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Morning Dew

Did the battle scene at the end of Breaking Dawn leave you feeling cheated?
Were you expecting an epic fight and some well-deserved suffering?
Did Bella's perfect happiness get on your nerves? This is my alternate ending to Breaking Dawn.

I don't know about you, but Breaking Dawn severely diminished my excitement about Twilight. I just didn't like the book much. The characters were all totally off, the plot was not well thought-through, and the writing made my eyes water. When the book finally advanced to the battle scene, I was exultant -- I thought that the story would finally take the right turn and amend for all the confusion from the beginning. But then nothing happened. SM later called it "strategy"... but I seriously see no connection between what happened in BD and The Merchant of Venice by Shakespeare. So I decided to test the waters myself, and see if I could do any better. That being said, I would like to remind you of two things: a) I am not an author. I know I'm not better than SM. I'm just a sixteen-year-old venting her frustration.
b) I don't mean to offend anyone who liked BD. Everyone's entitled to an own opinion. You can still enjoy this story if you did :) The story kicks off right where the Volturi are deciding whether or not to attack. Until then everything stays as it is -- if you need to refresh your memory, feel free to check Breaking Dawn (I had to do that quite a lot, especially in the beginning. I hope there are no contradictions. If you find any, however, please let me know). The italics in the beginning are straight from the book. Beta'ed by TRDancer from fanfiction.net

10. Patience

Rating 5/5   Word Count 3123   Review this Chapter

We were gathered in the now light living room, sitting or standing stiffly and trying to ignore the discomfort.

Esme had drawn back the curtains and swiftly dusted the cushions, so the room was noticeably less stuffy than the last time I'd been there. Still, it did little to improve the atmosphere. It could just as well have been dark and dusty.

No one was smiling. Esme was standing by the window and hugging herself, an aloof expression on her face. She'd changed her clothes, however, and looked much better than before. Maybe it was because we were all in the same room again.

I still couldn't believe we'd managed to bring everyone together, and even less so when I considered that it had been Carlisle who'd summoned us. It had taken a great deal of pleading to make Edward come with me, and from the tired look on Emmett's face, I guessed it had been the same case with Rosalie. In fact, I was still surprised I'd succeeded. When Esme had first suggested it, Edward had turned the idea down right away. But after some coaxing I had got him to join me after all—by reminding him of our responsibility to Renesmee and how we were obliged to do whatever we could to find her, even if that meant swallowing down our antagonism. I didn't like Edward's self-disgust, but I had to admit that guilt was a great weapon when I needed one.

Nevertheless, the atmosphere was tense. Carlisle still wasn't here to tell us his great "new idea", and I kept worrying that Edward would dart off if he didn't show up soon.

Suddenly, Rosalie bounced up from her seat beside Emmett and threw her arms in the air. "This is a waste of my time!" she said sourly. "What does Carlisle want from us? To sit around and pretend to be a family long enough that we somehow magically forgive him?"

"Rose," Emmett muttered, tugging at her sleeve. She shrugged him off.

"Rosalie, please," Esme pleaded. "I'm sure Carlisle has a very good reason for calling us all together. Renesmee's safety is his first priority."

Rosalie barked out a humorless laugh. "His first priority. Right. I don't know how you think this sitting around is helping us, but I'm leaving." She strode across the living room and towards the front door, throwing her head about angrily.

"Wait!" Emmett called out desperately. "Let's just wait for a few more minutes. Running around pointlessly outside won't help anyone either. And let's face it—we need some ideas…"

Ignoring her husband's words, Rosalie reached for the door handle and was about to open the door when a white hand suddenly appeared on top of hers, restraining her.

"Wait," Edward told her, forcing Rosalie to look up at him. "This is probably something you'll want to hear. Trust me."

I gaped at my husband. While just a few minutes ago his eyes had been shaded and doubtful, he was now glowing with newly lightened anticipation. His stance no longer drooped like a dead flower, but I could practically feel vitality radiating off him and filling the room. And from the look on Rosalie's face, I wasn't the only one to see the difference.

