Disclaimer: Twilight and all characters herein belong to Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement intended.

"One, two, three….breathe," Jacob takes a deep breath and repeats, "One, two, three…..breathe, damnit!" He continues to try to force Bella's unwilling heart to beat in a steady rhythm.

Somewhere behind him he hears the blond leech say that the baby, that killer, isn't breathing either. The emotions that trickle through Jacob at that statement are completely indefinable, especially in this moment that his love's life force is slipping away under his now useless hands.

"Keep you mouth shut, Rosalie, she'll hear you!" Edward hisses in hushed tones that are not recognizable to a human ear. Jacob glances at him long enough to see that the burning of his soul has manifested into something almost tangible, and is now attempting to suffocate them both. "Leave the room, NOW!" The urgency in his tone can not be argued with, and Rosalie silently makes her exit.

Edward turns his onyx eyes on Jacob, and with fierceness that drips venom demands, "Don't you fucking stop, Jacob Black!"

"Wasn't planning on it," he replies with equal fervor.

Jacob takes in the macabre scene that is unfolding so swiftly. He gathers it's only been ten minutes since Bella let out that horrifying scream which was promptly followed by blood streaming from her mouth like lava from a volcano. Her limp form, now naked and torn open in the middle, is splayed before him like a rag doll, and for one instant, he thinks about that game "OPERATION" he played as a kid. He was now unquestionably losing.

Edward, hearing Jacob's thoughts, growls, and the young werewolf lets out a maniacal chuckle as tears begin sliding down his flushed cheeks. He knows that his sanity is wearing thin, and more than suspects the same of the man in front of him.

"One, two, three….breathe," Jacob continues chanting his mantra, while the vampire plunges a syringe of his venom into Bella's heart. The younger man is losing hope, and feels that this last attempt is useless. Edward reads the thoughts--the doubts--that Jacob is having and growls once more.

Jacobs' eyes trail down his arms to his hands which are beginning to slip in the blood and sweat that has gathered over Bella's exposed sternum. He feels her heart beat once, then again, and then—nothing. He stops his compressions and Edward snarls, "I thought you weren't fucking stopping, dog!" Then he roughly shoves Jacob away, takes his place, and tries to use his physical strength to urge Bella back to her body.

Taking a few steps backwards, Jacob feels a strange disconnect from what is happening—what has happened—until he focuses on Edward's pained expression. The vampire's brow is tightly furrowed, and he is sobbing tearlessly, unable to get the physical release that weeping would bring.

Suddenly, Jacob feels that burning rush of loss and heartbreak he has unknowingly been anticipating for almost a month; a feeling so excruciating in its intensity that his legs no longer hold him and he falls heavily to the floor.

Barely supported by his hands and knees, Jacob's nose is almost to the floor. He notices a drop of Bella's blood already starting to congeal. Salt water is flowing freely from his eyes now. The drops roll off his face and mingle with the drying blood making it shine in the bright lights overhead.

Everything becomes too much for Jacob as he slowly rises to his feet, and once more shifts his gaze to Edward; Edward who is still attempting to make life where there is none.

The wolf places his large, bloodied hand on the paler man's shoulder, "Edward," he whispers, as he knows the man will be quick to anger. Never pausing, the vampire continues his ministrations. "Edward," Jacob's voice rises, "It's done. It's finished. She's dead." The finality of that statement causes a wave of sickness to course through the young man. The only thing keeping him from being physically ill is the feeling of cool marble skin beneath his overheated palm.

"I just have to get the venom circulating!" Edward wails out desperately. "The change just has to start and she will be back with us…back with me!"


"Shut your filthy mouth, mongrel," Edward spits out, leaving Jacob with his mouth agape. He holds both hands out, palms up, letting Edward know he will no longer attempt to stop him. Jacob backs out of the room slowly, his dead best friend's empty expression while her husband works over her tirelessly is burned, branded, and seared into his thoughts. He blinks and it is etched in his eyelids.

