title. before the night turns into dawn
fandom. twilight series
pairing. edward cullen x jacob black
words. 3003 words
notes/warnings. inspired by never too late by three days grace; warnings are for suicide, major character death, and SEVERE angst. you have been warned, this is by no means happy stuff but this was the original version of this fic.
disclaimer. i do not own the twilight series, it's the property of stephanie meyer.
Jacob looked at his bloody wrists wordlessly, the blood was already coursing out of the self-inflicted wounds and he knew that he had little time before he started to feel the effects of the blood loss. The blood was already soaking into the carpet of his room and forming puddles.
For several long moments, he just stared at the blood leaving his body. His heart ached horribly, but the beats were weakening; he could feel them doing so.
Dipping his fingers into the blood, Jacob slowly began tracing out a brief message to everyone who he was going to leave behind. His fingers trembled as he painted the letters out onto the wall; it was a short note, he'd already left a letter behind, not for his father, but for Edward; the one that he'd imprinted on. The one that he could never have.
There was no way that Edward could accept what he'd done, as unintentional as it was, he had Bella and they were going to get married and be happy together. He couldn't interfere with that; there was no place in that future for him, at all.
It was better this way. Everyone else would be happier without him. That was what he convinced himself, he knew that he'd hurt his father by doing this, but Billy would forgive him when he found out why he'd done this; he couldn't bear the shame of what had happened.
This was just how it was supposed to be.
Seth was tired, and there was that meeting that all of them were supposed to be attending with the Cullens, to work out a few issues that would be heading towards them because of the Volturi. They needed permission to turn Bella Swan into a vampire or else she'd be killed anyway, but the problem arose in that they had their doubts about the Volturi actually fulfilling that part of the deal. Apparently, one of their leaders was very interested in Bella's potential 'gift'.
No one had answered the phone at the Black household; Billy was already at the meeting place, brought there by Sue who he'd been visiting, and no one knew where Jacob was. Seth had been given the job of finding where their beta was or what he was up too.
The door to the Black house was unlocked, which made Seth tense up suspiciously, but he didn't put too much into that coil of fear which had taken up residence in his stomach. Nothing was out of place in the kitchen or the family room as he passed it.
It wasn't until Seth was in the hallway that he started to scent something unusual. Stopping, he took a deep breath, and realized what it was.
Near panic, Seth ran down the hall and wrenched Jacob's door nearly off its hinges and stormed into the room. For a few moments, he didn't realize what it was he was seeing but then the scene before him sunk in, and Seth felt the bile rise in his stomach and he promptly threw up all over the hallway carpet.
Then, he fell backwards out of the room, landing squarely on his rear and stared in absolute horror and shock at the sight before him.
Scrawled in messy letters, but it was undoubtedly Jacob's writing, was the phrase 'I'm sorry' across the wall right under the window. A too pale, blood covered arm extended below that, connected to what Seth had to presume was a body, but that body was blocked from his view by the door frame. For that, he was glad. He didn't need to see what lay inside.
His senses already told him everything he needed to know.
It was too late.
There wouldn't be any salvation for Jacob Black.
After all, the dead don't talk.
The coroner wasn't necessary, and in a small town like Forks, there really wasn't one. Carlisle had held the duel position of head surgeon and medical examiner ever since he'd moved back to the small town two years previously. But even he had never been allowed to step on Quileute lands. Until that point.
He wished fervently that it didn't have to be like that.
Carlisle believed that suicide was never the answer. There just had to be a way to solve things, he'd spoken to suicide survivors, had taken numerous courses on psychology, and he knew that suicide never would be a suitable solution. Everyone he had asked had said 'it's only after you're near death, that you realize that all of your problems have an easy solution; I could solve them'. And now, seeing a young life cut so short... Carlisle felt himself grieving with Billy Black.
The room hadn't been touched, as per Carlisle's instructions, but also because young Seth Clearwater had been in too much of a state of shock do to much else other then call him, surprisingly, and then to call Jacob's father to tell him about what he'd discovered.
Knowing that the family would be grieving, Carlisle had requested special permission to bring Esme and Jasper with him. Esme because of her innate caring and sympathy for everyone she met, and Jasper for his unique ability to feel and effect the emotions of those around him. He didn't want Jasper meddling, and he knew that the younger vampire would never do such a thing, but Jasper was good with people.
Without knowing precisely the consequences of his decision, Carlisle brought the two with him to the small Black household. The mood of the journey was particularly sombre, and he noticed that the closer they got to the small house, the duller Jasper's eyes became. It was a common side effect of his gift, Jasper always likened the negative emotions to sucking the life out of you, making it incredibly difficult to function when they pressing down on you from all sides. He hated to do this to the blond vampire, who had enough problems as it was, but he needed him there.
He'd thought of bringing Edward, but somehow, that didn't seem right. Something told him that Jasper was the right choice.
Stepping into the house, Esme immediately went to the kitchen, and began making a pot of tea for Billy and Seth, knowing that the hot beverage would at least calm their nerves somewhat. It was only those two in the house, plus the body, when the three Cullen vampires arrived.
Jasper lingered in the front doorway for several long moments, grasping the frame for support, his eyes unfocused, as he tried to steel himself to deal with the emotional bombardment that he was facing at that moment. He could feel every wave of pain, shock, sadness, anger that ran through the two men who were sitting in absolute horror in the living room, and he could understand that pain. For a short while, it looked like he could deal with it, but eventually he crashed to his knees with a loud thud.
The noise drew the attention of the young wolf, Seth, who, desperate for something to take his mind off of what he'd found, went to investigate.
Carlisle brushed past Seth, giving him a grim look, then a single nod of greeting to Billy as he stepped into the living room. He didn't say anything, knowing that anything he said wouldn't reach the middle-aged man, who kept staring at the coffee table with a glazed look to his eyes. Carlisle doubted that he'd fully processed what exactly had happened.
Either that, or he couldn't deal with the truth of knowing that his son was dead by his own hand. It was a difficult pill to swallow.
Jacob's room was at the end of the hall, and the door leading in was already wide open. The usually brisk steps Carlisle used slowed just a little as he stepped into the room and took in the full sight of what lay before him.
Cause of death was obvious. The blood had seeped into the carpet so thickly that the stench of blood hung in the room, and Jacob's wrists themselves were covered with the semi-dried blood that hadn't dripped off of his body to the carpet. It was the slowest, probably, way to commit suicide, but the message left on the wall obviously gave reason as to why.
A message to his father, that was all Jacob Black had left in his last moments of life. Carlisle's heart ached, and he himself longed for closure. He had to know: Why had Jacob done this?
The body's eyes were closed, hiding the chocolate brown eyes which had just hours earlier, been sparkling and full of life. He looked... peaceful. It wasn't right.
Just as Carlisle bent and began straightening out the body, making mental notes as he went, he noticed a white envelope sitting far too innocently on the desk.
The envelope was in the middle of the desk, which was devoid of anything else. Just a flat wooden surface with that white envelope occupying its center. Curious, Carlisle stood up and walked over. The enveloped was lying with its face down, sealed side up. Flipping it over with a too quick movement of his hands, Carlisle stifled a gasp.
Why would Jacob be writing to Edward? Why would he leave a letter for him? Dimly, Carlisle remembered something that Bella had told them once before, about the wolves, and about a process called 'imprinting'. Then, it all clicked into place.
Jacob had imprinted on Edward. He'd known that Bella and Edward were in love. Coming in between them wasn't an option; he loved Bella too much as a friend to take away the man she loved and desperately needed just so that he could be happy, and his imprinting on Edward meant that he couldn't Bella because that would hurt Edward.
The letter... what was inside of it? A final farewell? An admission of love or affection? A plea for forgiveness?
Carlisle had no idea, and he knew that it wasn't his place to open that letter. It was clearly addressed to Edward, and it was certainly meant to be delivered to the bronze-haired vampire's hands to be opened and read. Whatever words Jacob had penned to the vampire, they were obviously meant for him and him alone, and that was something that Carlisle couldn't trespass upon.
He had a sinking feeling in his stomach that more tragedy loomed on the horizon.
Alice had taken over looking after Bella, the two of them had always been close, but lately there had been signs showing that they were maybe meant to be closer then just friends. That was a good thing, Carlisle told himself, it meant that no matter how this whole tragedy worked out, Bella would have someone there to cling to and help her through her time of grieving.
The letter that Jacob had written to Edward weighted Carlisle down. He hadn't given it to Edward, but had taken it with him without telling anyone, and had tucked it into one of the many drawers of his desk. He was careful not to think about it whenever Edward was nearby. The time just didn't seem right.
Jacob's funeral was in a few days. Everyone who had known him was in shock, even the Cullens, and the funeral was open to everyone. Carlisle was surprised that the invitation had been extended to his family as well, but he wasn't going to ask any questions.
It hurt to know, though, that the most miraculous things could happen in such a dark and dreary time. But it also pained Carlisle much then it should to know that an imprinting between a wolf and one of them could happen and work out.
Seth's imprinting on Jasper had been completely unexpected but no one said a word about it in a negative sense; not at a time when everyone was grieving the loss of a young man who'd had a full and happy life ahead of him. Their love would have to wait for to unfold, because both of them were such shattered souls. Seth for the loss of someone who'd been like an older brother for him; Jasper for his own sins and because of the pain that Seth felt. Jasper felt Seth's pain as acutely as he could feel his own.
Carlisle had hope and faith for them, he knew that they'd make it work somehow.
The day of the funeral dawned dark and dreary, raining heavily. It was fitting weather, like the skies had decided to extend their own grief for Jacob's death. It was ironic, because everyone who spoke at the funeral said that Jacob had been like a sun, lighting the way for those around him and brightening up their lives with his humor and just his very presence. It made the truth very hard to deal with.