The sudden hope in him was contagious. Once again I found myself perking up and expecting something more than… well, nothing. What could have triggered this change in Edward?

Esme, too, had a whole new look on her face—one of admiration. She opened her mouth to say something, but before she could begin the living room door swung open and a terrible stench filled the room.

"Eeeeeeew," Emmett groaned, pinching his nose in disgust. His expression would have been funny, had I been in the right state to laugh.

But still, I couldn't blame him. The smell was unbearable. As Carlisle and his guests entered the room, I made sure to stop breathing so I wouldn't have to spend the rest of the day choking out the filthy air.

Sam and Seth entered the room with two completely different expressions on their faces: Seth with a worried and Sam with a wary one. While Seth instantly paced over to where we were sitting, Sam gave us a wide berth and kept close to the exit. Carlisle came in last, looking more like himself than he had in days. He regarded us all in turn, and his face seemed to lighten up when he noticed that we were all there.

"I'm sorry for keeping you waiting," he said in his usual calm tone. "It was harder to find Seth than I thought it would be."

Seth looked at us sheepishly and smiled halfheartedly. Edward, who was pointedly ignoring Carlisle, walked over to him and punched him playfully on the shoulder. "Seth! Where have you been all these days?"

Seth's smile broadened a little. "Doing what you've been doing: looking for Jacob." Suddenly his smile vanished. "Without much luck, I should add."

Edward nodded knowingly and patted him on the arm. "It's all right. We've all been having trouble finding them."

It warmed my heart to see that Edward's friendship with Seth hadn't been destroyed by the hard times, but I found myself incapable of saying anything. I just stared at them curiously, puzzling over why they were here. I'd forgotten all about the wolves. Of course they would be looking for their leader and former pack member just as we were looking for Renesmee. I felt stupid for not thinking of them before. And yet I failed to see what was so important about having them here. Yes, we had more people searching now, but as long as we didn't know where exactly to begin, they were of no use. If only there was a way to…

"Of course!" I cried out loud, turning every gaze in the room on me. I jumped to my feet and scurried over to Seth and Edward. "You can contact Jacob! You can hear his mind everywhere! You can tell him to come back!"

It took a few confused moments for me to realize that no one else was jumping up and down in excitement. Glancing over the room, I noticed that most of my family was looking at me pityingly, as though I'd been the last to grasp something obvious and was still missing the whole point. Worried that I'd rejoiced too early, I turned my gaze back to Seth. He was looking back at me apologetically.

"I'm sorry Bella, but I can only communicate with Jacob when he is also in his wolf form," he explained carefully. "Unfortunately, his thoughts vanished soon after the battle. Leah and I guess that he phased back to keep Aro from seeing where he was in case your shield broke down."

Oh, Jacob. Now that I thought of it, I knew it was exactly what he should have done in that situation. How could he have known that it would backfire? I blinked, struggling to hold back the flood of despair that was threatening to engulf me.

"B-but then he'll probably phase back soon, right? He's your pack leader. He should let you know where he is," I argued frantically, trying to convince myself that I wasn't hoping in vain.

Seth shook his head. "Jacob is careful. As far as he knows, we could be prisoners right now. He doesn't want to give anything away to Aro. He'll probably avoid phasing until the last minute."

"Then what… are you doing here?" I asked, this time with audibly less enthusiasm in my voice.

This time it was Edward who answered. "However much he tries to avoid it, Jacob won't stay human forever. Sooner or later he'll have to turn back into a wolf, and when he does, he'll come home."

I stared at my husband, wondering why he was still glowing from excitement. Did he not see what I saw?

I was just about to voice my worries when Rosalie spoke up—or to be more precise, screamed out. "By which time Demetri will have long found them!" she bellowed. "We don't have time to wait. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if the Volturi had them already!"

Ignoring the ever-growing fears, I turned to Edward desperately, hoping that he had the argument I couldn't find.

"He doesn't have them yet," he promised both me and Rosalie. "If the Volturi had attacked, Jacob would most certainly have phased. He won't turn himself and Renesmee in without putting up a fight."

