CHAPTER ONE: FORKS

"IN CASE I DON'T WAKE UP TOMORROW, YOU CAN HAVE MY COCOA PUFFS."

Charlie Swan shook his head at his eldest daughter, a fond smile on his lips, looking her over. She'd gained a little more weight, not much, but enough for him to notice. Thankfully. Her treatments made her far too skinny and seemed to suck the life right out of her.

Not that it mattered, she'd be dead in a year anyway.

"I'll stick with my Raisin Bran," Charlie said gruffly, taking her bags to her old bedroom as she trailed along behind him. "And I think Bells only eats cornflakes so—"

"—Hang on, she does what?"

Charlie stopped, turning to look at her, huffing out a laugh at the sheer disbelief written on her face.

"She doesn't like that sugary stuff you do. She think it's too sweet."

Elise shook her head, eyes wide. "We are totally half-siblings because there is no way I'm fully related to someone who's favorite breakfast cereal is cornflakes."

Charlie placed her luggage on the bed, resting his hands on his hips and looking back at her. "Unfortunately, that's the truth. You're blood related to us, but just know if you were adopted, I'd have returned you."

Elise burst into laughter, swatting her father's chest. "What, with a receipt? Is that how adoptions work?"

Charlie shrugged. "Pretty sure. I wouldn't know though, didn't have the option with you."

"Wow," Elise dragged out the word. "Dad, I'm actually offended right now. You're not being written into my will."

Charlie raised an eyebrow. "I'm truly regretting my actions now."

"Get out," Elise shoved him through the door lightly, the laughter still in her eyes. "You suck."

Charlie smiled down at her, leaning against the doorframe, but it faltered a moment later. He knew her nonchalant attitude was better than the alternative. She'd spent the first three weeks of her final diagnosis crying in bed, immovable.

Then one day, she was up and smiling and joking about her life coming to an end.

It gave Charlie whiplash but he knew his daughter. He liked to think he knew her better than anyone.

Elise Swan needed to laugh about dying. She needed to make jokes about her inevitable demise because it made the situation far less scary.

For her, at least.

Charlie wasn't sure how he'd manage when she died. He didn't think he'd fully wrapped his mind around the news yet. But he'd play along with her, joke right back, because she needed him to. She needed him to be strong and put on a smile and pretend he was okay.

He could mourn her after she was gone.

He wasn't going to waste their final months together on tears or arguments or anger. He'd push away his own grief in semblance of keeping her sanity, so she could go out on her own terms.

"When's Bella coming home?" Elise asked after a moment, before breaking into a coughing fit.

Charlie closed the few steps of distance between them and pat her back gently, a pitiful smile on his face.

"Her flight lands in a few hours, we can go pick her up then."

"Thank fucking god," Elise choked out, grabbing her water bottle and taking a swig. "I miss her."

Charlie's lips pulled up at the thought of his other daughter. While Elise grew up in Charlie's care, her mother having died when Elise was ten, Bella lived with her mother.

And now, after nearly five years without his youngest daughter, she'd be returning to Forks and living with the pair of them.

Elise ran a hand through her hair, grabbing her dad's attention from his thoughts.

"I'm going to unpack a bit, can you pretty please run to the diner and get me—"

"—A double bacon cheeseburger, extra pickles, hold the onions, side of fries and a strawberry milkshake?" At Elise's grin, he snorted, waving a hand. "Say less, be back in a bit. Don't burn the house down."

"Easier said than done," Elise shrugged as Charlie walked back to the front door. "There's that painting on the wall in the hallway that I know is haunted so if it comes after me, I'm striking a match."

Charlie guffawed as he left the house, leaving his daughter alone in her childhood home.

Elise glanced around as the front door shut, taking in her childhood bedroom.

Pale blue walls greeted her first, taking her back to painting them with her dad, after he first purchased the home. She was three when Charlie Swan met Renee Higginbotham, and they married and had a daughter in under a year. They bought this home together, painted the fence together, picked out furniture together.

Elise's mom lived in Massachusetts before her death and while she loved Charlie, her mother was fighting dementia and Clara Abernathy gave full custody to Charlie.

Not that it negated Elise's love for her mother. She loved her dearly and when she perished in a fatal car accident three weeks after Elise's tenth birthday, Elise mourned dearly for the loss.

