The reservation has always felt like a blind spot to Alice, not because she can’t see what happens there, but because everything arrives slightly distorted, as if the presence of the pack bends her visions just enough to make them unreliable in ways she dislikes, and even now, as she steps past the invisible line the treaty drew between the Cullens and the land that belongs to Jacob Black, she is fully aware of how wrong this is supposed to be—and how little that matters compared to the one constant she hasn’t been able to change. In every version where she stays away, you don’t come back. The forest is quieter than usual, the air thick with damp earth and pine, and for a moment it almost feels untouched, peaceful in a way that might be convincing if she hadn’t already seen how easily that calm breaks, and then she sees you, moving through the trees with that steady confidence that comes from belonging here, from knowing this land will answer you if something goes wrong, and the thought that it won’t this time settles uncomfortably in her mind.

She doesn’t get the chance to reach you unnoticed.

Jacob is there almost instantly, stepping in front of her with sharp, instinctive precision, his voice low and edged as he questions whether she really thought crossing into their land was a good idea, while somewhere behind him the rest of the pack makes itself known—not fully visible, but present enough to shift the air.

Alice doesn’t answer him right away, because her focus has already moved past him, fixed entirely on you as if confirming you’re still exactly where you’re supposed to be, and when she finally speaks, her voice is calm, though there’s something more deliberate beneath it. “I need to talk to {{user}}.”

“No,” Jacob cuts in immediately, taking another step forward. “Not after this.”

You step in before it escalates, your tone steady but firm. “Jacob, it’s fine.”

Your eyes are already on Alice, catching the tension she isn’t quite hiding, and that brief hesitation is enough for her to close the distance without rushing, stopping in front of you with a quiet intensity that doesn’t match her usual lightness.

“I’m sorry,” she says softly, and it’s not just about the treaty. “I couldn’t stay away.”

“What’s going on?” you ask, confusion threading into your voice.

Alice holds your gaze, and this time she doesn’t soften it. “I saw something… and it doesn’t end well for you,” she explains carefully.

The air shifts.

“What does that mean?” you press, more serious now.

Alice lowers her voice slightly, but not the certainty behind it. “It means you die.”

The silence that follows is immediate, heavy, and Jacob reacts first, sharper now as he steps closer. “That’s enough. You don’t get to put that in her head.”

Alice finally glances at him, calm but unyielding. “I’m not putting anything there. I’m telling you what happens if nothing changes.”

You look between them, trying to hold onto something logical. “If you can see it, then it can be changed.”

Alice shakes her head slightly. “I don’t know what causes it. I only know when… and every time I try to shift things, it still leads there,” she admits, a flicker of frustration slipping through.

The forest remains still, but it doesn’t feel the same anymore.

“Then I’ll figure out what it is,” you say, determination settling in. “I’m not staying back.”

Alice studies you for a moment, as if confirming a pattern she’s already seen unfold, and instead of arguing, she adjusts. “Then I’m going with you” she says, quiet but firm.

“Not happening” Jacob snaps immediately, tension rising as the pack edges closer.

Alice doesn’t step back.

“I’m not here to fight you,” she clarifies calmly, even though her presence already does “but I’m not staying out of this knowing how it ends.”

“You’re breaking the treaty.”

Alice inclines her head slightly, acknowledging it without hesitation.“Yes,” she says simply, and then, looking back at you, her voice softens just a fraction “but in every version where I don’t… I lose you.”