(Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. I'm going to play with the world though. In some things I will do my best to be accurate, in others not so much. This story will involve an f/f relationship/romance, if you can't handle this consider yourself warned. I will disregard any homophobic reviews. I do hope you enjoy this story though, I enjoy writing it. I'm happy to accept corrections and constructive criticisms. In all things have fun, and be kind.) The Pov in the story will change from Harper to Leah chapter by chapter.

Chapter 1 – Harper – Having Run So Far

The dark forest closed in around La Push road as I coaxed a little more power from my van's engine. The van had been struggling for the past forty kilometers… miles rather, and I was really hoping it would hold out until I reached the small coastal settlement. Listening to the engine whine, I cursed myself for not stopping in Forks to try and find a mechanic, but the day was drawing to a close, and I had wanted to reach the coast before nightfall. It was often difficult to find a quiet place to park my van for the night, and if I wasn't careful I might find myself driving around until the early morning trying to find a decent place to pull up. Unfortunately the van decided that my plans didn't really matter all that much to it, and as it trundled its way between the damp green and brown trees, I was beginning to get a sinking feeling that it might not make it La Push at all, let alone keep moving long enough to find a nice place to sleep. It wasn't surprising really.

The van was a '66 model VW Kombi, and although it had been well loved by its previous owner, reconditioned and altered for comfort, I had been driving it pretty hard for the past few months. I'd bought the van, for a generously small amount from an old woman in San Francisco, shortly after I'd arrived in the US in June. I'd been fresh off the plane and ridiculously jet-lagged when I'd stumbled up to her doorstep in answer to an ad she'd put online. In some ways that was how this all started.

…

Celeste Winterson lived in a gorgeous old Victorian style house at the end of lazy street. I wasn't the first itinerant traveler to show up at her doorstep, but I was the only one at the time. She'd grinned, and invited me in with a cool drink and snack. A single woman in her early sixties, Celeste still had some throw back habits to her hippie days. She ran her boarding house almost like a commune. The price of lodging was almost nothing, so long as you were willing to help out with housework and groceries, keep your room clean, and join her for a "family dinner." That first day she'd kept me awake with friendly chatter, and games of cards, until I was exhausted and the sun had just set. That night I slept through till morning, barely feeling my body clock telling me it was time to wake up on the other side of the world.

I was in a pretty bad state in those days, but I think she realised. It felt so strange to be in a completely different country; especially a country where every voice sounded achingly similar to my father's, where I was supposed to somehow carve out a place for myself. For the first few days I had barely been able to contemplate leaving the house. Instead I hung around with Celeste, cleaning, weeding her seemingly endless vegetable garden, and helping her cook amazing meals that almost seemed wasted on just the two of us.

She gave me my space, let me keep my peace. Instead of asking questions, she told me stories about the roaring 60s. Amazing stories. Some were beautiful, the one about how she'd run away from home at sixteen and hitch-hiked to San Francisco with a bunch of travelling musicians. She spent her first night in the city playing guitar and singing in a park overlooking the bay. There was a crowd and they all stayed up until sunrise. Someone offered her a room in a share house, and suddenly she'd found a home, friends and a community that shared all her dreams and ideals. Telling these stories, her eyes would like up and her hands would stop whatever they were doing to animate her conversation. The years seemed to slip away and I could almost see the young woman she'd been, naïve, sheltered, but full of passion and determination.

Then, other times, her stories took a darker route. She'd look away almost as if she was talking to herself, and I would feel a sense of voyeurism, almost as if I was an intruder walking through her doubts and fears. She talked about how, as the years passed, they'd watched their hopes and dreams crash burn. Relationships broke apart in arguments and power struggles. She'd realised that the people she'd admired, respected and almost worshipped were just as flawed, and petty and damaged as anyone else. There was fire and violence in the streets, matching the war worlds away on foreign soils.

