Songs from Different Times Part 3
Type: Fanfiction
World: Twilight
Status: multi chapter
Title: Songs from Different Times
Rating: M
Genre: Angst, Drama
Pairing: Jacob & Bella
Warnings: language, angst, sexual situations, character death, post-BD
Summary: Thirty years into the future, and the world has stopped turning for Jacob Black. Caught between the strings of his imprint, long forfeited dreams and the hope that somewhere deep inside that girl with the golden eyes, his Bells is still waiting for him, he has to make a choice much graver than any other.
Notes: There are plenty of people who deserve a big hug and millions of thank you's for pre-reading this story and giving me feedback, helping me to get this story going and turn it from a weird idea that would not leave my mind to a finsihed story. So, lezah_hctiw lsjcandy , runningsissors , lizdesmond, dredhedred, and evaa_3 , thank you all so very much for all the help and support.
made by sarahtomas
part 1
S o n g s f r o m D i f f e r e n t T i m e s
Part 3
not ready to let go / cause then I'd never know / what I could be missing
jason walker - down
It did not take Jacob as long to get back as it had taken him to get away. Much too soon he started to sense an odd feeling of familiarity, felt the pull that kept him running, slowly getting weaker as he got closer.
The sun was rising again and with every step he took, Jacob started to become more aware of himself and everything rushing past him. He started to feel the unpleasant way his tongue was sticking to his dry palate, the painful, hollow ache in his stomach, the burning of his muscles.
The closer he got, the colder everything seemed to become. And then, ever so slowly, Jacob started to become aware of the sickening sweet scent that caused his instincts to raise an alarm. This foolproof sign for danger was rooted deep inside of him. Only now that he had been absent for a few days did Jacob realize how god awful this smell was, how it burned inside his nose, causing his stomach to clench uncomfortably. It was disgusting.
Suddenly, between the rustling of trees, the birds singing and the wind rushing past his ears, Jacob could hear familiar, crystal clear voices in the distance, all mingled together which made it difficult for him to decipher any meaning behind the words.
But one thing was sure; they knew he was coming back. If he was able to smell them, they must have picked up his scent by now, as well. Jacob tried not to listen too closely, trying not to let whatever words were spoken come too close to him.
His steps slowed down to a steady walk as he reached the border of the forest, eyeing slivers of the old brick house in the meadow, mostly hidden behind the trees. Their voices had turned silent, and Jacob was sure that Edward had ordered that, reading the resentment in his thoughts.
Jacob realized that he was standing at the exact same place of the forest line, through which he had escaped a few days ago. He had been following his own steps back. A pair of neatly folded jeans lay on the grass, oddly out of place.
Holding the piece of fabric between his teeth - he had always hated the taste of denim in his mouth - Jacob retreated a few steps back into the forest, knowing that the trees would not actually provide him with much privacy, but keeping up the charade nonetheless.
It had been many years since Jacob had last spent multiple days in a row as a wolf, and the longer he did, the harder it was to phase back. He had never found the right words to describe phasing, but it was not a conscious decision, not like a switch he could turn on and off. It was instinctive, and the fact that he had it mostly under control after all these years made it less savage, however, never a conscious decision, either. There was no specific movement he had to make, no certain thought to think, no order to give. It just had to happen.
The problem was that Jacob did not really want it to happen. He needed to find a way to force the wolf out of him, something that went completely against his nature.
But, before he could start fighting a part of himself he felt needed to be controlled, something else made the decision for him.
A weak whimper from inside the house stabbed every single nerve in his body, causing him to tremble. Please. And before Jacob knew what was happening, he was standing on two feet again, smaller, shorter, naked, sweaty.
He knew they were holding her back, she would have been here minutes ago. And although he was grateful for the tiny bit of privacy, he could not help but clench his fists to keep the anger under control that started to boil hotly inside of him at the mere thought of someone holding Renesmee back, stopping her from running outside.
To suddenly be standing on just two feet was strangely unsteady, yet familiar. Like a faint memory. Jacob's legs were trembling while trying to keep him standing straight.
He quickly stepped into the jeans, realizing immediately that it was a brand new pair - he hated the feeling of new jeans, when they were cold, unworn, rigid, feeling like a foreign object. With trembling fingers he zipped up the pants, not bothering with the useless button.
