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Hopeless

Summary:
Jacob's world is turned inside out by his first transformation. Everything is going wrong, at least in his mind. Billy must hate him, Bella must fear him, he must be a horrible monster... How does he cope with the pain? DISCLAIMER: Not mine. I own nothing.


Notes:
I know I should be updating one of my WIPs, but I'm still working on a chapter for WCHB, and I thought of this, so I figured I'd throw you guys a bone. I hope this'll hold you until I get another chapter for one of the others up. This is my first attempt at writing a whole peice in second person. Hope it turned out ok!


2. Chapter 2

Rating 0/5   Word Count 1707   Review this Chapter

You know that eventually you will have to leave the garage and go home to face Billy. You know it -- but it doesn't stop you from putting it off for as long as you can. Billy must hate you now. How could he not? You almost ripped his face off, for the love of God! Without any reason. You are a monster.

Soon, the hunger pangs begin to cloud your mind and you find yourself unfolding your inhumanly long limbs and standing, careful not to hit your head on the low ceiling. Your gaze falls on the bloodied glass from earlier, and for a reason you cannot name, you pick it up and tuck it in your pocket. You won't use it again, but it will serve as a reminder of the darkest place that you have ever been; a place you never want to go again. A place you refuse to let yourself go again, even if that means letting go of yourself. If that means never feeling another emotion as long as you live, you will not sink back into that darkness.

The path to the house is short, but it takes you longer than a five mile hike would have before. Your feet drag along the worn trail, waiting for the dilapidated place you have called home for sixteen years appears. When it does, though, it takes all the determination that you have not to turn and run in the other direction. Sam would let you crash at his place for a while -- no. This is something that you have to do. You owe it to Billy to at least let him rage at you, let him hate you. You owe him that.

The door is unlocked, as it always is, and it still creaks as you open it. The interior is still messy and pleasantly lit, and everything is still in the same place, so why is it you no longer feel like you belong here? Like it is no longer your home?

"Dad?" You call out, your voice small and quavering.

"Kitchen," your father's deep voice comes back, and you start towards it, every instinct screaming for you to turn and run in the opposite direction. But you don't. You head toward the brightly lit kitchen to face him.

His chair is pushed up against the table, an empty beer bottle to the left of him and a telephone in his hands.

"Bella called for you," he says, gesturing towards the phone. "She's very persistent, that girl."

You nod, unable to fathom why his father isn't throwing things at him yet.

"Are you all right, kid?" Billy's voice is concerned. "I know you're having a hard time right now, but I figured you'd at least come home last night. I woulda been worried sick if Sam hadn't have come and told me you were down in the garage --"

"Why aren't you mad?" You blurt, "Why aren't you screaming? I almost killed you! I attacked you! Why don't you hate me?" Like Bella would, if she found out. Like everyone would, if they were to know.

"I'm so sorrry, dad. So, so, so sorry," tears begin to coarse down your face again, silently. You don't make any noises as your father wheels himself towards you and opens his arms.

You let yourself be drawn into the familiar embrace, an embrace that you have been a part of since you've been born. You're now twice as tall, but it still feels the same. Strong, comforting -- like home.

"Now, why would I be mad? I'm proud of you, Jake. Not many boys are chosen for the great responsibility you've been given, and take it as well as you. Especially with all the stuff that you'r already dealing with," He adds, suggesting that he knows more about your situation with Bella than you suspect.

He's being far too understanding. You think it would be easier if he would yell and scream and truly hate you. Because now, you just feel worse for thinking less of him.

"No," Billy continues, oblivious to your inner turmoil. "I know who to blame. It isn't Sam, and it sure isn't you. It's them bloodsuckers. They're the reason for all of this."

You look up in surprise. You know that the Cullens are monsters, but how can they be behind your life being turned upside down?

Billy sees your confusion and explains, "Bloodsuckers come back, so do werewolves. When they were gone, we didn't need the Protectors, so my generation didn't phase. When they came back, you did. Get it?"

