Beyond Time by TKegl, A - D

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Beyond Time by TKegl
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5755522/1/
"For those of us who believe in physics, this separation between past, present
and future is only an illusion, however tenacious."
-Albert Einstein
Prologue – Of Warm Skin and Wishful Thinking
I'd never really understood the phrase "my heart caught in my throat" until that
moment.
For there he was.
And he looked exactly the same.
And he looked completely different.
I stood at the gate, my trembling hand resting on the painted wood, and took in
the sight of him. His hair was the reddish-brown I remembered, but instead of
wildly exploding around his head, he had tamed it with some sort of gel or
pomade. Still, a few rebellious locks escaped, falling over his sweaty forehead as
he worked.
He had removed his jacket and tie – I could see them tossed over the porch
railing – and rolled up the sleeves of his crisp, white shirt. The corded muscles of
his forearms tightened and released as he worked the shovel into the garden soil.
My eyes wandered down his body, capturing flashes of images in the midst of my
shock – the crisp pleats on the front of his trousers, the smudge of dirt above his
knee, the scuffed brown shoe pushing forcefully on the blade of the shovel.
He paused, lifting a gloved hand to his forehead, wiping away the sweat on his
brow, frowning at the stubborn stump before him. Suddenly he stiffened, as if
realizing he was being watched.
And he turned in my direction.
And I gasped.
I had always loved his eyes – whether they were black with thirst or amber with
satiation. But these eyes were neither of those things.
I knew they wouldn't be, that this wasn't the Edward I knew.
Yet it still surprised me to see it in person. To see, instead of topaz or amber or
black, a rich, dark green.
Carlisle had told me they'd been green.
Right now they regarded me warily, then curiously.
Still he said nothing. He just stood there, watching me. His gaze dipped down
briefly before meeting mine once again. He colored slightly, a sheepish smile
lighting his features.
Damn. He was checking me out.
I tried to draw a breath, but the tightness in my chest made it impossible.
I couldn't even blame the damned corset this time.
He stood, loosely holding the shovel, and watched as I lifted the gate latch with a
shaking hand, then slowly approached him. I drank him in thirstily, having been
deprived of him for so long. With each step the hole in my heart constricted a
little more and by the time I stood before him, it was like it never existed.
Edward.
Without even realizing it, I reached out and his eyes widened in surprise. I
hesitated only briefly before stroking my trembling fingers down his cheek.
His skin was not pale… not cold… not hard.
It was soft… and warm. Clean-shaven, yet his beard had started to grow back,
tickling my fingers. My fingers trailed down his face to his full, pink lips.
I could feel his warm breath on my fingertips and my body burst into flames, as it
always did when I was near him. Even after all this time, it remembered. Even
though he was different, it remembered.
"Edward," I whispered.
He replied quietly, "I'm sorry," and my fingers tingled at the vibration of his
mouth. Because although his voice missed the musical quality I'd come to know
so well, the velvet tones still wrapped around his words in a familiar way.
His eyes locked on mine and my heart stopped again, my hand dropping to my
side and a tear trickling down my cheeks at the next words to escape his lips.
"Do I know you?"
"In any weather, at any hour of the day or night, I have been anxious to improve
the nick of time, and notch it on my stick too; to stand on the meeting of two
eternities, the past and the future, which is precisely the present moment; to toe
that line."
- Henry David Thoreau
Chapter 1 – Of Rituals and Really Big Dicks
One week earlier/92 years later
"C'mon, Bells, it'll be fun!" Jake pleaded, grasping my hand and holding it close to
his massive chest.
"I don't know, Jake. You know I'm not really into that woo-woo stuff," I all-but-
whined, "and I have a ton of homework to do."
"It's Friday night," he argued. "You have all weekend for homework. Please
Bella," he begged, "don't make me go alone."
Jake wasn't playing fair. He knew I couldn't say no to him when he really wanted
something. I owed him too much.
It had been six months since the Cullens left… since he left, saying he didn't love
me anymore.
I'm not an idiot. I knew he was lying. He does… did… love me and left because of
some twisted obligation to protect me.
It broke my heart.
It pissed me off.
And it didn't really matter. Why he left didn't matter, because he was gone – they
all were. I didn't know where they were. I couldn't find them if I wanted to.
And I wanted to… a lot.
But I wouldn't know where to begin. They could go anywhere… and over the
decades they'd learned to blend in. If they didn't want to be found, I knew they
wouldn't be.
So I stayed here in Forks, pissed off and broken.
It was Jacob Black who picked up the pieces. Who helped fill… or at least patch…
the hole left in my heart when he left me. Jake gave me a way to fill my days…
he taught me to smile again.
He loved me.
I knew this, and even though I couldn't love him back, I took his love and held it
selfishly close to me.
Some days it was all that kept me from collapsing to the ground and giving into
tears and screams and sobs and darkness.
So when Jake asked me for something, I was hard-pressed to deny him.
"I wouldn't have to do anything, right?" I asked, knowing I would give in.
