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All That We've Been Through

Summary:
"You're really serious about this, aren't you?" "Yes" "Well, I guess there's nothing left to say." What if Edward left Bella................... but never left Forks? What if Bella freaked out................... and ran away? What if Jacob played the love-sick puppy........ but not forever? An Alternative New Moon


Notes:
Disclaimer: I own nothing. At all. Especially not anything Twilight-ish (although owning Taylor Lautner would be nice... seriously, is he for sale?). Well, I have the books. I'm allowed to have the books, right? So, here we are, yet another Bella ending up with Jacob story - I didn't see the point of keeping the end a secret, we all knew where this one was headed! - but I promise there's at least one particularly intense tangent in the plot. I like it anyway :) There is a bit of OOC with Bella with a dip into an alternative back story Pre-Twilight... story wouldn't work otherwise!


2. Gone

Rating 0/5   Word Count 1416   Review this Chapter

It was light before Bella returned home. It had been for a while. She had driven home in a daze; the car seemed to drive itself as her mind replayed that morning's performance. Had he really just left her? Had he tried to kill her? Had the whole thing just been a horrible, horrible dream?

It wasn't a dream.

She cut the engine as she pulled up to the little house that she had shared with her father for over a year. She looked up at the window which was still open from Edward's hasty departure just hours before. The lack of indentations on the grass below showed the lightness and agility of his movements as he had escaped. She sat staring at the scene, recalling the final moments of the passionate embrace which nearly damned them both.

A heartstring snapped as she remembered it.

Still under a cloud of confusion and pain, she entered the house, passing through the hallway and the living room, ignoring anyone who saw her, and slowly climbed the stairs to her room. Her path had been one of silence, in her head.

"Bella?" Charlie asked, quite obvious of the scene playing before him - his daughter walking past not only himself, but also the other two people in the room. "Bella, I didn't know you'd gone out. Are you okay? Why are your pyjamas wet? Where are your clothes?" Charlie asked, realising his daughter had been outside in short pyjama shorts and shirt.

Bella didn't respond. Her mind was so caught up in her own tragedy that nothing else around her registered. She went straight to her room and had the presence of mind to close and lock the door behind her before she flopped onto her unmade bed. The tears didn't take long to show.

She could hear voices downstairs debating theories of what had just happened. She recognised the voice of an older man.

Moments later, she heard footsteps on the stair, which always creaked when they needed to be silent, giving Charlie away in an instant.

"Bella?" he said quietly through the door as he knocked. "Bells, honey, what's wrong?"

"Just leave me alone," she wailed. "Don't talk to me!"

"But Bells..."

"Dad, I don't want to talk right now." She tried not to take her pain out on Charlie, as he had not done anything to hurt her, but to an extent it was inevitable. "I want to be left alone."

With no response to this, Charlie turned and headed back downstairs defeated.

Again, a mumbling of voices came from the living room. Bella couldn't make one voice out from the other as the words were spoken so quickly, but she did know that a third person had joined in the conversation.

Then all went silent. It was so quiet that she didn't even hear the footsteps on the stairs.

"Bella," said a familiar, comforting voice. "It's me, Jacob."

Jacob.

"Bells," he started cautiously. "What happened?"

His concern was met by increased sobs of heartache.

"Go away," Bella sobbed.

"I'm not going anywhere," he informed her, turning round and sliding down the door, sitting with his back against the wood, bringing his knees parallel to his chest and resting his elbows on them. "I'll have Charlie bring me a pillow and a sleeping bag if I have to. I'm not moving."

Bella continued to cry. His words and actions, while admirable, did little to placate the torture she was enduring.

"Go away, Jacob," she choked. "There's nothing you can do. There's nothing anyone can do. He's gone," she blurted out accidentally.

"Who's gone?" asked a perplexed Jacob with his head turning sharply towards the door.

Realising she had just blundered, Bella struggled to backtrack.

"No, no, no one," she replied sheepishly. "No one's gone." She was far from convincing in her denial.

In the moment it had taken Bella to concoct and subsequently relay her paper-thin lie, Jacob realised what, and, more to the point, who, she was talking about.

"Edward?" he asked in a surprised tone. "Edward left you?"

"Yes," she replied flatly, trying finally to calm her tears, her eyes stinging and red. Her resolve to not speak dissolved as Jacob caught her mistake.

"Ed-Ed-Edward doesn't l-l-love me," she stuttered in agony. Saying the words aloud seemed to make it all worse. Make it all real. Make her cry again.

"Bella," Jacob whispered to the door. "Bella, it's going to be okay."

"How could you possibly know that?" she screamed through her tears, taking her displaced anger out on Jacob. "How dare you tell me it'll be okay. Do you think I'm over-reacting? You don't even know me! Go away, Jacob."

The insinuation that he didn't know Bella stung him. They had known each other since they were kids. They knew each other well. She just didn't remember.

"No."

"Why not?" she found herself asking. Her voice sounded defeated and too tired to argue further.

"Because you need someone here," he said to her, trying to be as reassuring as possible without sounding patronising. Perhaps they weren't as close now as they once were as children, but Jacob still felt a natural connection to her. He felt a need to help her.

Bella knew he was trying so hard to pick her up from the low place she had found herself in and it upset her to realise she was taking her anger out on him. She dragged herself wearily from her bed towards the door but hesitated and jerked her hand back as though it burned when she touched the handle.

Jacob heard her footsteps across the old wooden boards, knowing she was on the other side of the door.

"Bella?"

He started to get up but slipped back down when the footsteps stopped and the door did not open. His head tipped downwards, leaving him staring at his shiny belt-buckle.

"Bells, are you okay?" he asked, his head still in its bowed position.

"No," she replied as the last of the anger she had projected onto him finally shattered. She turned and slid down the door herself, leaving them back-to-back with only the flimsy door separating them. Jacob's natural warmth radiated through the wood touching the broken Bella. She felt close to light, close to hope, close to someone who cared for her.

"He left me," she began. "He left me because he doesn't love me, but because he cares ‘on some level'," she imitated, "he..." Bella did some editing of the story, "he left me because he didn't want to keep pretending if it was going to end up hurting me. I guess he was just being nice..."

"Don't you dare defend him, Bella. Look at what he's done to you!"

"I know, but-"

"But nothing, you understand me? I can't believe you actually made it home."

She paused momentarily, taking in what he'd said.

"I don't know what to do," she said, meekly.

"Has he actually left Forks?"

"I don't think so. He never said anything about going away... Oh my God, I'll have to see him at school!"

"Bella," He tried to soothe her from the opposite side of the door. "You're going to be okay. I'll help you."

"How can you help me when I'm at school?"

"Well, not perhaps in the school itself, but every other moment you're not there. You won't be alone," he said. "I'll walk you to the door and pick you up afterwards if that will make you happy!" He laughed quietly.

She allowed herself a small smile at the thought of her own bodyguard.

Gracefully, for once, she rose from her position on the floor and turned to face the door again. This time the handle didn't burn at the touch and she opened it slowly to find an already standing, and kindly smiling, Jacob on the other side.

"I still feel like hell, you know," she warned with a weak voice.

"Yeah, you look it," he teased, before lifting her up in a hug.

"Thanks a lot, Black," she nearly laughed in response, her head resting against his shoulder.

"Anytime, Swan."