But she'd always been closer to her father. And so when he met Renee and had Isabella — Bella, god forbid anyone call her by her full name — Elise helped pick out furniture and paint her bedroom walls and collected stuffed animals by the masses. She played dolls with Renee until Bella was born and was the third person to hold her sister in the hospital.

But Renee left not long after. She couldn't be stuck in Forks, the small town atmosphere drove her mad and she dropped off divorce papers and took Bella with her.

And while Bella frequented visits over the summers during the adolescent years of their lives, most days it was just Charlie and Elise. And that was okay for them.

Elise liked to think of them as two peas in a pod. Her dad was only eighteen when he had her and with the hands she'd been dealt and the life he'd led, they could truly only depend on one another.

Her eyes drifted to the rainbow flag above her bed. She'd hung it up in protest of the small town beliefs Forks held, it's conservative views on sexuality.

Elise remembered coming out to her father, placing the bisexual label upon herself, admitting she was attracted to both genders.

Charlie blinked, stared at the floor for a few minutes, looked up at her, shrugged and said: "does this mean you'll watch more football games with me? I heard lesbians do that."

It was the thought that counted.

On the wall across from the window outside stood a large bookshelf overstuffed with fantasy novels, science fiction books, poetry, and psychology textbooks.

Elise always wanted to be a psychologist. Or a therapist. Something to help people — but without the blood of a doctor or surgeon.

It's where she'd been the last three years, before the diagnosis. She was in Seattle, working hard and studying her ass off. It wasn't until she fainted during a lecture that an ambulance was called and she was given the news that changed her entire life prerogative.

Elise's eyes caught the unicorn stuffed animal on the bed and she grabbed it, looking down at it with a fond smile. Her dad's first gift to her was the small unicorn plushie, about the size of her forearm, and then it became a running gag. Despite how much Elise really didn't care for unicorns, he purchased one every year for her birthday and she'd amassed over a dozen in all shapes and sizes.

Aside from the first one on her bed, the rest sat in the corner of the room. They were in jail for being awful gifts until the end of time.

A faded pink comforter and pillows, white metal headboard, a thick black dresser and matching nightstand took up the remaining space. The room was originally an office, seeing as Renee and Charlie bought the two bedroom home with intentions of Bella and Elise sharing a room as they grew.

At first, the office-turned-bedroom was temporary for Elise. The second bedroom, Bella's bedroom, was originally designed as a nursery to keep the infant near Renee and Charlie, while Elise was on the first floor in an office. (Not that she minded — she often snuck into the kitchens as a kid for extra snacks.)

After Renee left, Charlie couldn't bring himself to turn the nursery into another room, and instead, they renovated the office completely into Elise's bedroom, and locked Bella's room tightly unless she visited.

Elise opened her suitcase up, having donated the majority of her belongings — she wouldn't exactly have a need for them in a few months — and unpacked her clothes and essentials, setting aside small pictures she'd taken with her from her dorm.

Her phone buzzed and Elise reached down, picking it up and flicking it open.

"Your mom speaking how can I never help you."

"You have to stop answering the phone like that," Bella's voice sounded with an exasperated sigh. "It's so stupid."

"Says the one who used to call butterscotch 'buttercrotch'."

"I hate you," Bella said through a laugh. "My plane's taking off in a few, should land in about three hours."

Elise nodded to herself, tucking the phone between her shoulder and ear, hanging up a few shirts. "Sounds good. Don't crash the plane by extension of your clumsiness, please."

"Funny," Bella responded dryly. "Your humor is truly impeccable."

"I know," Elise laughed. "You should take a card from my deck, you're severely lacking in that aspect."

"Your wit never ceases to amaze me."

"Someone has to be funny in this family, god knows you suck at it and Dad's only funny when he's three drinks in on Sunday night footballs with Billy."

Bella laughed. "Speaking of," her voice grew quieter, less sure. "Do you think Charlie will be okay with me staying? Mom kind of sprung it on him and I hope it's not causing any issues."

Elise stopped, her face softening. "Bell, Dad's been talking about you coming for weeks now. He hasn't shut up about it. We miss you and we're excited for you to come home." She paused, then added. "I wish you wouldn't call him that," Elise frowned. "He's our dad."

Bella was quiet for a moment. "He's your dad, El. He's my father. I've always been closer to my mom, you know that."

