A/N: So this fic is rated M – I apologise to all my readers who cannot read it but wanted to! This story takes place within the Supernatural timeline, meaning the Twilight timeline has been moved back by about seven years. It doesn't make any difference to the plot though; only dates :]

Oh, and if you were wondering, the story title (among other things) came from the song by Feeder called Feeling a Moment; the reason for my prologue's title. It all fits rather well, if I do say so myself :D Also, check out the CtN website! Enjoy and don't forget to review!

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or Twilight, though I really wish a few select characters were in my possession…

Prologue: Feeling a Moment

March 4th 1999

Time was not something to gamble with. It flitted by without a single doubt that you wouldn't follow; it was conceited in its nature – its pride always swelling when any phrase mentioning time was spoken.

"Let it heal with time."

"Just give it some time."

"You'll forget it in time."

The aspect of time was so fundamentally confusing that only scientists dared to try and understand it. But some cherished it in every breath they took; sure to live happy with how much time they had received to live for. Others simply watched it pass without actually realising how little they could have left.

And as Bella Swan stood there, staring into the cold, red eyes of Laurent, she couldn't help but grieve over how she fell into the last category. When was the last time she merely sat down to relish in her health or the love and support that was at her aid?

Renée often told her how much she adored her, despite the differences between them. While Charlie was awkward with emotions, it never stopped him from showing how much he cared for her and how he was glad she chose to spend time with him.

Precious, precious time.

But how much did she have left of that now? Ten minutes, perhaps, if she overestimated the dread-locked vampire's thirst.

Panic settled in her when he stepped forth, closing the distance between them much more quickly than she would have liked. She wanted to laugh at her assumption of ten minutes, as well as at the hope she had held that she wasn't actually overestimating his thirst at all.

It had all been rather silly, she realized, as he leant forth to take a bite. She had only seconds left. And who was here to say goodbye to? No one.

Her loved ones did not surround her, like she would have wished to happen at her deathbed. In fact, she had barely seen Charlie this morning – and Renée hadn't called in a while.

The young Jacob Black formed in her head. Oh, how she had been healing with his help. Yet tomorrow he would wake up to hear news of her death, or even her 'disappearance'. He would be hurt and angered, but most of all confused.

"Mouth-watering," Laurent purred, her scent blown toward him by the wind.

He inched closer still and his teeth were revealed from behind dark lips. She clenched her eyes tight, and for the first time in her short life; Bella prayed to her Father.

The sound of wings fluttering behind them made Laurent pause mid-step. She heard him gasp in surprise, but only when a deep, soothing voice spoke did she open her brown orbs in wary curiosity.

"Leave the girl."

Before she had the chance to turn round, Laurent backed away from her fearfully, his mouth gaping open in horror.

"No," he breathed, eyes wide. "It isn't possible."

"You know what I am, and you know that this is possible. So I will repeat once more: Leave the girl."

She felt herself relaxing with every word this stranger said and, determined to see her saviour, moved her head to look. But suddenly Laurent was running – so fast that he became a blur to her human eyes. Now she whirled around, stopping in surprise when the angelic face stared into what seemed like her very soul.

He was beautiful: Big, depthless brown eyes and messy black hair, all spiked up. His caramel skin was covered only barely in jean cut-off shorts, his chest on show.

"Who are you?" she asked him, breathless with awe. He was Quileute, she knew this, and could remember Jacob telling her he hung out with Sam Uley (the guy he'd stopped talking to her over), but she had never met him before.

His deep eyes squinted in thought as he glanced toward the forest. She bit her lip when he looked back at her.

"My name is not important," he said, almost monotonously, though not without feeling.

"But why did…?" she trailed off, unsure as she pointed to where Laurent had escaped.

"Do not worry," he instructed, "I will not let him get away."

"You're only human," she laughed bitterly. "What can you do to stop him?"

"I shall incinerate him."

She couldn't help it; she stared in shock. He didn't wait for her to gather her bearings, however, and instead nodded faintly.

"A pleasure, Isabella Swan," were his last cryptic words.

And then, amidst the same fluttering of wings noise, he disappeared, leaving behind him a very confused and shocked eighteen-year old.