Edward looked at me intensely, probably trying to transfer some of his hope to me. Behind him, Rosalie groaned. "Great, so now we are waiting for Jacob to phase and hoping he doesn't at the same time? I'm sorry, but I don't see the ingenious plan."

I stared back at Edward and tried to hope with all my heart, but felt nothing. Sorrowfully, I looked back at Edward and murmured, "I'm sorry, Edward, but Rosalie has a point. I don't see—"

"It's better than nothing," he countered, turning to Seth. "Is Leah in her wolf form? We have to be ready in case Jacob phases."

Seth nodded, still looking at me contritely. Not bearing to look into his dark brown eyes, I turned away from him. His russet skin, his strong heartbeat, his smell—it all reminded me too much of Jacob.

"I'd like to talk to her, if you don't mind," Edward said, striding towards the door. "Where is she exactly? North-west?"

Suddenly, Carlisle was in front of him. "Wait," he told Edward, returning his ice cold stare with a warm, apologetic one. Edward halted immediately and took one step back, as if he could bear to be so close to his father.

"Sam has something to say," Carlisle explained quietly, raising his hands a little. It looked like a sign of submission. "He just told me something very interesting about shapeshifters."

Shapeshifters? I didn't understand what he was talking about. Taking a short look around the room, I could see that I wasn't the only one.

Sam shifted on his feet every so slightly, and his cagey expression clearly gave away that he wasn't entirely comfortable with the situation. Nevertheless, his deep voice was steady and certain when he spoke. "I can see you have never heard the term before," he began, looking each of in the eye despite his caution. "'Shapeshifter' is the real term for what we are. We call ourselves werewolves only because we happen to take the form of a wolf. Technically, it could have been any animal."

Sam paused for a second before continuing, allowing us a moment to digest the information. It was surprising, to say the least—a little like growing up thinking that the Tooth Fairy is real, and then being told by an older friend that she is not. I stared at him disbelievingly.

"There are others like us around the world," he continued, "but none who turn into wolves. Until now, of course. We used to be one single pack, the wolf shapeshifters… and now we are two."

"Interesting," Edward breathed out, the antagonism towards Carlisle wiped off of his face again. He was still glowing with hope, but seemed calmer now, more concentrated.

"Yes, yes, very interesting," Rosalie's sharp voice shattered the air, "but once again I feel like we are completely missing the point here. Unless you have something to add, I'm leaving."

The look Sam gave Rosalie was venomous. She quieted instantly and raised her eyebrows provocatively.

"You are impatient," Sam told her. "I'm surprised life hasn't taught you otherwise yet."

Rosalie didn't say anything, but by the expression on her face I could see that she wasn't delighted. But Sam's calm, sure tone made it impossible to argue back.

He turned away from her and addressed all of us again. "As I was saying, we have lately split into two different packs." He didn't speak without regret. "This is not how nature intended it. We shapeshifters don't have many advantages when fighting against your kind. You are superior in strength, endurance, and speed. The only thing we have on our side is numbers. Vampires work alone—even in covens. You do not create lasting bonds. We, on the other hand, work in interconnected groups. We are tangled in each other. One wolf alone is not a big threat, but a whole pack…" He paused with a frustrated expression on his face. I could tell that this wasn't information he wanted to share with us.

"Nature mends what is broken," he finally stated. "When there are two different packs of the same kind, especially if one of them is small, she tries to bring them together. Jacob's pack consists of three wolves—a much too small number to survive, would they be doing their jobs." Sam looked swiftly at Seth, who was frowning and looking at the floor guiltily.

"But how can two packs find each other?" I asked, willing him to continue.

Sam looked at me. It could have been my imagination, but his expression seemed to be less wary. "There's a call. The smaller pack is drawn towards the bigger one. The call is subtle, but it's there."

"So Jacob is drawn back to us?" I asked incredulously. It sounded too good to be true.

"The further away he gets from us, the stronger the call will become," Sam explained. "But there is a problem. Jacob doesn't know what's happening—the call was so weak when we were living next to each other, he's never felt it before. As I said, the call is subtle. He could choose to ignore it."

"But if he's focused on getting Renesmee as far away from here as possible, why should he turn around?" I asked, not knowing whether to be hopeful or not.

"It's a question of which side of himself he chooses to follow: nature or reason."

I looked at my family. Everyone had a confused expression on their faces, as if they, too, were unsure of what to feel. Everything Sam said was interesting… but was it all that good? I couldn't think of any scenario in my head in which Jacob would choose to come back instead of fleeing. Renesmee was much too important to him for that.

"So… we wait?" I asked.

Sam nodded, and then looked back at Rosalie.

"Waiting has never done anyone any harm."


Jacob's POV

The breeze hit me in a steady beat as I jogged past another crossing, urging me on.

Thankfully, the distance between the towns was getting bigger and bigger, and the only people around were sitting in their cars and unable to see me through the trees. It had been tricky avoiding curious eyes when a town was nearby, but somehow I'd succeeded to stay out of sight—there had been some close calls, but I'd managed. I didn't even want to know what would have happened if I had been detected. What's the first thing an average human being thinks when they see a huge, brown-skinned guy with shabby clothes dashing past with a sobbing baby in his arms? That would have been fun.

I looked down at the little bundle in my arms. Nessie was—thank God—finally sleeping. She'd cried so hard for the first half of the journey that I'd feared she'd die from dehydration. Stupid, I know. But everything worried me nowadays.

But even in her sleep she didn't look serene. Nessie kept twisting and turning and mumbling something, and I was sure she wasn't dreaming of anything pleasant. I kept wondering whether I should wake her up. What was worse—nightmares in your head or nightmares in reality?

Nessie wasn't my only worry, though. I don't know why it was, but I kept having the bizarre feeling that I was running in the totally wrong direction. It was silly, because I knew exactly where the airport was. It was hard to miss—all traffic goes in that direction, and every airplane that flew over my head was either coming from or going there. But still some part of me was feeling that it was terribly wrong.

Maybe I was imagining it, but I actually felt like the feeling was getting stronger the closer I got to the airport. In fact, I'd come close to turning back a couple of times. But then Nessie had shifted in my arms or sighed or something, and I had kept going. In the end I decided that I was losing my mind. Hardly surprising, considering everything.

Another crossing appeared—this time with signs. Three miles to the airport. Finally.

I clutched the little bag Bella had given Nessie. The two plane tickets to Rio were inside, along with the fake passports that she had somehow obtained. Vanessa Wolf. Sheesh, how did she come up with these things?

We would be at the airport in less than fifteen minutes. Way too early for the flight, but I didn't care. I needed to get Nessie and myself fed before we could go anywhere. And I needed to get among people—no vamp would be dumb enough to attack in the middle of a crowd. I needed witnesses.

But was the airport really where I wanted to go? Maybe I was making a huge mistake. Maybe I should go back…

Stupid, stupid, stupid. I had to pull myself together. I had to stay sane. I was Nessie's only hope.

Another ten minutes later, I could already see the huge airport. There were no more trees to hide behind, and I'd had to force myself to slow down so I wouldn't attract that much attention. The ground beneath my bare feet was dry and lifeless. All I could see were gray, dirty roads and cement buildings everywhere. I hated airports.

Eventually, we did get into the building. Gray stone and artificial light everywhere. Unsmiling businessmen and women walking past me. Everyone was so busy with their lives that they didn't even notice the ruddy teenager with bare feet striding over the hall with a sleeping child in his arms.

I was about to check-in when I realized that I couldn't yet—check-in for my flight wasn't until in half and hour. Cursing under my breath, I withdrew into a dark corner and pushed Nessie against my chest in a vain effort to offer her shelter from the chaotic, loud airport. What could I do to pass the time?

Suddenly, my eyes detected something in the crowd. Behind a group of frowning teenagers, two figures were running through the masses. They kept bumping into people, but didn't even stop to apologize. Their skin was pale as snow and looked funny under the white light.

And they were running straight towards me.