Once in the hallway, Jacob's brain becomes a dizzying, chaotic mess. His entire future that he once saw with Bella was completely decimated in a maelstrom of blood and gore. No more laughs, tender smiles, or small palms in his. Her mahogany eyes and chestnut hair are now stained red, and that is all he knows of her.

Jacob has the utmost confusing emotions exploding inside of him like fireworks: anger, sorrow, love, hate, but oddly enough, a sense of camaraderie. Jacob and Edward both love Bella, and Bella is dead. That suffering was now a second thing they share.

Looking around him, Jacob becomes overwhelmingly claustrophic. The walls of this mansion are closing in on him and he needs out... He needs to run and breathe fresh air. He bolts down the stairs reaching the bottom within seconds. He opens the front door without a thought of stopping until he hears Rosalie's voice chime, "It was a girl. She was lovely. S-She never took a breath…"

Jacob hesitates for a miniscule second, and without turning around or acknowledging her, leaves the Cullen house.

He phases and he runs. He does not look back.


Edward perches on the rooftop of the Cullen's home, curling into himself like a caveman protecting his possessions. It is his dead heart that he guards now.

It seems as though anguish has sculpted permanent furrows onto Edward's marble face that not even Michelangelo could repair.

Tilting his head slightly up and to the side, Edward looks towards the wan moon, and is reminded of Bella's alabaster skin. The vampire audibly moans as he remembers the rush of her blood filling those sweet apples of her cheeks, and his thoughts turn swiftly to that same ambrosia spilling on his hands, his face, to the floor…

Edwards gathers himself closer, and allowing his eyes to slide shut, relives the conversation he had with Charlie Swan a few hours prior. He traveled to the Chief's house to deliver the news in person; he felt he owed it to the man.

Charlie had answered the door after three knocks. Edward had to concentrate to keep from denting the wood with his stone knuckles.

"Edward?" Charlie asked, "What's going on? Where's Bells?" He pursed his lips, his eyes widened in alarm. "Why aren't you with her?"

Edward blinked several times as though his body remembered that that was the point at which he would be attempting to hold back tears. He tried to urge the words that needed to be spoken past his frozen lips, but he knew once he verbalized them they would be cemented in reality just as surely as Bella's name would be etched on her tombstone.

Edward could hear the panic overtaking Charlie's thoughts, and balked at the knowledge that he would be the one to confirm this man's worst fears.

"Charlie," Edward kept his tone low, "Bella is gone. She…." He had to pause because his voice shook with unbridled emotions he failed to rein in. His thoughts fleetingly went to Jasper, and the vampire wished his brother were with him. "Bella is dead. The disease she contracted while on our honeymoon put too much strain on her heart, and it just stopped. Her body is being flown back from Atlanta as soon as the CDC releases her," Edward finally finished in clipped staccato vocals.

Charlie Swan appeared to have aged a decade in the few moments it took Edward to relay the story. His crestfallen countenance took away chunks of Edward's composure leaving him feeling naked and vulnerable. He felt he was encroaching on a private sorrow that no one was meant to witness.

"I loved her so much Charlie," Edward sounded like a little boy, begging for understanding and compassion. Not a word had escaped the police chief's mouth, although he continued to open and close it, his breath coming in and out in sharp pants. Edward heard his thoughts as though they were on repeat… my baby, my girl, so little time I had her….

Edward's heart threatened to rupture like an infected blister that could only hold itself together so long once pressure was applied.

Charlie reached out towards Edward and grabbed him at the apex of his shoulder and neck, leaving his hand resting there for an immeasurable amount of time before roughly pulling him into an awkward embrace. Bella's father allowed a few tears to escape and Edward felt their warm wetness soak through his shirt, thoughts once again drifting to his wife's humanity and how violently it was stripped.

Edward refocused on Charlie. "Come in, son, I-I guess we need to talk about some things," Charlie stated laconically. From his thoughts Edward could tell that Charlie wished he could blame him, but couldn't bring himself to after seeing Edward's desperate stare.

If only he knew, Edward thought, his self loathing multiplied tenfold. I not only robbed him of his daughter, but he'll never know of beautiful, tiny Renesmee, his only grandchild. I am monstrous.

