Okay, so I've had this in my head and decided to roll with it. It will follow some of the basic concepts of the Twilight series and totally ignore others - such as imprinting. Okay, it really ignores others. If you've read my stuff in the past, you know how much I loathe the idea of it, but I do believe in soul mates so I'm like a contradiction within myself and I'm cool with that. Thanks to Mrs. Trent Reznor for inspiring this bit of Paul/Bella fan fiction. She's been a great sounding board for me lately. If you haven't read her story, Apologies, shame on you and do that immediately after reading this. Super duper thanks to my beta, krystal214, for just being so rocking. I have no words but she knows I appreciate her...well I hope she does :)

I jump out of my dad's cruiser (Yes, mortifying, I know) and bound up the steps, impatiently waiting for him. He just laughs as he ruffles my hair. I can't help but whine like the 15 year old girl I am. "Dad, come on... God!"

He opens the door and I run upstairs straight to my room. I push open the door, flop onto my bed and just breathe. I don't know what it is about this gloomy, soggy, obscure corner of the northwestern seaboard, but I always feel at home when I'm here. Here, is Forks, Washington where my dad is Chief of Police.

My parents got divorced way back in the day when my mom and her hippie-soul, as dad calls it, couldn't live here anymore. She needed the sun, the warmth that she could never find here in Forks. My dad, being the quiet and easygoing man that he is, just let her go. He let her go because he had loved her that much.

Of course I was too tiny to really remember any of that. Dad has told me that their arguments had been getting really intense and one rare, bright sunny day, Renee told him she wanted a divorce. He said his heart broke twice that day because he knew I would be going with her.

He has told me repeatedly over the years that he never hurt as much as he did that day she packed and left for the airport with me in tow. He knew that being a cop and a single dad would be too much for a small kid so he did what was best for me. The only provision was that I would be his every summer and every other Christmas.

I lived for the times with my dad, even though I sucked at fishing and baseball always kind of put me to sleep. Since I'm also pretty clumsy and with the forest practically in our backyard, I have had more scrapes and bruises than the average bear, I never felt quite as myself as I did here with Charlie.

Now don't get me wrong, I love Renee. She's fun, full of energy, free-flowing, and most of my friends (the few that I have had) always whined about how she was so cool. I get that and I agree, but sometimes I needed a mom more than I needed a friend. I needed someone to see me and not push me to be like them. I don't think she does it on purpose or because she doesn't love me as is, I just think she feels I should be more.

I never feel that way around my dad. He just lets me be, a horrible fisherman and a clumsy twit.

"So kid, ya up for a drive to La Push?" I roll over onto my stomach to look at my dad with a bright smile on my face.

I push myself up onto my elbows. "Billy and Jake's?"

He nods. "And pizza along with the Mariners game that's on tonight. They got one of those new flat screen TVs." I roll my eyes at that last bit. He laughs, "Don't know how you came from my loins and not know the frigging difference between a bat and a fishing pole."

Fifteen minutes later, we're heading to La Push. The drive is short and I don't think my dad's even put the car in park before the front door of the little red house opens up and Jake barrels out. I barely have my door open when his arms are wrapped around me.

His voice, still soft but slightly squeaky now, is full of sunshine. "Bells! You're here!"

I push him away and ruffle his hair. "Yeah, brat, I am. Look at you. Seems someone got a bit taller."

He smiles brightly at me before grabbing my hand and pulling me up the makeshift ramp and into the house. Billy's rolling himself out of the kitchen. "Jake, let go of that girl's hand before you yank it off. Hey there, Bells. How was your flight?"

Jake drops my hand and I notice he's blushing furiously. I rub his forearm quickly before answering Billy. "Same old, same old. I fell asleep twenty minutes in the air. Hey, are the girls here?"

Rebecca and Rachel are Jake's older twin sisters. They're actually two years older than me. Jake answers, "Nah. Rachel's at Harry's house visiting Leah and Becca said she had a date." Jake teases me, "Not that you know what those are."