Elise didn't point out the fact that Bella wasn't allowed to visit often growing up because Renee preferred control over her child's happiness, but instead responded with:

"Fair enough. How're you feeling about transferring schools? I know you weren't looking forward to it before."

Bella sighed. "I'm...I hate being the new kid. Especially in Forks. I knew some people growing up there, but not really well enough for them to remember me, not like you, anyways. And it's so small and what if the curriculum is different? What if I fall behind or something?"

Elise zipped up her now empty suitcase and stuffed it under her bed, moving to the pictures on her bed she'd taken out of it. She placed a couple on her nightstand and moved to her dresser, setting them gently on it as well.

"Belly, you're fucking smart, okay?" Elise said firmly. "Don't worry about your grades, you'll be fine. As for the small-town not knowing anyone aspect? I'll literally kill somebody if they say anything to you, okay?" At Bella's laugh, Elise smiled, adding. "Dad's the sherif and I have cancer, so, I could definitely get away with murder."

"Shut up," Bella replied in amusement. "Thanks, though. I wish you were still in school so we could go together."

"I don't," Elise snorted. "I hated high school. Remember how I had braces until senior year? God, my senior pictures were awful. And I was in band like a dweeb."

Bella laughed again. "You were cute in a dorky way. You've always been cute, El. Hey, how're things with Alec?"

Elise tensed, pushing back the fear that erupted in her stomach at the man's name. "Oh, we broke up," she replied easily, trying to quell her thunderous heartbeat. "He couldn't dig the whole cancer thing."

"I'm not surprised, he wasn't good enough for you."

Elise swallowed back tears that threatened her eyes, pulling the phone away and taking a breath. "Hey, Dad's here, we're gonna head to the airport. See you in a few hours."

"No worries, plane's boarding anyway. See you soon. Love you idiot."

"You too dummy."

Elise snapped her phone shut and placed it on the dresser, curling her hands over the top of it. She tried to take deep breaths, to calm her shaky hands and quickening breath. It wasn't good for her to lose her breath, once it was gone she couldn't exactly bring it back without passing out.

Note to self: anxiety and lung cancer are not a great mix.

Elise took another breath and then proceeded to exhale all oxygen from her lungs in a horrible coughing fit from hell, leaning over the dresser to catch her breath.

"Christ," she finished, wiping her mouth, blinking back the spots in her vision and waking from the bedroom to the main area of the house.

Scanning the fireplace, the framed pictures of her father and Renee's wedding, childhood photos of her (and Bella); her toothless smile at five, her first time on a bicycle at seven, her school pictures from every year lined up neatly.

Her heart tugged as she walked closer, looking over one of she and her dad at graduation. Bella hadn't come, she'd had finals that week, but they spent all night on the phone together talking about Elise's life plans.

Charlie was so proud of her graduating. She was Valedictorian, head of Speech and Debate, Softball Team Captain, and even did the odd musical theater production.

Countless sleepless nights were spent curled over a textbook, analyzing and highlighting and notating different sections for the best outcome. Weeks out of her summer were spent at softball camp and her weekends slated with theatre in Port Angeles.

Tears welled in Elise's eyes. She was so alive back then. She didn't miss her gawky height or lanky arms or braces, but she missed the idea of a future.

Elise had always been a planner. She'd gone through countless binders of meticulously detailed notes with to-do lists and plans for the week and scheduled meals (because she'd often forget to eat if she was too in her own head) and she preferred it that way.

The knowing what came next.

And now, staring at the picture of herself only three years prior, a bright grin on her face, next to her teary-eyed father, Elise realized she had no plan. No life purpose. No journey.

She'd completed high school and three years of university — for what?

To die anyway?

She'd been top of the class and an active participant of the community to just...wind up dead in a year's time?

Elise forced herself to look away. She promised herself she wouldn't dwell on the existential thoughts. She wanted to enjoy the remaining eleven months of her life. She wanted to be happy without the lingering, sinking, god-awful ache that threatened to tear her apart from the inside out.

She was absolutely not going to think about death in a serious fashion. She was going to continue making jokes and pretending it wasn't happening because if she broke down, she'd never get back up and Elise wasn't the type of person to stay on the ground and wallow.

Elise would die in eleven months and it would be totally, completely, absolutely fine.

Everything was fine.