Taking a deep breath through his mouth, the sticky scent still too fresh to be endured, Jacob started walking carefully towards the end of the tree line, not as sure on his feet as he was in his wolf form. As more and more of the house came into view, Jacob recognized the small woman bursting down the stairs, running across the damp lawn towards him. He felt the strings inside of him pull him further and quicker towards her, strings that she had attached to his heart the moment she was born.
The tidal wave of guilt that crashed over Jacob as Renesmee jumped at him, arms clinging to his shoulders, legs wrapped around his middle, face buried in the crook of his neck, was indescribable. He knew it was not guilt he should feel, yet he did.
Jacob could feel his arms wrap weakly around Renesmee's trembling body, sobs ripping through her as tears pearled against the warm skin of Jacob's neck.
"What is going on, Jacob? Leah wouldn't say anything and I was so confused and they wouldn't let me run after you, and please just tell me what is wrong and we can talk about it or make it better and if I did something wrong than you have to tell me because I could never forgive myself if I hurt you, so please, please, Jacob. Talk to me. Did I do anything?" Renesmee murmured frantically against his neck, clinging to him as if she was afraid he would make a run for it again.
Jacob could never lie to her. Never would his lips be able to form any words that did her any harm. The only corner he had left to sneak into was that of withholding information.
"No, Nessie. You didn't do anything wrong," he whispered reassuringly into her ear, kissing her cheek, feeling her calm down in his arms. She indeed had not done anything wrong. He could not blame her, which made it even harder for him to accept his dependent attachment to her. She was in no way the villain in his story. Not the slightest clue about the power she had over him would ever come into her mind.
"I was so worried. I thought you weren't going to come back," Renesmee cried, moving her head back just enough to be able to look Jacob into the eye.
"Shhh, I'm here now," he whispered, his lips pulling apart to form something that must appear to be a comforting smile to her. Renesmee nodded, before untangling herself from him, keeping her right hand on his shoulder as she turned around the face the house, wiping a stray tear from her glistering cheek.
Only now did Jacob allow his eyes to focus on the front porch of the old house. The scenery was too perfect to be real, there was too much breathtaking, agonizing beauty. It was terrifying, as if he was looking at a painting in a museum.
Rosalie stood directly by the door as if she had been dragged outside against her will, wearing a blue jumpsuit (she had been working on the many cars in the garage more and more after Renesmee had grown out of rompers and pink dresses), holding a hand against Emmett's arm (who seemed to be less and less quick witted these days). Carlisle had his arms wrapped around Esme, Alice sat on the stone balustrade, her short legs dangling off the edge. Jasper stood behind her and Emmett, almost hidden, as if he were shielding himself from something. Leah stood away from all them, arms crossed in front of her chest. Jacob's eyes lingered on all of them a second longer than necessary, but eventually, he dared to face Bella and Edward. Much to his surprise, she stood a foot apart from him, not appearing to take any notice.
Instinctively, Jacob knew that something was wrong, that there was a flaw in the picture. It took the sight of Bella capturing her bloodless bottom lip between her sharp teeth for him to realize what he had been missing.
The look on all their faces.
Fear.
This was not quite the reaction Jacob had expected. What were they afraid of? That he was going on a rampage? Freak out? Lose his mind entirely? Attack them? A suicide commando?
It was a hesitant, creeping kind of fear that shone in their eyes. There was more to this gathering than merely his return. Had he honestly expected a warm welcome from Rosalie? Maybe Alice was hiding party hats somewhere - she would probably find a reason to celebrate the outbreak of World War III. Had Jasper ever showed any kind of affection towards him, or pretty much anyone for that matter, except Alice?
No, Jacob had not really expected them to welcome him back in any special kind of way. Awkward silence, maybe questions. He had counted on coming back and living on just like he had before, fitting himself back into their perfect little puzzle.
"What's going on?" he asked Renesmee, although he knew that everyone else could hear just as clearly.
Renesmee's face look strangely crooked, as if there were words lingering on her tongue and she was not capable of speaking them out loud (Jacob wondered if he looked the same), and suddenly, Jacob recognized a hint of the same fear in her eyes that was reflecting from the front porch.
"Jacob?"
This had been the last voice he had expected to speak to him. Bella sounded meek, her eyes trying hard to avoid meeting Jacob's directly.
"What?" he asked, not intending to sound as harsh as he had. But if they were not going to tell him what was going on soon, he was sure he had every right to be pissed.
