I'll be home for Christmas

Chapter 23

Chapter 23 - I'll be home for Christmas

Disclaimer: the characters and all recognisable situations belong to Stephenie Meyer - this is a work of fan fiction, except for the legends and histories of the Quileute that, of course, belong to them. I pay my respects to their gods.

Thanks to BanSidhe [ruadh sidhe] and Feebes86 for betaing and pre-reading.

[AN: someone made a comment about the word Christmas being in the title. The original one shot was written for a Christmas writing competition but didn't qualify. The title is a Christmas song and it wasn't until chapters later when I had made Josh and Bella's dreams important that I realized the next line of the song is: 'if only in my dreams'. Weird, huh?]

"You? Why would we trust you?" someone asked Josh.

"This guy is a loser - why would we believe him?" one person asked.

"How do we know that he is what he says he is?" another person asked.

There was a lot of muttering and whispered words.

"How many have come back?"

"Josh came back."

"He helped me last night."

"He's one we are not even sure we want."

Bella thought about what Josh had said that she was the only person who saw him the way she did. His old history had tarred him.

"How can he prove himself?" Old Quil asked.

Jake walked over and picked up the duffel bag he had given Josh earlier. He handed it to Old Quil. "Josh asked Bells to get this from Seattle for him. It has been in my home overnight, he has not touched it." He looked out at the audience. "Do you trust me?"

Heads nodded.

Josh and Bella still stood out the front.

"Are you okay with this?" she asked him. "They can't go through your things."

"I have nothing to hide."

Old Quil unzipped it and started to go through it. He pulled out a bunch of sage tied with jute twine.

"Bunch of sage, yeah right. We all know about sage and cedar," someone said.

Next, the old man produced an abalone shell.

"Humph they sell those things in the shops."

When he pulled out the wing of feathers; the smudger, there was silence. By the time he pulled out the drum and the rest of the stuff the old man's hands were shaking a little. All the items he had taken from the bag were the tools of a shaman.

"Last night," Old Quil said, "I opened my door to find a black wolf sitting there. It was Josh. We spoke. I thanked the gods, for sending a replacement for me."

"What? Dude," Quil said. "You're not dying?"

"How would you know?" He asked it more as an actual query of Quil's abilities than as a question. "You show no interest and no aptitude in what I do, grandson."

"No," said Quil honestly. "And I've tried - you know I've tried. I just can't do it."

"I blame myself; I did not see Josh before when he needed my guidance. I was so sure my son would be my heir I didn't see what was in front of me. I fear that Josh trod some bad paths trying to deal with things without that guidance."

Old Quil turned to Josh and Bella. "Josh, if I may ask Bella some questions so that others can understand. Do you allow her to answer for you?"

"I have known her for days, but yes. I trust her."