"In the end we all either got caught out, or we sold out, or we burned out." She caught my expression, shocked at this admission of defeat, and grinned, "Aw, don't look so glum!" Then Celeste paused for a moment, holding my eyes. "We, all of us at some point, have to realise that we've become the things we hate, or rather that some part of us always was. It's the only way we can learn."

A silence drew out between us for a while, until in near desperation I had to ask, "Learn what?"

She smiled again, softer this time, "That hate is the most damaging emotion that we can have. Also, I guess, that anytime we find ourselves hating, we usually hate a part of ourselves as well, and that never leads to any good. Eventually, if we're lucky we learn to keep trying. Not to change the world, at least not in some grand anger fuelled gesture, but we keep trying to change ourselves, or rather to live as we want to, in accordance with the things we love, not in spite of the things we hate. It's a difficult lesson that one, I haven't got it down yet," Suddenly her grin return, even brighter than before, "But god be damned if I don't keep trying." She put down her trowel, we'd been weeding a long section of sweet potatoes, she called them yams. "I think it's time for a break, sometimes, out here under the sun I get to far ahead of myself, or whatever. Look Harper I don't want to tell you what to do, or think, you've got to figure that out for yourself. Just let me know if I can help," Again the grin, "Oh and do stop me if I ramble too much. Lemonade?" Before I could say anything else, she'd brushed her hands off on her overalls and headed inside.

After that day she started asking questions. Not intrusively, but just enough to start to draw me out. She asked questions I was willing to answer. Where in Australia was I from? How long was I intending to stay in the States and what did I want to see and do? When I told her that I was technically a citizen because my father had migrated to marry my mum, and that I intended to stay indefinitely, she demanded I keep in touch, especially if I stayed in California.

"Although why you'd want to live anywhere else I don't know." Celeste waved a hand, somehow indicating the whole of San Francisco, "I've had a lifelong love affair with this city. Where are you going to go though, sorry if this is prying, but do you have any plans?"

At least she hadn't asked about my parents, even mentioning them had been difficult, but I think Celeste was intuitive enough to know where not to venture with her questions. Still this one was more than difficult enough, and eventually I had to admit that I had no answer.

"Just coming here, making the big separation, selling everything back home, it was so much to deal with I didn't have space in my head to fit anything else." I looked away sheepishly, "I mean, there are some things I'll send for… if I decide to settle down. There's money in the bank, and, well I don't know, I just had to come here. I had to see the place my… see where half my heritage is. I couldn't stay, but I haven't really got any idea where I'm going either." I couldn't meet her eyes as I admitted the last part. Already in the short time I'd spent under her roof I'd come to admire Celeste, and the total lack of plans suddenly seemed irresponsible. Crazily, I felt almost as if I was disappointing her.

Celeste reached across the table and took a hold of my hand. When I looked up she's grinning at me again, "You're 22 years old Harper, you don't need to know exactly what you're doing. I don't know what brought you here, all the way from Australia, but whatever it is you need your own time to deal with it. I have an idea that you might like, but well it's entirely up to you." She stood up and gestured me towards the garage door. It was like one of those stupid movies, when you see the sheet covered car. There was almost a dramatic pause as Celeste pulled the sheet off of the van. There it was, everything I was looking for inside a green VW Bus. A gas powered stove, a double bed, with storage space underneath, a fridge and a sink with a water storage tank, a home that I could take anywhere I wanted to go.

"After everything went to hell, when I was a little older than you, I lived in this old thing for nearly eighteen months just travelling from place to place. It was during that time that I figured out what to do with my life, and how I came to terms with… well, all of my own demons." She grinned, "If you want it, it's yours. Just make sure you come back and visit."

At first I was too shocked to accept, but eventually I managed to convince her to take $300 dollars for it, and she insist on stocking the van with enough supplies to feed a small army. So I'd spent the next few months travelling up the west coast, taking my time, but always moving. Trying to leave my memories behind.