Bella swallowed and Jacob felt nauseous as he saw her throat rise and fall quickly. It was all so unnecessary, so artificial.
"Maybe we should… go and… talk," she said quietly, kneading her hands. She must feel immensely uncomfortable if she started to fall back into old behaviour patterns that did not come naturally to her any longer.
"Why?" Jacob asked harshly again. It felt as if they were dancing on hot coals, trying to avoid the inevitable sting of heat.
"There's something…you should know. But, I don't think you want to talk about this right here. We could walk a little bit."
Edward pulled his right hand out of his pocket, resting it on Bella's shoulder, while she just stared ahead, trying hard not to look too deep. What was this game they were playing?
"Why can't you just tell me now?"
He felt Renesmee's hand grip his shoulder a bit harder, brushing her thumb an inch against his collarbone, looking at him pleadingly.
"Go with Mom, Jacob. It's better that way, believe me," she said, smiling at him with a twisted mixture of fear and sadness.
He hated it when she called her Mom. Looking at the two of them, everyone would think they were sisters, the exact same age, neither of them more mature than the other. Looking at them as mother and daughter was such an abstract concept, that Jacob usually tried to block it out.
Looking back at Bella, Jacob nodded surely. As if that had been the command everyone had been waiting for, the others started to move back inside, Leah throwing a sad glance in Jacob's direction.
Edward kissed Bella's cheek, eliciting no response from her, before he too, walked back inside the old house.
"I'll see you later," Renesmee said quietly, kissing Jacob's cheek before dancing across the lawn and up the stone stairs, disappearing into the house with a last distressed glance at her mother.
Jacob stood on the damp lawn, not looking at Bella but focussing on the red brick wall behind her. It reminded him strangely of how her eyes had once been, only for a short while but devious and unbearable to look at nonetheless. Except for the rise and fall of his chest with every breath he took, Jacob did not move an inch, waiting for Bella to take the first step this time.
The world seemed even more twisted than usual, and as Bella walked down the stairs, her bare feet made almost no noise, even to his excellent ears. She kept her pace human, slow, crossing the wide lawn and walking towards a different part of the forest than the one Jacob had emerged from a few minutes ago.
No words were spoken, silence wrapping them up. Bella had already reached the line of trees when Jacob started following her, not rushing, not minding the gap between them.
Bella was wearing a pair of old, well-worn jeans, a white blouse, her long mahogany hair cascading down her back. As she stepped gracefully between the trees, she looked ethereal, like a beauty from an ancient time.
There seemed to be no rush, both of them taking small, deliberate steps, Bella leading him deep into the forest without saying a word. He did not even hear her take a useless breath.
"So, why exactly are we here?" Jacob finally asked, breaking the numb silence between them.
His words seemed to float past Bella, not leaving any impact on her. She merely continued her small, slow steps, keeping her head straight, her hair gently waving with every move.
"Bella?"
"Let's just walk a bit more," she said quietly, stretching out her hand to brush it along the bark of a tree.
Jacob suddenly felt the weight of his journey crushing down on him. His empty stomach, the thirst, his eyelids heavily fluttering in front of his eyes. Still, he kept walking. It seemed to be his destiny, his assignment in life. Keep going. No matter what.
When they reached a small creek, Bella suddenly stopped walking with no sign of slowness - she just stopped in her tracks. She waited for Jacob to walk up next to her, not moving an inch. He could see from his peripheral vision, that she was biting her lower lip again, nibbling with teeth that killed deer on a regular basis.
Jacob drew his eyes away from her, kneeling down onto the muddy ground, sinking his hands into the ice cold, crystal clear stream of the creek. Using his hands as a cup, he lowered his head, taking a big gulp of the icy water, feeling it run down his throat, cooling him, sating his thirsts, wetting his tongue so he could breathe more easily.
"You're hungry," Bella stated, not asking, not really looking at Jacob. He just shrugged, taking another gulp before drying his hands on his new jeans, standing up again.
Something caught his eye then that made his stomach clench painfully, the cold water filling his stomach threatening to come back up his throat again. An old, dead, thick branch lay right by the creek. Images of a sandy beach played behind Jacob's eyes like an unwanted movie, images of bonfires and a driftwood log that had meant so much more.
He moved without really wanting to, the sudden flood of memories sickening him, yet, he could not help himself. Crossing the small creek with one big step, he ran his hands over the mossy old branch before sitting down on it.