I gasp at him before smacking him with one of the throw pillows. This, of course, sets off a mini-wrestling match. The little booger's an inch or two taller than me now and has gotten a bit stronger than last summer. My dad comes in and clears his throat, making Jake scramble back onto the couch.

I've always gotten along better with Jake than his sisters anyway. Rachel picks on me, a lot. Becca's more laidback, but really never pays me any mind. Jake? It's impossible not to get along with him. Plus, I've never really been a girly-girl. My head's always in a book. Yeah, not really the twins' cup of tea, but whatever. Jake's the best friend any girl or guy could want and he's mine.

We're watching the game and I'm trying my best to understand what a balk is while waiting for the pizza when it happens. Billy's phone starts to ring at the same time as my dad's cell and someone starts pounding on the door before throwing it open.

A teenage boy bursts through and screams for my dad and Billy to come quick. My dad's talking into his phone as Billy tells Sam, the teenager, to calm down and explain what's going on, while still on the cordless handset he had answered.

At the words "Shots Fired", my dad takes off with Sam as Billy is speaking to whoever is on the phone. "Yeah, Sue. Over at the Lahote's...I don't know. I just don't know...Uh, huh, well, I got the kids...goddamn it!"

Billy slams the phone down, only to pick it right back up. We hear him ask for Old Quil, not to be confused with Quil, Jake's friend. Once again, he tries to speak with his voice low, but I catch a few words here and there. Since my dad has such a great relationship with the people of La Push, he sort of acts as their private police every once in a while, especially if it's something serious like having shots fired.

Jake grabs my hand, looking nervous. I try to smile to reassure him, but I'm just as scared as he is. I don't know how much time passes, but I get up. It's as if I have some sort of pull making me do so.

I make my way to the front door and open it to step out onto the porch. The air seems still, but thick with tension as if the very trees that surround us know something bad, something evil, has happened in our little neck of the woods.

The hairs on my arms are standing up. Silence. I can hear my own heart beating. I can feel the first drops of sweat slide down my forehead. Then all at once the leaves in the trees shake, as the birds explode from them. Suddenly the chirps of the grasshoppers and the roar of the ocean pounding on the sand seem too loud.

I don't even feel my feet touch the ground as I take off, ignoring the shouts of Billy and the footsteps pounding behind me. I run down the road past a couple of the Black's neighbors. It's as if some unseen, unknown force is directing me.

I barely hear Jake shouting my name. The roaring in my ears makes me run harder, faster. Finally, I clear a small brush and turn the corner to run down a gravelly driveway. There are shouts heard ahead. Someone's in agony, in utter and complete pain. My heart breaks over and over as I finally see him.

Sam has one of his arms wrapped tightly around the arm of a struggling kid while Harry Clearwater has him wrapped around the waist. On the ground, there's a sheet covering a body too large to be a woman. The kid is screaming, cursing, trying to free himself from those who are trying to hold him back when Charlie comes out of the house and a car honks behind me.

I am pulled out of the way by Jake, who looks pissed and confused all at once. Sue Clearwater then jumps out of her car with a small black medical bag. I had forgotten she was a nurse.

She's all business as Harry wrestles the belligerent kid to the ground with my dad's help. I notice that the boy looks to be about Jake's age, but it's his eyes that make him seem older. Sue then takes a needle out of her bag as the kid thrashes even more violently.

"Get the fuck off of me! Get off! That fucking bastard! He did this! He d...did...this..."

Each word is full of pain; full of intense anger even as the tranquilizer Sue administers renders him unconscious.

Nothing else is said. I let go of Jake's hand to walk closer, ignoring the onlookers stares and the deadly glare my father is sending my way. I come upon the now sedated boy lying in the dirt, peacefully oblivious as the coroner's van rolls up.

I don't know how long I stood there looking at him. Sue stayed kneeling beside him, brushing his hair off his face as my hands itched to do the same. Her voice is so sad, "Oh baby. Oh Paul, how I wish I, we, could have spared you this."

His face scrunches up in response, almost as if he hears her. I do believe that's the moment I fell in love with Paul Lahote - even if I hadn't a clue at the time.