A red haze drops over your eyes and you are dully aware of the tremors running through your body. You recognize the sypmtoms of an upcoming phase, so you run outside, shooting what you hope is an aoplogetic look back in your father's direction.

You don't have time to disrobe -- you barely have time to dread the upcoming pain.

Your muscles are set afire as your bones begin to crunch, and then that God-awful popping noise echoes through the woods and your whole body is wolfish. You can no longer see in color, but the smells and sounds more than make up for that small deficiency. You can run faster than ever before, and you excercise this as soon as you remember.

The trees blur past, becoming a solid wall as you pick up speed. You leave Jacob behind and become a wild animal, letting your instincts guide you.

Jacob, you're going the wrong way. Sam's voice drifts on the wind, startling you.

What?

You're going the wrong way. The fun is this way. He leads you to a small, symmetrical meadow with high grass and a stream bubbling quietly on one side. A tall, dark headed man prowls there, going after an innocent.

I'm on my way. And suddenly, the depression that you've been in since your change dissapears. You head towards the clearing, running all out. You are there in a matter of minutes, even if you had been going the wrong way before.

The rest of the Pack waits for you there. Sam in front, Paul and Jared in the middle, and Embry and your spot in the back. You take your designated place quickly, adrenaline pumping in your veins. Sam's mind sends the attack plan to you through the Pack mind, as well as involuntarily sending feelings of happiness that you are here, and ready to embrace your destiny.

You scoff mentally, knowing that he will hear. You just want to kill this leech. Not be a wolf.

A scuffling noise as the innocent stumbled backwards brings you all back to the task at hand and you all surge into the clearing, a powerful and frightening sight, you're sure.

A gasp brings your gaze from the bloodsucking monster to the girl you are trying to save. Her caramel colored hair and heart shaped face are achingly familiar, and you realize with a start that this is Bella that you are saving.

However, the fear in her eyes is enough to send your reeling back to the precpice of depression that had become your dearest friend in the past few days.

She doesn't know it's you, Jacob. Don't worry. Embry tries to assauge the pain that the whole Pack feels tearing your chest apart, but it barely registers in your numb mind.

Sam ignores the pain radiating from you, understanding the way you feel like no one else can. He's going for the kill. Attack!

You leap forward, not even sure why. Paul laughs as the Pack begins the chase, telling you, we have to listen to what Sam says. All the time, even when we just want to die. He's the Alpha.

Wonderful, you think back, getting used to the mind-speak thing. Something else I can't control.

You know the whole Pack heard you, but it doesn't bother you. You begin to forget Bella's fear and revulsion as the hunt begins. The cowardly vampire tries to flee, but the Pack is too fast for him to escape.

Sam leaps onto his back, bearing him to the ground, a grim satisfaction evident in his mind. You leap next to him, gripping one of the flailing legs between your teeth and tearing it off.

It registers in your mind that you suddenly know how to kill a vampire; the only way. The information floods into your mind from Sam and the others. You have to pull them apart, piece by piece, then burn the pieces that are left.

Well, you can do that. Paul and Jared leap in from the left, and Embry goes for the screaming head. The screams that make your whole body thrill in anticipation. The leech will be dead soon. You'll have won.

The five of you rip and tear, and it's over all too fast. The death keen cuts off suddenly, as if the throat doesn't exist anymore, which you're sure it doesn't. In minutes, all that's left is a pile of limbs.

Sam orders you all back, and you obey, still not quite understanding why. You watch in a horrified, morbid fascination as the pieces try to pull themselves back together.

You shrink back in revulsion, along with the others. Sam has never heard of this, either, and he quickly phases back to his human form and goes for the lighter in his pants pocket. Pants? Where had they --? Oh. Sam had them tied around one of his forelegs. You'll have to try that -- running around naked could get a little awkward.

The pile of vampire flesh turns to ash as you watch, and the adrenaline dissapears. You send up a bone chilling howl and start running again, although your every muscle screams in exhaustion. You have to make sure she's safe, even if she's terrified of you.

She's not there when you get back to the clearing.

She's gone.

She's gone.

She's gone.

And you know that's how it has to be.