…

"Fuck! Buggerbugger. Shit!" Desperately trying to will the engine to hold on, I had to make a split decision between what appeared to be a narrow service road, and an equally thin road, leading to what I could only hope was a small parking lot by the beach. Biting my lip and trusting my luck, I swung the van to the left and turned towards the beach. My fingers were crossed on the steering wheel, as the van's engine spluttered its last and then fell silent.

"Comeoncomeoncomeon, please lovely just keep going," I changed into neutral, took my foot off of the brake pedal and tried to use the last of my forward momentum to get the van into the parking lot. But, as luck would have it, the road rose slightly to a crest before rolling down towards the beach.

"Come on, come on, C'MON! UGH!" The van slowed, stopped and began to roll backwards towards the main road.

"Damnit!" I slammed on the brake and wrenched up the handbrake before the van could roll back into the street. "Please, please start!" I turned the key, the van rumbled, but refused to start. I got even less response the second attempt.

"I hate you!" The van neither listened, nor cared. I sighed, feeling rather stupid, opened the door and hopped out. "I know you weigh a tonne, but could you please just try to cooperate?"

Frustrating times call for stupid measures. I should have thought about what I was doing before I did it, but I can be a genius all the time. With one hand on the wheel and my feet on the ground I released the handbrake, stupidly hoping I'd be able to push the van over the crest and into a parking spot. I forgot to take gravity into account. The moment the handbrake came off, the slope, and the weight of the van trying to roll down said slope, knocked me off my feet and onto the ground. I suppose I should have been glad the van didn't roll over me, but I was more dismayed and pissed off at the sight of my van making its merry way into the curb. Now instead of being stopped near the side of the road, the van was bum up against the curb, standing immovable at an angle that entirely blocked the narrow road.

There were only a couple of cars in the parking lot this late in the afternoon, but not one of them would be able to get past my stupid, fucking broken down van. Rather than just being a personal inconvenience, this situation had turned into a giant annoyance to people I didn't even know. I hated situations that drew unwanted attention my way.

I'm ashamed of what I did then. I must have looked like a madwoman, as I stormed over to my now immobile vehicle, waving my hands in the air, raging inarticulately. I'd actually started kicking the bumper bar, when a soft, laughing voice spoke behind me, "You look like you could use some help."

I stopped mid kick, feeling my anger drain away leaving behind a clammy feeling of exertion, and embarrassment. I must have been flushed, because when I put my hands to my face to push my hair behind my ears, it felt ridiculously warm. I tried to put on my best amiable, if somewhat sheepish, grin, and turned to face the voice.

"Sorry, I… I just… Well nothing seems to be going right just this minute." He was tall, very tall, well over six foot. "I really don't want to trap everyone else here all night. I guess I really could use a hand."

He grinned, and I realised there was something incredibly young about his face. Even though he looked to be in his twenties at least, something about his expression seemed too innocent. It almost softened the lines of his high cheek bones and strong jaw. "Just let me get my friend and we'll help you get out of the way."

Before I could say anything else, he turned and jogged towards the beach. He'd only gone a few metres before he yelled, "Hey! Embry! C'mere!" he paused, seemed to listen for a moment, and then jogged back towards me. "With Embry helping, we put this van anywhere you want it." He grinned again, and again I caught a strong impression of youth.

"Thank you, really. I don't know what made try to roll it on my own." I ran another nervous hand through my hair, "Ugh, sorry, I'm Harper, by the way. Are you a local?"

"Born and bred, I'm Seth." He extended a hand and I shook it, glad to notice he had a solid handshake. For some reason I could never get a good impression off of someone who didn't shake hands well. I felt myself smiling, and Seth grinned again, "But don't thank me yet, I haven't done anything, and Embry seems to be taking his sweet time." Again he yelled over his shoulder, "Embry!"