For one small second, the feeling of the old wood and the sound of the water running past cast him back into his swirl of memories, into a past he both wanted to forget and cherish.
"Rachel called," Bella suddenly said carefully, still staring ahead. Jacob felt a shallow ache in his chest as the images in his head slowly blurred and slipped through his fingers.
"Who?" he asked confused, not having expected Bella to say anything anytime soon.
His question seemed to wake Bella up from whatever self-protective slumber she had been in, and she looked at him with pure sadness in her golden eyes. Slowly, so much slower than she was capable of, she crossed the creek as well, kneeling down next to Jacob.
He flinched a little when she rested one of her cold, pale hands on his knee, but he could not find the words or movements to push her away.
"Rachel. Your sister," she whispered, looking at him as if she wanted to ask if he still remembered her.
"Oh," Jacob murmured, now understanding the look on her face. How could he not have known who she was talking about? Then again, he had not heard from his sister in over twenty years. He did not even know that she knew how to contact them. "Why did she call?"
For the first time since he had emerged from the forest, Jacob dared to look straight into Bella's eyes. And she looked right back.
"Jacob, Billy… He's dead," Bella whispered, not breaking eye contact. "I'm so sorry."
For what seemed like a century, the world stopped turning, his heart stopped beating, and Bella's eyes were the only constants in the universe. Everything Jacob could hold on to. He never felt her take his hand, did not bother with the cold. All he felt was that there was something there that held him were he was, and kept him from falling apart.
Of course, he had known this day would eventually come. Some nights, when he was looking at the few old photos he had kept, he had wondered if it might have already happened without him noticing. If his father was already gone.
It was not exactly sadness that Jacob felt, not the grief he had expected. Guilt dominated him. Guilt that he had not been there to tell his father goodbye, that he had not been with him. He had failed him. Instead of being there and taking care of him, he had just left him behind, ran away and never came back.
The world suddenly materialized again around him, as he felt Bella's cold thumb gently wipe away tears he had not realized he'd been shedding. She was still looking at him, her eyes as soft as they could be, softer than he had seen her since she became this stranger.
"I'm so sorry," she repeated, so quiet that even Jacob had problems understanding her. He even wondered if she had not spoken to him at all, but whispered it to herself.
"Had to happen, eventually," Jacob said hoarsely, grabbing her wrist with his free hand, pulling her hand away from his face - however, not letting go of it.
"Don't say that, Jacob."
"It's true, though," he said, looking deep into her eyes, silently speaking the words his lips could not form. This is the way it is supposed to be.
She knew. He could see it so clearly in her eyes. Maybe, she could indeed read into his soul when she looked at him like this.
"What do you think about going home?"
It took a few seconds of silence for the words to sink in, the rushing of the creek causing Jacob to feel light headed.
"I like it here, I think I'll stay a little longer," he answered, his voice thick and husky from the tears he had shed.
"That's not what I mean," Bella whispered, rising herself higher on her knees so she was almost facing Jacob. His throat burned as he took a breath, the sweet scent that seemed to be etched onto her every single hair and pore prickling in his nose. She was so close, he would feel her breath on his skin if she were breathing.
"I want to go home."
"What do you mean?" Jacob asked, wondering if she was not bothered by his own scent so close to her.
As she freed her hand from the loose grip of his fingers, Bella rested her cold hand against Jacob's still damp cheek, smiling weakly at him.
"I've been wanting to go back to Forks for a while. I just… never said anything. But…I thought, maybe you would… want to, as well. Just for a little while," Bella whispered, not moving, her gaze so much stronger than her nervous voice.
"Why didn't you just go?" Jacob asked, trying to suppress the urge to rest his free hand against her cheek, the tips of his fingers aching to touch her skin.
"It wouldn't be the same. It's our home, right? It only seems right if we went there together."
Jacob's heart was racing, his mind and heart unable to handle all of this. He had failed his father, lost his mind, and here was Bella, looking at him as if things had never changed between them, as if it was a simple decision to go back to the place he had once lost her.
"Please, Jacob," she begged, for a millisecond sounding like his girl again, pleading for him to stay.