When the last bit of dirt had been shovelled into place over Jacob's coffin, the rain had finally let up, Carlisle knew what he had to do.
Edward stared at the grave with an empty and unreadable look on his face, and Carlisle knew that whatever was in the letter would change it. Slowly, he walked up to his adopted son, everyone else trickling out of the graveyard, the service over, to return to the Black household. Edward and Carlisle were the last ones to be left in the silent stretch of land, Bella having left with Alice.
"Edward," Carlisle began slowly.
The young vampire turned, and held out his hand, "You didn't tell anyone about it, even me who it was addressed to. Why?"
"It was never the right time," Carlisle replied. "I couldn't give it to you when anyone else was around, because I don't know what Jacob wrote to you."
The envelope was placed in Edward's hands, and Carlisle turned away, his steps and posture stiff. He had his own suspicions about what that envelope contained, but he wasn't about to express them openly in a graveyard where anyone could hear them. This was out of his hands now.
If you had anything to do with this, Edward, then you have innocent blood on your hands.
Edward waited until Carlisle's thoughts had faded away into the background, and all his sixth sense gave him was silence. He turned his attention to the envelope in his hands.
It was plain, white and clean, the stark appearance broken up by his name scrawled in black ink across the front of it. The seal on the back hadn't been broken, backing up Carlisle's claim to not having had opened it yet. Edward couldn't believe that he'd ever harboured such thoughts about his adoptive father, but he shoved those thoughts from his mind and focused on the envelope that he held in his hands.
Breaking the seal, Edward eased the envelope open, and slipped out a single piece of white paper. Unfolding it, Edward began to read.
A short paragraph note greeted Edward, and he felt his still heart begin to break and snap in places.
'I can't be what you want, you've already found the love of your life, and it's not me. Maybe writing this is selfish of me, making you suffer and hurting you, but I... I just couldn't do this without knowing that I'd said goodbye to you. I want to apologize too.'
His throat tightened as he read that, and a pressure started to build up behind his eyes from the tears that wouldn't ever fall. Somehow, that made all of it worse.
'I think the worst thing is that I'll never get to know you, to experience any love from you. I know that you hate me, but that doesn't change the fact that I'd have been completely devoted to you, and making you happy is all I want. But I know that I'm not what you want or need, it's better this way.'
Edward froze at that.
It's better this way.
No, no it wasn't. This shouldn't have been how it turned out. Nothing like this was ever supposed to happen, not to Jacob, not to someone who had been dragged into this whole 'mortal enemies' feud because of something that he couldn't change about himself. Sure, Edward hadn't liked the werewolves, but that didn't mean that he hated them. If Jacob had only come to him with this, then they could have worked this out. There was never any reason to take one's own life.
All of the possibilities of a future that would never be crashed into Edward's mind, and he could see that he'd have been happy, which only made everything worse.
I could've been happy, happier then I am now.
Cracks were showing in his so-called 'perfect life' with Bella, and now they were ripped wide open and there was a rift between them that neither of them would ever be able to cross. But now that a happy ending was dangling out of his reach, it only made his situation seem more and more worse.
And then, his heart was ripped out of his chest.
Falling to his knees, Edward was completely unaware of how desolate and lost to desperation he looked. Tears streaked down his cheeks, falling at long last as the last last remnants of his self fell away, lost forever to the forces of knowing that he'd never experience a love that was meant to be.
The tears he shed were red like the blood that they were.
Not exactly where I wanted to end it, but this was sort of like how this fic was originally supposed to end but I decided that I wanted it to have more of a happy ending. The bonus lemon part will be out next, and then this fic will be finished.
Alright, and this is really starting to piss me off. If you like the fic enough to favorite it or alert it, then the least you could do is leave a damn review, okay? It's starting to piss me off when people just fav or alert, and don't leave me any sort of feedback. I'm not going to be picky, just a short 'I like it' would suffice. You just feel like people can't be bothered to review something that you worked hard on, maybe because they feel it's a waste of their time or something, whatever; it doesn't take you long to type up a few words. So just review when you fav or alert.
!!! IMPORTANT NOTE !!! Recently it was brought to my attention that this fic had been stolen by an unsavory individual on this site. Now, the situation has been resolved and the fic in question was taken down - even though they refuse to admit to being at fault or stealing my work - so the situation was resolved without my having to get too involved.
Since this is the second time that I have had a fic of mine stolen, I am making a plea to all of you. If you ever come across a fic that sounds suspiciously like one of mine, then go right ahead and let me know. I'll look into it, and if it's true, then I will take action in order to try and correct it. If you want to send the person a PM or something on your own, then that's fine too. Just try to be polite about it, okay? I don't want any of you getting into trouble with the site admin for defending me and my work.
Thank you to those of you who brought this to my attention and an even bigger thank you to those of you who sent this person PMs about the matter. I really am in your debt. Thank you all so much.