Text Size Large SizeMedium SizeSmall Size    Color Scheme Black SchemeWhite SchemeGrey SchemePaper Scheme        

Four Times Jacob Black Imprinted (and One Time He Didn't)

Summary:
A "five times" fic featuring Jacob/Bella, Jacob/Angst, and even more Jacob. What more could you want?


Notes:


1. Chapter 1

Rating 5/5   Word Count 1231   Review this Chapter

1 // Bella

Being a wolf is hell. Oh, it’s not actually the transformation; to tell the truth, he enjoys the power and grace and the sheer speed of his other form. But having to avoid Bella, having to lie to her? That’s hell, right there.

So when he sneaks out of his room one night, it’s not anxiety that makes him run so rapidly, but relief. The tree outside her window is easy enough to scale, and finally she opens the window and he springs through. Her eyebrows are knitted together, and she’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

He can’t look away from her, so he crouches on the ground, frozen and staring. She’s starting to look worried now. “Jacob, are you okay?” she asks.

“Bella,” he says intently, “I love you.”

Her eyes widen and then flick away from him. She opens her mouth, and he knows what she’s going to say before she says it.

“Don’t. Just don’t,” he says, and leaves.

2 // Emily

Sam was a godsend: mentor, brother, leader. Alpha. There was nothing Jacob wouldn’t do for Sam, no chasm he wouldn’t breach, no giant he wouldn’t slay.

That’s why when Jacob met Emily, he wanted to shoot himself.

His infatuation with Bella was rapidly growing deeper, and he had convinced himself that he would never imprint on anybody. It was a horrible thing, anyway, he argued; but that didn’t make up for the sheer fascination he felt when he first saw Emily.

“ – and this is my girlfriend, Emily,” Sam finished. She extended her hand gracefully, an expectant smile gentling her face.

Jacob backed away. “Sorry, Sam,” he muttered. “I just forgot – Dad needs me – ” and then he was off like a shot of lightning. As he vanished he heard her puzzled voice: “That’s odd, he didn’t even look at me.”

The Quiluete pack lost a brother that day, and if there were stories of a wild wolf ranging the Rockies…

Well, Emily Uley never heard them.

3 // Back to Bella

He was a sophomore when she moved into town. It was all his Dad would talk about for days, and Charlie was so excited that he quivered constantly.

“She’s pretty,” Charlie would hint whenever he was around. “Smart, too. I think you two will get along great.” His craggy face turned reflective. “A klutz, though. Shame Dr. Cullen isn’t around to fix her up anymore, with all the accidents she has.” Billy’s eyes would twinkle, too, but Jacob always muttered something polite and slipped away, to work on his car or run with the pack. Mostly he was thankful he didn’t have to drive that ancient truck anymore.

Then it was finally the arrival date; he only knew it because his Dad wheeled into his doorway before the sun was finished rising. “Jacob,” he said. “Thought I’d go see Charlie, give his daughter a welcome present. Will you…will you drive me?”

Jacob groaned. Sprawled mostly across his bed, with his face buried in a pillow, he was perfectly comfortable for a Saturday morning. He only answered because of Billy’s pride; if the old man had stooped so low as to ask for help, it must be important to him.

“Sure, Dad,” he groaned.

“Great. Five minutes?”

“Yeah, Dad.”

It was ten minutes until he actually managed to pull away from his pillow, and another eight by the time he’d dressed and shoveled down breakfast. The ride there was bright and very, very, early, but when they pulled up in front of the police chief’s house he couldn’t contain a glimmer of curiosity.

Charlie was out front, supervising the trunk of his car. “Billy, Jacob,” he greeted, and his face split into a wide grin. “Bella’s inside, unloading her things. She refused to let me help,” he added, by way of explanation.

Jacob had to raise an eyebrow at that, and then the star herself appeared. She was dressed in ancient jeans and a sweatshirt, and her hair was pulled back in a messy tail. As soon as he saw her, he knew.

“Hey,” she said. “You must be Billy and Jacob Black, right? Dad’s told me a lot about you.”

“Bella?” Jacob said, and extended his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

4 // Y

He’s racing along a back highway in upstate New York when he finds her. His bike is making threatening noises and the wind is blowing well below freezing, but there’s no snow yet. Even if there were, he wouldn’t be bothered; he’s hot in blood and temper.

He’s racing along at speeds no human could handle, and his sharp eyes pick out a bright red jacket against the dull black of the road. He skids to a stop, not bothering to listen for traffic. This area’s twice as empty as La Push. Except for the red jacket –

And as he draws closer, he realizes it’s not just a red jacket, but a whole human.

A girl. A girl in a red jacket, with half of her face caved in and one eye crusted with frozen blood. Peripherally he’s aware that there’s part of a motorcycle laying a few feet away, but his attention doesn’t leave her face for an instant. She has the most remarkable shade of red hair; it clashes horribly with her coat, and he knows that it’s her real hair color because she wasn’t the type of person to dye her hair.

He drops to his knees beside her. She’s missing a hand, too, and her legs are twisted awkwardly, but worst of all is her rib cage: it’s sunken on the left side, and some of the broken ribs are visible even through her jacket. There is no way she’s alive, but Jacob holds perfectly still anyway, listening desperately for a strangled breath.

She’s dead.

He’s imprinted on a girl who is dead.

That’s when the sobs start: he masks his face with one giant hand and cries silent scalding tears. God, is this what it’s like? He feels like he’s going to tear apart at the seams, but instead of being a wolf, he’ll be…nothing. Just nothing.

He doesn’t cry for very long, because he’s Jacob Black; when his hand drops away his face is dry. He strokes her hair gently. It’s fanned out like a crimson pillow. Her eyes are brown like cinnamon, not brown like chocolate. He wonders about the faces of their children never-to-be.

She looks so broken, and she’s his, and she’s dead. He slips an arm beneath her and freezes, his eye caught by the gleam of a charm strung around her neck. It’s delicate and silver, a simple star engraved with the letter “Y.” Her initial, then; he doesn’t try to think of a name for her. Instead he backs away in a crouch, his long hair falling in a curtain around his face. For that one instant he’s utterly motionless.

Then he explodes, and a fierce russet wolf is racing away, from the road into the woods. He doesn’t think he wants to be human again.

She’s dead, and so he hates his life; but worst of all he hates himself, because a tiny part of his heart is crying out in glee. Now he belongs entirely to Bella – no more ties in the living world.

That doesn’t stop him from howling his grief to the stars.

5 // and one time he didn’t

“I'm in love with you, Bella. Bella, I love you. And I want you to pick me instead of him.”