Jacob heard himself whisper Okay before he felt his lips move, the shy smile on Bella's face so achingly beautiful that he felt new tears gather in his eyes. She raised herself even higher, softly, very lightly, pressing her ice cold lips against his forehead, murmuring thank you against his warm skin.
part 4
World: Twilight
Status: multi chapter
Title: Songs from Different Times
Rating: M
Genre: Angst, Drama
Pairing: Jacob & Bella
Warnings: language, angst, sexual situations, character death, post-BD
Summary: Thirty years into the future, and the world has stopped turning for Jacob Black. Caught between the strings of his imprint, long forfeited dreams and the hope that somewhere deep inside that girl with the golden eyes, his Bells is still waiting for him, he has to make a choice much graver than any other.
Notes: There are plenty of people who deserve a big hug and millions of thank you's for pre-reading this story and giving me feedback, helping me to get this story going and turn it from a weird idea that would not leave my mind to a finsihed story. So, lezah_hctiw lsjcandy , runningsissors , lizdesmond, dredhedred, and evaa_3 , thank you all so very much for all the help and support.
made by sarahtomas
part 1
S o n g s f r o m D i f f e r e n t T i m e s
Part 3
not ready to let go / cause then I'd never know / what I could be missing
jason walker - down
It did not take Jacob as long to get back as it had taken him to get away. Much too soon he started to sense an odd feeling of familiarity, felt the pull that kept him running, slowly getting weaker as he got closer.
The sun was rising again and with every step he took, Jacob started to become more aware of himself and everything rushing past him. He started to feel the unpleasant way his tongue was sticking to his dry palate, the painful, hollow ache in his stomach, the burning of his muscles.
The closer he got, the colder everything seemed to become. And then, ever so slowly, Jacob started to become aware of the sickening sweet scent that caused his instincts to raise an alarm. This foolproof sign for danger was rooted deep inside of him. Only now that he had been absent for a few days did Jacob realize how god awful this smell was, how it burned inside his nose, causing his stomach to clench uncomfortably. It was disgusting.
Suddenly, between the rustling of trees, the birds singing and the wind rushing past his ears, Jacob could hear familiar, crystal clear voices in the distance, all mingled together which made it difficult for him to decipher any meaning behind the words.
But one thing was sure; they knew he was coming back. If he was able to smell them, they must have picked up his scent by now, as well. Jacob tried not to listen too closely, trying not to let whatever words were spoken come too close to him.
His steps slowed down to a steady walk as he reached the border of the forest, eyeing slivers of the old brick house in the meadow, mostly hidden behind the trees. Their voices had turned silent, and Jacob was sure that Edward had ordered that, reading the resentment in his thoughts.
Jacob realized that he was standing at the exact same place of the forest line, through which he had escaped a few days ago. He had been following his own steps back. A pair of neatly folded jeans lay on the grass, oddly out of place.
Holding the piece of fabric between his teeth - he had always hated the taste of denim in his mouth - Jacob retreated a few steps back into the forest, knowing that the trees would not actually provide him with much privacy, but keeping up the charade nonetheless.
It had been many years since Jacob had last spent multiple days in a row as a wolf, and the longer he did, the harder it was to phase back. He had never found the right words to describe phasing, but it was not a conscious decision, not like a switch he could turn on and off. It was instinctive, and the fact that he had it mostly under control after all these years made it less savage, however, never a conscious decision, either. There was no specific movement he had to make, no certain thought to think, no order to give. It just had to happen.
The problem was that Jacob did not really want it to happen. He needed to find a way to force the wolf out of him, something that went completely against his nature.
But, before he could start fighting a part of himself he felt needed to be controlled, something else made the decision for him.
A weak whimper from inside the house stabbed every single nerve in his body, causing him to tremble. Please. And before Jacob knew what was happening, he was standing on two feet again, smaller, shorter, naked, sweaty.
He knew they were holding her back, she would have been here minutes ago. And although he was grateful for the tiny bit of privacy, he could not help but clench his fists to keep the anger under control that started to boil hotly inside of him at the mere thought of someone holding Renesmee back, stopping her from running outside.
To suddenly be standing on just two feet was strangely unsteady, yet familiar. Like a faint memory. Jacob's legs were trembling while trying to keep him standing straight.
He quickly stepped into the jeans, realizing immediately that it was a brand new pair - he hated the feeling of new jeans, when they were cold, unworn, rigid, feeling like a foreign object. With trembling fingers he zipped up the pants, not bothering with the useless button.
