her, a lot more than she realized it would. Thumbing the fresh plastic covering her new tattoo, five rings on the side of her ribcage - the markings of an Olympian - she called her dad, knew it was twelve in the morning there, knew he had to get up for work in a few hours. But she called, and when he answered, voice soft and gruff, she burst into tears.

"God, dad." She whispered into the dark, face wet and red. "I've wasted… so much. My entire life, I've wasted for what? For a gold medal?" She hiccuped. "For the right to get a tattoo that every other Olympic athlete has? For what? For what?"

"Bells," she can tell he was frowning through the phone. "You love boxing, you have your entire life." A pause. "Maybe you need to take a break."

"A break." She echoed, eyes watching the TV. On the screen was her, sweating but hot and vibrant with the taste of victory. She recalled how hard it had been for her to smile after the fact, after her final blow, it shook the entire ring when her opponent slammed against the ground. The applause had been thunderous."And, you'd let me? Come to Forks, I mean."

"God, yes, Bella. You don't even have to ask."

So she didn't.

Renée had laughed out loud when Bella told her she was planning to move to Forks for her senior year, laughed louder when Bella told her she already bought the plane tickets to do so.

"Don't be ridiculous." Her mother chuckled again, wiping the tears from her eyes. "You have so much scheduled over the next few months. Everybody wants to fight an Olympic athlete."

"Oh, I'm being completely serious, mom." Bella stood taller, easily a whole head taller that Renée. "I'm going to Forks. I need a break."

"A break?" Renée's eyes opened wider, scandalized. "My diamond girl, you don't get to take a break. You're at the height of your career. If anything, we should be talking about the next summer Olympics."

"You're delusional."

"I have made you a god, Isabella." The cold facade that had usually taken up her mother's face finally broke, shatters into an unforgiving frown. Her mother is nowhere to be seen under this visage. "You are on every news outlet front page, you are all anybody is talking about. I have done that for you and you do not get to throw in that towel early just because you're a little tired."

"I never asked to be put on that pedestal!" Bella's collected voice broke, too, she's gesturing wildly with her hands when she spoke next. "I have given up everything to be your star. I have forfeited relationships with my friends, I have skipped school for matches, I have spent years of my life for training, for blood and tears, and all it's ever gotten me is attention I don't want and a mother that I don't recognize anymore!" Her words were bullets, and they hit their mark, busting through flesh, blood splattering against the walls. Renée held her hand over her chest, eyes staring hard and disbelieving at Bella. She had flinched under her mother's gaze, opening her mouth to apologize, closes it when she realizes she's not actually sorry.

They stood in silence for a few minutes, Bella's hard breathing the only sound in the room.

"You ungrateful, spoiled girl." When Bella didn't dignify that with a response, she continues. "Maybe it is a good idea for you to go. Obviously all this fame and glory has made you crazy."

One of the compromises had been one last interview, to show the public she didn't plan to quit boxing, her mother said, with a quick roll of her eyes, a grim, dangerous set to her mouth.

"I heard you're moving."

"Ah, I just figured that it's my senior year, I should focus on that, you know?"

"Of course." The interviewer, paused, flipping a page over. "When we talked to you last, you were a world class champion about the enter the games. Now you're an Olympic athlete and you have quite the following! How did it feel to win?"

Bella's smile freezes in place, a skill she's learned from Renée. "Like all my hard work has finally paid off. It's an honor," she continues, "to hold this title. I'm excited for future matches and for the potential to enter the games again." Well rehearsed lines she's spoken to herself in the mirror the night before. The world would be watching, and they would clock any shift in her grin the moment it happened. Renée would never forgive her for that.

"You're being hailed a modern day Achilles, a god, even. How do you feel about that?"

Bella had laughed and laughed and laughed.

Charlie shakes her, pulling her back down to earth with him. They're parked in the driveway, and he's smiling at her confused glance. "You doze off?"

"No," Bella shakes her head. "I guess I just zoned out." That was the nice thing about living with Charlie and about living in Forks. So much room to think, so much room to be able to drop pretenses, at least for a little while.

Inside the house is barren, something that surprises her each time she enters. It hadn't looked like this in her childhood, it has always been bright colors and pictures hanging from the halls and Charlie's guitar used to be in the corner, and for years and years and years they had kept up pictures that Bella scribbled from Kindergarten up on the fridge. Now, no pictures adorn the walls. Now, the guitar had been put up and away and the stainless steel of the fridge glistens by itself. This is the effect Renée has on people. Loves and loves them so much that when she leaves, she leaves behind a hallow corpse of somebody that used to know how to love, used to know to smile.

That's what happened with Charlie. He had loved, loved Renée so much that when she packed up in the middle of the night, had taken Bella by the hand, sleepy eyed and still in pajamas, Charlie never saw it coming. For months, years, the bottom of the bottle had been his companion. It got better, at least, when Bella started to fight. His little girl a title holding champion. When she came to visit for some summers, Billy always teased her dad, complained about how instead of football games, Bella's matches always took control of the TV. She had even heard rumors from his partner at the police department that Charlie had also changed the channels to her fights anytime that it happened during the day. And if they got called away, Charlie made sure to record them.

"Oh, god." Bella yawns, eyeing the clock on the face of the microwave. "I'm going to be late - I need to go shower, like, now."

"Late?" Charlie's eyebrows furrow in confusion. "For what? For school?" At her equally as confused silence, he continues. "Even after your training this morning?"

"Yeah?"

"Does Renée really make you go? Even after that?"

"Oh, for sure." Bella nods, stilling, taking in his hopeful expression.

"I just," He pauses, takes a deep breath in and then, "Well, never mind."

"What, dad?"

"I just figured that we were going to hang out today. I took the day off."

Oh. "Dad." Bella gnaws on her lip. "Mom would kill you if she found out you started to let me skip school each time I had practice."

Charlie seems to take some time to consider this, moving around the kitchen in search for breakfast. He comes out victorious with a cartoon of eggs and a bag of cheese in his hand. "Yeah, you're right." He chuckles then, too, starting up the stove. "Okay, go shower. We still have this weekend."

Angela is waiting for her in her car when Bella pulls in, smile small and soft, a pleasant greeting.

"Hey, Angela." Bella grins, shrugging her bag over her shoulders. "How's your morning been?"

"Awful. I almost didn't get out of bed today."

"Didn't sleep well last night?" Frowning, Bella walks with her towards the front doors of the school. It wasn't uncommon for Angela to not sleep at all - hours and hours of homework plagued her dreams and in the end she often got too stressed out to get some real sleep.

Angela shrugs, then her smile turns teasing. "Saw that you were at the boxing studio this morning."

"Saw..?"

Angela pulls out her phone, and on the front of Forks Daily News's mobile site is herself, smirking wicked and wild, fists flying towards Jacob. The title under the image read as "Boxing champion Isabella Swan's early morning routine with new sparring partner."

"God," Bella yanks the phone from her hands, stopping in her tracks. "How? This was posted an hour ago." An indignant pause. "I was there an hour ago!"

"Who's that guy you're sparring with? A new lover?" Angela's voice drops, and Bella whips around to look at her, finds a blush on her cheeks.

"Gross, Angela."

"Gross? Look at those muscles."

Bella groans, fingers pinching the bridge of her nose. When will she ever catch a break? It seems like the answer is never. "He's young." Is this a thing normal teenaged girls do? Drool over any guy that has an inkling of a six pack?

"How young is young?"

"Like, fifteen."

"What?" Angela pulls her phone closer to her face, zooming in on the picture, and Bella resumes walking. "There's no way. He's gotta at least be over six-four."

"He's six-five." Bella nods, holding the door open for her. "But he's also fifteen."

"That's so… sad." Angela pouts, throwing her phone into her purse. "I can't ever escape these white boys at this school, it seems." A melodramatic hand on her forehead, and Bella laughs and laughs.

Bella, true to her word, had been late. It worked out today that Angela didn't have a first period, but Bella's first period had been government - a class she really needed to have. The halls are empty now, students already in their second period classes. Sighing, Bella waves a quick bye to Angela, promises to catch up with her at lunch.

Biology, so far, had proved to be challenging, to say the least. The course work hadn't been an issue, she learned a lot of the basics from her home school in Arizona. The biology teacher even made sure that he explained things clearly. No, it wasn't the course work, Bella thinks walking into the room, it was the people. Or, more specifically, it had been a single person.

He sits now, and Bella can see the way that his shoulders are taut, how his jaw sits clenched. His eyes are dark, too, looking very similar to her first day of school.

Edward had been sitting alone at a table, near the back, when she walked in, hands fumbling around with her new schedule. Almost instantly, his head snapped up, eyes darker than hell, an agonized snarl coming to his lips. In that instant, Bella had cataloged a few things, looking behind and around her to see if anybody else noticed. First, this boy, was undoubtedly glaring at her. His expression akin to pure and unadulterated hatred. That's fine, she thought, she's met people in the ring before who've hated her, have never met her before. So Bella does what she does best.

She smiled. And it's laced with knives and poison but she smiles all the same, and continues walking, setting her stuff down, ignoring how he slides his chair away, a sound coming from deep in his throat.

Secondly, as Bella sat down her stuff, she realized that probably this weirdo sitting next to her was probably the prettiest boy that's ever existed. And this is true, too. With wild, red hair, sharp jaw lines, and gently sculpted lips, easily he was the most attractive male Bella had ever laid eyes on.

"Hello!" She chirped, happy and loud, turning her entire body towards him, smile wide and uncontrolled. "I'm Bella. This is my first day."

The boy, covered his face with his hands and groaned.

"God, you're a little freaky, huh?" Bella continued, smile morphing into a smirk. This is what she did to her opponents in the ring, goading them to talk to her, dragging reaction out of them as if she were pulling teeth. It's considered unprofessional to not greet your opponent, after all, and Bella is nothing if she's not professional. "That's okay, people say I'm a little weird, too."

It had taken the better part of an hour, but eventually the dark eyed boy awkwardly turned towards her, had gritted through his teeth. "Edward."

She kept still, refused to let the shit-eating grin take over her face, even if it hurts her to not gloat. "Hm? Sorry, I can't hear you."

A bated breath and then his voice is much clearer, soft and smooth like velvet. "My name is Edward."

"Oh." She turned his way, unable to hold back her victorious grin. "I thought your name was freaky boy."

Now, she rolls her eyes and quickly walks towards her seat. "Morning, freaky boy. Are we going to go through this again?"

A grunt is her response, along with furrowed eyebrows. She's learned, over the past few months, that he really, really doesn't like that name.

"So, I still don't know what your issue with me is." She sighs, gathering some papers that were due the night before. "It's not like I stink - I literally took a shower an hour ago."

Edward is slow to remove his hands from his mouth, and he releases another breath before he opens his mouth to respond. Some days, it was like that with him, slow to respond. But Bella's learned patience through her sport, so she can learn patience through this activity of trying to talk to Edward everyday, as well. "You don't smell bad, Bella." He explains, eyes still an inky black, but he doesn't elaborate.

"Well, I know that."

A slight laugh picks up at his mouth, the sharp points of his canines flashing in the bright fluorescent lights. Slowly, the shade of his eyes lighten. It sounds weird, but Bella's come to expect the mood he's in by the color of his eyes - since freaky boy has two colors that he likes to rotate through. One is the black color she's most familiar with, the other is a golden ochre. She never sees this color, not upfront. But across the small room of the cafeteria, where him and his siblings all sit together, she does, she sees that they all share this color, too.

Bella doesn't have a good explanation for this - chalks it up to him using colored contacts, trying to express himself through something other than clothes, or heavy metal bands like she suspects he actually does listen to and enjoys.

Bella decides she doesn't care, either way. Who is she to judge for how people cope with their own repression? And by the stiff way he holds himself in the halls, she imagines that Edward is very much repressed.

"What I don't understand is why it seems like both you and your siblings hate me." Bella continues after a beat, when it's clear that he wasn't going to offer up another talking piece. "I mean, did I defeat one of your favorite fighters? I understand how that can harbor some hate - especially if you bet a lot of money on them."

"No - well, actually, you may have beaten one of Emmett's." Bella thinks back, recalling the dark haired boy of the family, chest and arms rippling with muscle.

"Does he fight? Emmett, I mean."

Edward shakes his head, odd set to his eyebrows that tells her she's not going to get the answers she wants. This is fine, too, again she doesn't really care. She has a lot more to worry about than a group of people with feelings about her that border hostile. "Nobody hates you, from my family, at least, Bella."

"You're wrong." Bella shakes her head, again, she really doesn't care. "The first day I walked into the cafeteria, Rosalie glared at me so much I thought she was going to come over and beat my ass."

He's quiet after that.

She'd been exaggerating, only a little, when she said that the entirety of the Cullens hated her. There was one that, for sure, did not.

As the bell calling for the end of second period let out, that one Cullen is quick to find her, with a smile and a wave. Alice, small and sweet, is gorgeous, too. Almost beyond belief. Surprisingly, Bella gets to catch a brief glimpse those jaw-dropping golden irises before they shift quickly to that all too familiar black. Bella pretends not to notice the same strain in her neck that Edward had sported only moments before.

"Bella, Bella!" Alice twirls behind her, stopping in front to catch her hands. "Hello, hello."

"Hey, Alice." Bella's grin is soft when she greets, shoulder drooping in relief. Alice didn't worry Bella like Edward did, didn't make every hair on her body stand on end, didn't make her feel like she was going to have to start fighting at a moments notice. Alice was different, she didn't glare, didn't sneer through her teeth like her boyfriend and her sister had - and still do - but instead, on the first day of the cafeteria when Jessica had been pointing people out, Alice had waved and smiled. A stark contrast to the murderous glances from the other Cullens at the table.

"Oh, don't mind them." Angela soothed, sighing when Bella flinched from their gazes. "That's just how they look."

"I don't mind." Bella picks her fingers up in a semblance of a wave towards the small girl, all the way across the room. "I've fought scarier." She catches the way the biggest boy at the table had started laughing and how the glower from the beautiful blonde girl had deepened. And despite how her eyes and hair and soft length of Rosalie's neck had made Bella's heart jump to beat in double-time, she turned away.

She's fought bullies all her life. She wasn't about to let a few teenagers from Podunk, USA bully her. At least, not without a fight.

"I just had the most exhilarating talk with your brother." Bella opens her locker, sarcasm dripping like rain from her voice, careful to leave enough room for the person beside her.

"Uh-oh." Bella can hear Alice sigh.

"He agreed, for once, that I do not stink."

"Oh, silly, silly, Bella! You never did." Alice giggles, tugging on her hand, growing a little too serious for her face. "In fact, you smell quite, amazingly, good."

"Well," Bella watches the way that Alice's eyes freeze over, staring off into a space she can't see herself, an irritated frown falling over her usual cheery disposition. "That's… good to know. Are you okay, Alice?"

Alice suddenly snaps to attention, gaze cutting across the hall. This space, Bella can see all too well. In this space, the faces of Jasper, Emmett, and Rosalie appear. Jasper's eyes are for Alice, only. And Emmett's got his arms around Rosalie, muscles flexing, bear toothed grin biting out at anybody with enough confidence to look at them for longer than a few seconds. Rosalie's eyes find hers, like magnets slotting into place. And it's the same routine for months now. They make eye contact. Rosalie snarls, teeth sharp and unforgiving, it sends shivers down Bella's back, and in response Bella rolls her eyes - for a moment she considers sticking out her tongue, because that would show her.

"Bye, Bella, Bella!" Alice chirps, skipping down the halls to grab Jasper by the arm, snapping the other's out of their seemingly protective stance.

Rosalie's gaze doesn't break with hers until she's turned around completely. This time, Bella really does stick her tongue out behind the blonde's back.

One, two, three, four. Thud after thud, her fists connect with the bag, abdomen muscles tight and back pulled straight. Her fists connect, and she draws them right back, dancing around the bag, dodging imaginary punches.

It's crowded in the gym tonight, a lot of police officers, but also a lot of school mates, staring at her in awe. Fire drips from her back, down her legs, her arms. She grunts as she throws hits, hearing the jingle of chains from the ceiling, threatening to come off.

"Destined for the gods." She can hear people whisper. "Destined for victory."

so, here's my crack head fic-

i promise im going to work on my other one's soon, i'm going back and forth writing this one and the five others i have...

let me know what y'all thought 3