Edward followed Charlie indoors, but before the door closed he heard a howl, thought of Jacob, and remembered the covenant the wolf made pending Bella's death to end the vampire's wicked life.

Edward comes back to the present, and begins thinking of Renesmee. Bella fought so bravely so that she could live, but in the end it was despoiled. Both lives gone, snuffed out. In a world of black and white, Bella would have given birth in a hospital surrounded by loved ones, her exquisite baby would live, and they would all be rejoicing in new life. Instead the world is gray, fairy tales and monsters are real, and they are both dead. Edward is alone.

The light breeze that has been whispering through the trees picks up, and Edward smells the oncoming storm as the first drops softly splatter the already damp earth. He holds his arms straight out from his sides and wishes, not for the first time, that his body was as brittle as clay that could crumble and shatter. If that were the case he would've already flung himself off this roof a thousand times and finished his miserable existence.

He knows his end is coming though, and soon, in the form of Jacob Black. It is approaching time for the wolf to make good on his promise.


Bella's service is short, yet every moment is like twisting a knife in Edward's stomach.

Charlie wanted a small graveside service with only family and close friends, and Edward couldn't have agreed more. They had also agreed on a closed casket, citing Bella's emaciated state from the "disease" as a reason. The Cullen's know, however, the real reason was because baby Renesmee is tucked safely in her mother's arms. It is to be a double funeral, but few know this.

On Bella's left hand she wears her wedding band as well as the lovely antique engagement ring that had belonged to Edward's mother. On her right wrist is clasped the charm bracelet given to her by Jacob. The tiny wolf so delicately crafted with the care only a man in love can emanate is joined by the cold diamond heart that was Edward's addition. Around her neck is a simple white gold chain with an oval charm resting over her once beating heart that reads, "Life ends, but love is eternal."

All the thoughts of his fellow mourners make Edward feel uncomfortable, as though his head could be too full and burst at the seams like an overstuffed toy. He doesn't hear what the minister says over the din of noise reverberating off his skull.

When the coffin begins to lower the sky opens up, and Edward's attention is centered on the wooden box while the clouds cry for him; the downpour only a drop in an ocean of the tears he would shed were he able.

Meet me later? Edward hears that internal voice that he has been hoping for. It is Jacob Black. Edward meets his eyes and nods quickly. Two hours? At the boundary line? Jacob thinks. Edward nods again. Jacob Black could never be accused of being verbose.

Relief washes through the vampire like a baptism. Jacob has remembered his promise and soon Edward Cullen will feel the soothing balm of death.


Edward approaches the meeting spot and prepares himself to meet oblivion. Jacob has already arrived. The werewolf's thoughts are relatively silent which is a change compared to the normally biting remarks the vampire is subjected to.

Twilight is approaching, and the rain is still falling steadily. Under the canopy of trees barely any light filters through, and they are somewhat sheltered from the elements. Edward notices this and wishes--for just a moment--that he could feel the warmth of the sun once more before he reaches his end. He quickly remembers that this is not a luxury which he deserves.

The vampire knows that if his heart were alive, it would be racing now. He would not admit it aloud, but he is frightened of what comes after this life. He does not want to live it anymore, not without Bella, but what if there is nothing? Continuing on, enjoying life, really existing, is no longer an option he feels worthy of. No, he can't back out of this, no matter his fears. The chance that he might meet Bella in the afterlife was worth the threat of an eternity of emptiness.

Edward comes to the clearing and stands directly in front of the imposing form of Jacob Black. He is thoroughly drenched and wearing his usual attire or torn sweat pants and nothing else. Edward tries to look anywhere but the younger man's face, because in these last few moments of existence, Edward does not want to see the hate he knows the werewolf holds for him.

"You have come because you remember the deal that you made with me, yes?" Edward states, easily hiding the fear that is slowly causing a lump to form in his throat.

"I do remember, Edward, but..."

"Do you plan on keeping your word?" Edward asks plainly. It does not go unnoticed to him that Jacob has called him by his given name. Hearing him speak it makes Edward uneasy. It makes this too personal.