He knew it too, and his smile brightened.
"No, of course not," he assured me. "We'll just sit back and watch, I promise."
He didn't even give me a chance to agree, just pulled me down the beach and
toward his house, my smaller hand clutched in his huge one.
"It doesn't start until dark," he said, "so let's get something to eat first. I'm
starving!"
We walked toward his little red house, and I asked Jake to explain tonight's ritual
to me one more time.
"It's really quite an honor to be invited," he began, slowing his long strides to
match mine as we walked down the gravel street. "John Sally is the oldest
shaman on the Pacific Coast, and representatives from tribes from Canada to
Northern California consult with him."
"What exactly is it he's going to do?" I asked tentatively.
"You've heard of a vision quest?" Jake asked.
"Yeah, I think so," I replied. "I saw one in a movie once. It's like a rite of passage
or something, right?"
"Yeah," Jake nodded. "Well a Spirit Walk is kind of like that. When a guy turns
fifteen, he goes through the ritual. It's supposed to put him in touch with his
spirit guide… show him his path, his destiny."
I was skeptical. Now, it's not that I didn't believe in the supernatural. After all, I'd
hung out with a houseful of vampires… and my best friend was a werewolf.
Oh, didn't I mention that?
Yeah. Jake was part of a pack of werewolves dedicated to protecting the Quileute
tribe from what they called, 'The Cold Ones'… in other words, vampires.
Of course, the vampires were gone, but the damage had already been done. The
mere presence of the Cullens triggered a genetic change in the teenage male
population, causing them to transform into giant wolves.
I know, right?
So of all people, I should be very open-minded about something as tame as a
Spirit Walk. But just because the supernatural world had been thrust upon me
didn't mean I eagerly jumped into every mystical opportunity.
I mean, I didn't wear crystals or dance naked under the full moon or anything.
Even though I'm pretty sure Jake would encourage that.
Jake continued to explain the Spirit Walk ritual… that each boy would choose a
natural totem of sorts to focus their spiritual power – like a special rock or branch
from a tree. It had to be something from nature that was special to them in some
way.
It sounded kind of weird to me, but who was I to judge?
Then the shaman would lead the meditation ritual.
At this point Jake hesitated.
"What?" I asked. I had only been half-listening, but his evident discomfort
sparked my curiosity.
We had arrived at his house and stood facing each other in the front yard.
"Okay, you have to keep an open mind," he began.
"What, Jake?" I asked impatiently.
"Have you heard of peyote?"
I did a mental Google. Peyote. I'd heard of that before. Wait a second…
"Peyote? You mean they do drugs?"
Jake rolled his eyes and crossed his beefy arms in front of his chest, feet planted
firmly apart.
"Shit, Bella. It's not 'drugs'."
"Of course it is," I mimicked his stance. "Peyote causes hallucinations."
"It's part of a traditional ritual," Jake said stubbornly. "Consumed in small doses,
peyote can bring spiritual clarity and introspection."
"What, are you writing a pamphlet?" I scoffed.
"They're not using peyote anyway," Jake admitted. "It doesn't grow around here
and it's illegal to transport across state lines. I just thought that if you'd heard
about it, it would help you understand what's going to happen." He looked away.
"Jake," I said, waiting for him to look at me. "What's going to happen?"
"Well," he began, "I'm not exactly sure, but sometimes the ritual does involve
mushrooms."
"I'm assuming you don't mean portabellas."
Jake smirked. "No, Bella. I think you know what kind I mean."
I paced away from him a few steps, then turned and walked back to face him.
"So, just to clarify things…" I raised a hand, counting off on my fingers. "We're
talking chanting, meditating, singing, drum beating, and possible ingestion of
magic mushrooms. Does that about cover it?"
Jake was silent for a moment, then he offered a curt nod.
I knew I really shouldn't go. My dad was the Chief of Police, after all. Charlie
would flip out if he knew I was anywhere near those goofy 'shrooms.
But somehow, I couldn't bring myself to care.
I used to care. I used to try and do the right thing. I studied hard, treated people
kindly, minded my own business… kept a lot of important secrets.
And where did it get me?
Alone, except for Jake. And he was asking me for a favor.
"Sounds like fun," I sighed, then at the sight of his toothy grin, I felt my own
mouth curve into a smile. "Do I get my own drum?"
We ate huge sandwiches and chips at Jake's chipped kitchen table. Actually, I
only ate half a sandwich and Jake had two… plus my other half. Werewolves, I
was learning, ate a lot. Something to do with their high body temperature. And
all that running around in the woods. Although I don't know why they even did
that anymore, since the vamps were gone. Maybe they chased squirrels. I asked
Jake that once as a joke.
He didn't think it was funny.
Night fell and I called Charlie to let him know I'd be staying in La Push for a
while. He was working anyway and was more than happy to encourage my time
with Jake. I knew he still held high hopes that Jake and I would get together, and
I let him keep that hope alive since it made him so happy.
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