"Settle down pup! I'm coming." Another incredibly tall figure was making his way towards us and the stranded van. "What's the problem?" I'm a tall person myself, but with these two standing next to me I felt incredibly short.

"This is Harper. She has an accent. Her van is broken. We're going to help her roll it into the lot, because we're friendly locals, who are hospitable representatives of our fine community. Also don't call me pup." Seth said all in a breath. Embry raised an eyebrow at me, and then shook his head at Seth.

"Alright puppy." He looked down at me, and like Seth offered a solid handshake. "I'm Embry, don't let this little guy wear you out. Technically the beach and the lot are for day use only, but your van really doesn't look like it's going anywhere far. At least not tonight."

"I'm really sorry." I tend to over apologise when I'm nervous. Plus it seemed bizarre that anyone would call Seth little.

"Nah, it's all good. Like the pup said, hospitality, friendly community blah blah." Embry smiled reassuringly, "Do you want to take the wheel? Seth and I will get it moving."

I sighed with relief, "Thank you, so much."

I took my place at the driver's side door and leaned over the seat to seat. With surprisingly little effort the two guys managed to get the van rolling up the crest. I had to jog to keep up, and as we made it over the rise I jumped into the driver's seat and steered the van into an empty spot at the corner of the lot. Finally parked, and no longer a public nuisance, I took a moment to rest my head on the steering wheel and catch my breath. I hated that I had been helpless, even if only for a moment. I should have been able to handle this. I hated that the van wasn't working, and that I couldn't just drive straight out of here. I was really annoyed at myself, but quickly pushed this little storm of guilt and frustration away, before climbing out of the van once again. I had to thank my rescuers.

Seth and Embry, friendly locals, and good Samaritans. They grinned at me as I tried to thank them again, and brushed away my apologies.

"Don't worry about it," Seth said, "It's not like it was that difficult."

"At least let me offer you a drink or something." I said, and before they could answer, I opened the van's sliding door, and reached into the small cooler/fridge. I only had juice, but they seemed happy to accept, and for a moment we all stood around in mildly awkward silence. Out across the ocean, the sun was beginning to slip below the horizon.

"So, whereabouts are you from?" Embry asked, "We don't usually get many international tourists here, they tend not to stray too from Seattle, or the National Parks."

"Queensland, in Australia," I said, "But I'm not exactly a tourist. Not really… it's kind of a long story." I let my tone convey just enough tiredness to dissuade further questions. "Hey, would either of you know of a mechanic around here who could get me up and running again? I really don't like staying in one place to long… Not that this isn't a friendly and hospitable town."

They both grinned. "Our friend Jake builds cars, he's good with VWs. I'm sure he could get you up and running." Seth said enthusiastically. "I'll see if I can bring him by here tomorrow."

"Wow, you really do take the hospitality thing seriously huh."

Embry laughed, "Well Seth more so than most, but that's just 'cause he's so adorable! Aren't you puppy?"

Seth glared and seemed about to retort, but just then the wind seemed pick up, and I felt the temperature drop. From the woods there came the faint sound of a wolf howling. The boys exchanged glances and fell silent. I suddenly felt their urge to leave.

"Look, I'll be fine for tonight, and I really am grateful for your help but I'm sure you've both got things you need to do. I really can't take any more of your time."

Embry smiled and nodded, but Seth looked conflicted for a moment. "Are you sure you're alright here, it gets pretty cold this time of year. My mom's house is just a block that way…"

I stopped him before he could finish, "I've got everything I need here, and I've had colder nights. I'll be fine. Thanks again both of you. Goodnight Seth, Embry."

Embry grabbed Seth's shoulder and nodded his goodnight.

"Goodnight! Nice to meet you Harper! See you!" Seth called out as Embry dragged him away into the gather dusk.

Relieved to be alone, I leant against door, and stared out to sea. As the last rays of the sun slipped away, I took a deep breath and steeled myself for another night. If I was lucky I would be able to keep my thoughts and memories far enough away.