Taking a deep breath through his mouth, the sticky scent still too fresh to be endured, Jacob started walking carefully towards the end of the tree line, not as sure on his feet as he was in his wolf form. As more and more of the house came into view, Jacob recognized the small woman bursting down the stairs, running across the damp lawn towards him. He felt the strings inside of him pull him further and quicker towards her, strings that she had attached to his heart the moment she was born.
The tidal wave of guilt that crashed over Jacob as Renesmee jumped at him, arms clinging to his shoulders, legs wrapped around his middle, face buried in the crook of his neck, was indescribable. He knew it was not guilt he should feel, yet he did.
Jacob could feel his arms wrap weakly around Renesmee's trembling body, sobs ripping through her as tears pearled against the warm skin of Jacob's neck.
"What is going on, Jacob? Leah wouldn't say anything and I was so confused and they wouldn't let me run after you, and please just tell me what is wrong and we can talk about it or make it better and if I did something wrong than you have to tell me because I could never forgive myself if I hurt you, so please, please, Jacob. Talk to me. Did I do anything?" Renesmee murmured frantically against his neck, clinging to him as if she was afraid he would make a run for it again.
Jacob could never lie to her. Never would his lips be able to form any words that did her any harm. The only corner he had left to sneak into was that of withholding information.
"No, Nessie. You didn't do anything wrong," he whispered reassuringly into her ear, kissing her cheek, feeling her calm down in his arms. She indeed had not done anything wrong. He could not blame her, which made it even harder for him to accept his dependent attachment to her. She was in no way the villain in his story. Not the slightest clue about the power she had over him would ever come into her mind.
"I was so worried. I thought you weren't going to come back," Renesmee cried, moving her head back just enough to be able to look Jacob into the eye.
"Shhh, I'm here now," he whispered, his lips pulling apart to form something that must appear to be a comforting smile to her. Renesmee nodded, before untangling herself from him, keeping her right hand on his shoulder as she turned around the face the house, wiping a stray tear from her glistering cheek.
Only now did Jacob allow his eyes to focus on the front porch of the old house. The scenery was too perfect to be real, there was too much breathtaking, agonizing beauty. It was terrifying, as if he was looking at a painting in a museum.
Rosalie stood directly by the door as if she had been dragged outside against her will, wearing a blue jumpsuit (she had been working on the many cars in the garage more and more after Renesmee had grown out of rompers and pink dresses), holding a hand against Emmett's arm (who seemed to be less and less quick witted these days). Carlisle had his arms wrapped around Esme, Alice sat on the stone balustrade, her short legs dangling off the edge. Jasper stood behind her and Emmett, almost hidden, as if he were shielding himself from something. Leah stood away from all them, arms crossed in front of her chest. Jacob's eyes lingered on all of them a second longer than necessary, but eventually, he dared to face Bella and Edward. Much to his surprise, she stood a foot apart from him, not appearing to take any notice.
Instinctively, Jacob knew that something was wrong, that there was a flaw in the picture. It took the sight of Bella capturing her bloodless bottom lip between her sharp teeth for him to realize what he had been missing.
The look on all their faces.
Fear.
This was not quite the reaction Jacob had expected. What were they afraid of? That he was going on a rampage? Freak out? Lose his mind entirely? Attack them? A suicide commando?
It was a hesitant, creeping kind of fear that shone in their eyes. There was more to this gathering than merely his return. Had he honestly expected a warm welcome from Rosalie? Maybe Alice was hiding party hats somewhere - she would probably find a reason to celebrate the outbreak of World War III. Had Jasper ever showed any kind of affection towards him, or pretty much anyone for that matter, except Alice?
No, Jacob had not really expected them to welcome him back in any special kind of way. Awkward silence, maybe questions. He had counted on coming back and living on just like he had before, fitting himself back into their perfect little puzzle.
"What's going on?" he asked Renesmee, although he knew that everyone else could hear just as clearly.
Renesmee's face look strangely crooked, as if there were words lingering on her tongue and she was not capable of speaking them out loud (Jacob wondered if he looked the same), and suddenly, Jacob recognized a hint of the same fear in her eyes that was reflecting from the front porch.
"Jacob?"
This had been the last voice he had expected to speak to him. Bella sounded meek, her eyes trying hard to avoid meeting Jacob's directly.
"What?" he asked, not intending to sound as harsh as he had. But if they were not going to tell him what was going on soon, he was sure he had every right to be pissed.
Bella swallowed and Jacob felt nauseous as he saw her throat rise and fall quickly. It was all so unnecessary, so artificial.
"Maybe we should… go and… talk," she said quietly, kneading her hands. She must feel immensely uncomfortable if she started to fall back into old behaviour patterns that did not come naturally to her any longer.
"Why?" Jacob asked harshly again. It felt as if they were dancing on hot coals, trying to avoid the inevitable sting of heat.
"There's something…you should know. But, I don't think you want to talk about this right here. We could walk a little bit."
Edward pulled his right hand out of his pocket, resting it on Bella's shoulder, while she just stared ahead, trying hard not to look too deep. What was this game they were playing?
"Why can't you just tell me now?"
He felt Renesmee's hand grip his shoulder a bit harder, brushing her thumb an inch against his collarbone, looking at him pleadingly.
"Go with Mom, Jacob. It's better that way, believe me," she said, smiling at him with a twisted mixture of fear and sadness.
He hated it when she called her Mom. Looking at the two of them, everyone would think they were sisters, the exact same age, neither of them more mature than the other. Looking at them as mother and daughter was such an abstract concept, that Jacob usually tried to block it out.
Looking back at Bella, Jacob nodded surely. As if that had been the command everyone had been waiting for, the others started to move back inside, Leah throwing a sad glance in Jacob's direction.
Edward kissed Bella's cheek, eliciting no response from her, before he too, walked back inside the old house.
"I'll see you later," Renesmee said quietly, kissing Jacob's cheek before dancing across the lawn and up the stone stairs, disappearing into the house with a last distressed glance at her mother.
Jacob stood on the damp lawn, not looking at Bella but focussing on the red brick wall behind her. It reminded him strangely of how her eyes had once been, only for a short while but devious and unbearable to look at nonetheless. Except for the rise and fall of his chest with every breath he took, Jacob did not move an inch, waiting for Bella to take the first step this time.
The world seemed even more twisted than usual, and as Bella walked down the stairs, her bare feet made almost no noise, even to his excellent ears. She kept her pace human, slow, crossing the wide lawn and walking towards a different part of the forest than the one Jacob had emerged from a few minutes ago.
No words were spoken, silence wrapping them up. Bella had already reached the line of trees when Jacob started following her, not rushing, not minding the gap between them.
Bella was wearing a pair of old, well-worn jeans, a white blouse, her long mahogany hair cascading down her back. As she stepped gracefully between the trees, she looked ethereal, like a beauty from an ancient time.
There seemed to be no rush, both of them taking small, deliberate steps, Bella leading him deep into the forest without saying a word. He did not even hear her take a useless breath.
"So, why exactly are we here?" Jacob finally asked, breaking the numb silence between them.
His words seemed to float past Bella, not leaving any impact on her. She merely continued her small, slow steps, keeping her head straight, her hair gently waving with every move.
"Bella?"
"Let's just walk a bit more," she said quietly, stretching out her hand to brush it along the bark of a tree.
Jacob suddenly felt the weight of his journey crushing down on him. His empty stomach, the thirst, his eyelids heavily fluttering in front of his eyes. Still, he kept walking. It seemed to be his destiny, his assignment in life. Keep going. No matter what.
When they reached a small creek, Bella suddenly stopped walking with no sign of slowness - she just stopped in her tracks. She waited for Jacob to walk up next to her, not moving an inch. He could see from his peripheral vision, that she was biting her lower lip again, nibbling with teeth that killed deer on a regular basis.
Jacob drew his eyes away from her, kneeling down onto the muddy ground, sinking his hands into the ice cold, crystal clear stream of the creek. Using his hands as a cup, he lowered his head, taking a big gulp of the icy water, feeling it run down his throat, cooling him, sating his thirsts, wetting his tongue so he could breathe more easily.
"You're hungry," Bella stated, not asking, not really looking at Jacob. He just shrugged, taking another gulp before drying his hands on his new jeans, standing up again.
Something caught his eye then that made his stomach clench painfully, the cold water filling his stomach threatening to come back up his throat again. An old, dead, thick branch lay right by the creek. Images of a sandy beach played behind Jacob's eyes like an unwanted movie, images of bonfires and a driftwood log that had meant so much more.
He moved without really wanting to, the sudden flood of memories sickening him, yet, he could not help himself. Crossing the small creek with one big step, he ran his hands over the mossy old branch before sitting down on it.
For one small second, the feeling of the old wood and the sound of the water running past cast him back into his swirl of memories, into a past he both wanted to forget and cherish.
"Rachel called," Bella suddenly said carefully, still staring ahead. Jacob felt a shallow ache in his chest as the images in his head slowly blurred and slipped through his fingers.
"Who?" he asked confused, not having expected Bella to say anything anytime soon.
His question seemed to wake Bella up from whatever self-protective slumber she had been in, and she looked at him with pure sadness in her golden eyes. Slowly, so much slower than she was capable of, she crossed the creek as well, kneeling down next to Jacob.
He flinched a little when she rested one of her cold, pale hands on his knee, but he could not find the words or movements to push her away.
"Rachel. Your sister," she whispered, looking at him as if she wanted to ask if he still remembered her.
"Oh," Jacob murmured, now understanding the look on her face. How could he not have known who she was talking about? Then again, he had not heard from his sister in over twenty years. He did not even know that she knew how to contact them. "Why did she call?"
For the first time since he had emerged from the forest, Jacob dared to look straight into Bella's eyes. And she looked right back.
"Jacob, Billy… He's dead," Bella whispered, not breaking eye contact. "I'm so sorry."
For what seemed like a century, the world stopped turning, his heart stopped beating, and Bella's eyes were the only constants in the universe. Everything Jacob could hold on to. He never felt her take his hand, did not bother with the cold. All he felt was that there was something there that held him were he was, and kept him from falling apart.
Of course, he had known this day would eventually come. Some nights, when he was looking at the few old photos he had kept, he had wondered if it might have already happened without him noticing. If his father was already gone.
It was not exactly sadness that Jacob felt, not the grief he had expected. Guilt dominated him. Guilt that he had not been there to tell his father goodbye, that he had not been with him. He had failed him. Instead of being there and taking care of him, he had just left him behind, ran away and never came back.
The world suddenly materialized again around him, as he felt Bella's cold thumb gently wipe away tears he had not realized he'd been shedding. She was still looking at him, her eyes as soft as they could be, softer than he had seen her since she became this stranger.
"I'm so sorry," she repeated, so quiet that even Jacob had problems understanding her. He even wondered if she had not spoken to him at all, but whispered it to herself.
"Had to happen, eventually," Jacob said hoarsely, grabbing her wrist with his free hand, pulling her hand away from his face - however, not letting go of it.
"Don't say that, Jacob."
"It's true, though," he said, looking deep into her eyes, silently speaking the words his lips could not form. This is the way it is supposed to be.
She knew. He could see it so clearly in her eyes. Maybe, she could indeed read into his soul when she looked at him like this.
"What do you think about going home?"
It took a few seconds of silence for the words to sink in, the rushing of the creek causing Jacob to feel light headed.
"I like it here, I think I'll stay a little longer," he answered, his voice thick and husky from the tears he had shed.
"That's not what I mean," Bella whispered, rising herself higher on her knees so she was almost facing Jacob. His throat burned as he took a breath, the sweet scent that seemed to be etched onto her every single hair and pore prickling in his nose. She was so close, he would feel her breath on his skin if she were breathing.
"I want to go home."
"What do you mean?" Jacob asked, wondering if she was not bothered by his own scent so close to her.
As she freed her hand from the loose grip of his fingers, Bella rested her cold hand against Jacob's still damp cheek, smiling weakly at him.
"I've been wanting to go back to Forks for a while. I just… never said anything. But…I thought, maybe you would… want to, as well. Just for a little while," Bella whispered, not moving, her gaze so much stronger than her nervous voice.
"Why didn't you just go?" Jacob asked, trying to suppress the urge to rest his free hand against her cheek, the tips of his fingers aching to touch her skin.
"It wouldn't be the same. It's our home, right? It only seems right if we went there together."
Jacob's heart was racing, his mind and heart unable to handle all of this. He had failed his father, lost his mind, and here was Bella, looking at him as if things had never changed between them, as if it was a simple decision to go back to the place he had once lost her.
"Please, Jacob," she begged, for a millisecond sounding like his girl again, pleading for him to stay.
Jacob heard himself whisper Okay before he felt his lips move, the shy smile on Bella's face so achingly beautiful that he felt new tears gather in his eyes. She raised herself even higher, softly, very lightly, pressing her ice cold lips against his forehead, murmuring thank you against his warm skin.
part 4