Edward hears Jacob think as clearly as though he'd spoken out loud, I understand the desire you have to be dead; I just can't be the one to do it…

"But, why? My heart is tearing me apart! I feel like it's trying to claw its way out, and I need to let it!" Edward is speaking without thought now. The line between sanity and chaos is being blurred.

"Just stop a minute, would you? I can't…"

"NO!" Edward cuts him off abruptly, "You hate me! This is what I need. It is what you were made for, to kill leeches—parasites—like me! Kill me, Jacob Black, and make things right. I loved her and it killed her."

Bella... She would never forgive me for killing you, Jacob thought. "I-I d-don't hate you anymore, Edward. That feeling died when she did," he says in barely audible tones. The vampire is shaken, but not ready to give up on his request.

"I am not above forcing your hand, you dirty mutt!" Edward has resorted to name calling, attempting to provoke an attack. He knows that Jacobs temper is generally uncontrollable, and is relying on that now. "You stupid mangy dog! Flea infested mutt! What the hell are you good for if it's not to destroy vampires? Do you want me to tell you about all the people I've killed? I know each and every name, each of their stories I can share with you." Edward drops into a predatory crouch hoping to bring forth the instinctive shift the werewolf needs in order to destroy him. Edwards notices that Jacob is not even trembling--as would be common if the phase were imminent.

Jacob does not phase, but forcefully shoves the vampire into a tree which trembles upon impact. He roughly holds Edward by the throat and screams, "I loved her, too! Damn, Edward, don't you know that? She was like air, or water, or food. I can't breathe or think without her! I know, Edward! I know more than anyone else ever could how much you want to die!" Jacob stops to take in a shallow breath and continues, "She doesn't want you dead, so neither do I. She loved you, and so will I." Jacob finishes his lament and slowly shrivels to the ground bringing Edward with him.

Edward's world shifts and suddenly the only thing tying him here is Jacob Black. He finally raises his face and meets the young man's eyes and sees not the hate he expected, but a look so tender that his body shudders. Jacob pulls Edward into a fierce embrace, pressing his chest against the vampire's impossibly hard, frozen one.

Something has shifted for Jacob as well; Edward can read it vaguely from his thoughts. The wolf places his hot cheek against Edward's, and shares his tears with him. I know you can't cry, but I can do it for you… And Edward lets him.

Edward's hands travel up the bare back of the werewolf and he tangles them in his shaggy black hair. He pulls Jacob's face back and looks into his obsidian eyes once more and sees the new longing there. We both want to feel something different Jacob thinks. Edward takes this as consent and gently places his ice cold lips to Jacob's fiery ones. The spark is instantaneous.

What started as a tentative whisper of two sets of lips quickly turns to passion as Jacob's large hands find their way into Edward's mess of bronze hair deepening the kiss. Edward responds in kind crushing his lips to Jacob's, something primal taking the place of any propriety they once adhered to. Edward is not afraid to let his overwhelming need take control because Jacob will not break.

Roughly, Jacob pushes Edward to the damp ground, taking the dominant position. He places himself between Edward's long, lean legs and lets his full weight rest on the vampire. The moment their mutual arousals are pressed together through their clothing, they both moan. Fire meets ice.

Edward is almost dizzy with want as Jacob begins unbuttoning his shirt revealing, inch by inch, his perfectly sculpted chest. The wolf ghosts his fingertips over Edward's nipples causing warmth to spread throughout his frigid body. For a moment he almost feels human.

Edward bucks his hips into Jacob's stiff cock seeking more friction. He can read Jacob's thoughts, he knows what he wants to do to him, and his erection is nearly painful because of it.

The moon has fully risen now, and the rain has stopped. Edward's body is luminescent in the light of the full moon, lying wantonly against the bracken. Jacob thinks on how beautiful he is and Edward whispers, "I am nothing but a mangy, flea–infested mongrel next to you," Edward pauses to take a ragged breath, "It is because of you that I remain here at all."

Jacob kisses Edward with renewed vigor, as he unbuttons Edwards's trousers and begins pulling them away. