How a Resurrection Really Feels
Knowing that things won't get easier for him as long as he stays within a ten-mile radius of her, Jacob Black decides that it's finally time for him to take off and go his own way, accepting after much consideration Leah's suggestion of leaving together. But this can only mean one sure thing: catastrophe. Right? Set during Breaking Dawn - AU. Jacob/Leah.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. They belong to Steph Meyer. The plot (the leaving part), however, does belong to me. Story title from a song by The Hold Steady. A/N: I can't tell you how disappointed I was when I read Breaking Dawn. And I still am. This is my take on how things eventually went for Jacob, with Leah. Because, let's face it: this was a ship that should've happened.
3. Three - Jacob
Rating 4.5/5 Word Count 1033 Review this Chapter
Chapter Three – in Which Jacob Is Frustrated
My fingers were practically itching. The phone was right in front of me, seemingly begging me to pick it up and dial the familiar number. Call her. Just call her.
It’s not that easy, I kept telling the little voice in my head. We’d been gone for more than two weeks, and I hadn’t called her yet. I knew things were fine; Seth made sure to fill me in on every little detail of what happened back home. Apparently things were working well with Sam and the others, the tension not too strained. It was a relief to hear that – I didn’t want any fighting between them. Not that I could do much from where I was.
I’d talked to my father, who hadn’t said much, besides letting me know that he was proud of me. I’d snorted, tried at nonchalance, not wanting, for some reason, to reveal the liberation I felt. It was hard, that I had left him alone, but I was sure that Sue would be with him, as would Charlie.
At the thought of Charlie, my thoughts darted back to Bella. I couldn’t believe that she was a mother. It was unimaginable.
I thought hard. I closed my eyes, but every time I did that, I could see her face so clearly, the vivid memories of her replaying like a film, the scenes never ending. She’d be my murderer. Without a doubt.
Growling angrily, I made up my mind, picked up my cell and was just about to dial her number, when as if on cue, Leah walked in with a quick knock on the closed door.
“Jake?” she asked and for once, I was happy to see her.
I threw the cell on the bed – now my bed – I sat on, not wanting her to know just yet of what I had been about to do. I would hear enough later that night.
“What’sup?” The words stumbled out of my mouth and I could see the understanding in her eyes. But they didn’t judge. For once, they didn’t judge.
“It’s lunch time,” she announced and when I said okay she remained by the threshold. I looked at her with curiosity and it was obvious she was trying to tell me something.
“Just spill, Leah,” I said a bit exasperatedly, wanting to spare her the trouble of wondering if I’d be offended or not.
“Okay. So, look, I know it’s none of my business, but I know what you’re trying to do, and it won’t help. The phone calls, the writing, whatever you have in mind, won’t make you forget her. It won’t make it easier. I’ve been there,” she finished and I could see she was embarrassed, but it still annoyed the heck out of me.
“You’re right. It is none of your business.”
She didn’t say anything, just looked daggers at me and then left. I was right. I would never hear the end of this. Damn. Why was she heading toward a better place while I was stuck in… the past?
We were staying at Leah’s aunt for as long as we needed, she’d insisted. And being there made me, for minutes at a time, forget of what I had left at home. A family. The one girl I’d ever loved. I may have been 16, on my way to 17, and still young (though feeling as I’d lived an entire lifetime), but I was sure I would never love as fiercely again. And that hurt.
Leah was bearable. We got along more everyday and we’d laugh along with her family. Her three cousins, still not having reached anywhere near their teenage years, knew how to keep one occupied with sports in the backyard or dolls to tend to in the afternoons. There was always something for them to do and whenever we could, Leah and I would spend our time with them, which made the vacant hole in our chests fill with hope if only for a few hours.
But we would live our separate lives too – Leah had applied for a community collage, but hadn’t really shared with me what she was planning on studying. I knew of course – literature and then teaching classes, determined to become a teacher to my immense surprise – but still, I don’t think I ever shared my surprise or asked for her reasons. I never showed any interest. I, on the other hand, was trying my best at finding a job, not wanting her aunt and uncle to keep having to feed two additional mouths.
I was trying. But I was failing.
It was frustrating.
At night we ran. The nearby forest was thick and ancient and big, and there was always something new to discover. After a long day of being apart – I tried my best to discover more about the area I now lived in, sometimes by myself, sometimes with her cousins – we would sneak out the house and walk to the forest, a ten minute walk – and we would undress in the dark and then phase, running till we felt like there wasn’t anything else in us. And we’d reluctantly share our innermost thoughts, our perhaps darkest secrets and weakest of moments, of our hopes and dreams. Without sharing any words, realizing that we weren’t ones to talk. Because what would we talk about?
It was scary, in many ways. Being with her at these times and so closely connected to her. It felt weird, nothing I ever could’ve predicted. And the worst part was that she knew I thought about this. She would never mention my apparent confusion, because she knew I could sense it in her too. And then there were the times when we were humans that we would glance over at each other when we thought the other wasn’t looking, wondering how we ever got to this place and what it meant that we were with each other, of all people. Facing this together, trying our best to erase the memories of the reasons we had left in the first place.
We could see all this as we ran, but we never said anything.
And it frustrated me.