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The Sharpest Lives

Summary:
“So, there are real werewolves?” Bella asked. “With the full moon ad silver bullets and all that?” Jacob snorted. “Real. Does that make me imaginary?” “You know what I mean.” “Full moon, yes,” Edward said. “Silver bullets, no – that was just another one of those myths to make humans feel like they had a sporting chance. There aren’t very many of them left. Caius has had them hunted into near extinction.” (Breaking Dawn 745) You’re the one that I need, I’m the one that you loathe… ---JokesOnJane, you're AMAZING!!!1! Thanks for the banner!


Notes:
*All publicly recognizable characters are the property of Stephenie Meyer. **All song lyrics in this story are from the album The Black Parade, by My Chemical Romance. The title of this story is also a title of a song from that album.


2. Brace Yourselves

Rating 5/5   Word Count 1095   Review this Chapter

I said hallelujah

…come on, sing their praise .

So let

the spirit come on

through you,

we got innocence for days.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………….....

Jacob’s pack had returned to La Push shortly after the confrontation with the Volturi the previous year. Although they remained separate, the two packs were cordial and forgiving of one another. Susan Clearwater was relieved to have her son back and praised her daughter’s decision to attend the local community college along with yoga classes. Jacob’s home was, technically, with his father but he often spent more time at the Cullens’ home with Renesmee.

The pack was indefinitely linked with the Cullen family, and both parties acknowledged this. They shared every aspect of their lives together willingly. They shared excitement and fun. They shared drama and exhaustion.

And now, they would share anxiety and frustration.

“What do you mean, you lost it?!!” Leah shrieked. She was standing akimbo in front of her brother who was more or less cowering on the sofa. Leah was staring him down in the living room of the Cullens’ home, furious. While the vampires were preparing for their guest who would arrive in a matter of hours, she was busy trying to wring answers out of Seth.

Seth muttered an apology. “It’s not like I did it on purpose.”

Esme stepped into the room and intervened. “What is it that you lost?”

“I didn’t lose it,” Leah snapped. “He did!”

“I said I was sorry.” Seth gritted his teeth.

“What did you lose?” Jacob asked, entering the room.

I didn’t lose it,” Leah snarled. She was still staring at Seth and began tapping her foot in frustration.

Renesmee, who was at Jacob’s side, flitted closer to Leah and placed her hands against Leah’s temples. She projected an image of Leah’s lost object, her car keys, into her mind. Leah relaxed slightly, but was still irritated at her younger brother.

“I can’t believe you dropped them,” she said in exasperation.

“Are you two still arguing? Shouldn’t you be doing something productive? Like, oh…let’s say…patrolling?” Jacob emphasized the last word.

“Yes, Alpha,” Leah jeered, stalking out of the house, planning on picking up her keys from the side of the road first.

Seth breathed a sigh of relief when his sister was out of hearing range. “Thanks, Jake. I owe you one.”

Jacob didn’t move. “I mean it.”

“Huh?” Seth sat up a little straighter. “You mean, you weren’t bluffing to get Leah out of my hair?”

“This is my bluffing face,” Jacob said, changing his expression to something more amiable. “And this,” he said, changing again to the previous expression, “is my Alpha face. One, two, three, patrol.”

Seth immediately leap out of his seat and flew out the door. Esme laughed as she left the room. The relationship that the pack had with each other never ceased to tickle her amusement. The typical family dynamics was expressed in their lives together just as strongly as it was expressed in her life with her coven.

“What can I do to help?” Renesmee asked Esme. She and Jacob followed her up the stairs and into Carlisle’s study.

“Nothing at the moment. All we can do is wait,” Esme answered her grand-daughter, kissing her forehead affectionately. “Perhaps you should go hunting, though. We want you on your best behavior for our little guest.”

“Why is that? Will he smell…tempting?” she asked, thinking of her first encounter with Charlie.

Jacob, standing just behind Renesmee, approved of the question. “What if one of you eats him?”

Carlisle chuckled from behind his desk. “The chance of that happening is highly unlikely. Werewolves hardly smell to our kind, so he shouldn’t be appealing at all to you, Nessie. Although, we’re not sure how long he’s been plagued, so there is a chance that he could smell relatively human.” He looked up from the stuffy book he was pouring over to meet Renesmee’s gaze. “It’s only a precaution, dear. Everyone else will hunt as well.”

As if on cue, Jacob urged Renesmee out of the room and towards the door, challenging her to a contest. “The one to catch the biggest wins!” he chortled, reviving one of their favorite games.

Esme turned to her husband, searching for answers. “Anything?”

He closed the book he was reading and looked up at her. “Nothing.”

“You would think we could find more…” Esme thought absentmindedly, moving closer to the desk and taking the book in her hands. It was an exceptionally old volume of lore slurred in scripture, as many of the historical or epic records often were. In it were some of the oldest recordings of werewolf activity in England, altered to suit the needs of the monks at the time. Esme put it down and drifted towards a line of scrolls on Carlisle’s bookshelf.

“Nothing there, either.”

“Nothing?” she asked, opening one of the scrolls gingerly. “Nothing at all?”

Carlisle shook his head. “The Romans created stories about werewolves to entertain the masses. Whether or not they actually saw them is entirely up to debate.”

Esme nodded. “So, just to clarify what we know…”

“We only know that it’s a disease spread orally and, in the first stages, can cause the infected to become insane.”

“It’s a shame that so many of the myths are myths,” Esme mused. Changing the atmosphere, for she felt that her husband needed a break from his grim studies, she turned to him and grinned. “Come hunting with us!” she pleaded.

“I would like to get some more work done befo-”

“Please?” Esme asked, angling her face in such a manner that Carlisle couldn’t help but focus on her dimple. “It’s not a complete necessity to know about werewolves.”

He smiled, unable to say no to his wife. “Of course it’s not. Let’s go.”

The rest of that evening would pass by too quickly. The coven was anxious to greet their visitor and send him on his way. There was no telling what reaction this would trigger in the Volturi. The Cullen family was determined to be as neutral as possible in this brief exposure to the other side of the surreal world. The situation was delicate; if the Volturi was angered, there would be consequences. If the werewolves were angered, there would be consequences. Although the vampires were on edge, the pack was more eager than cautious when they considered meeting a werewolf. They wanted to know exactly how similar they were and if werewolves could explain the many questions the shape-shifters had about themselves.

Answers were only a few hours away.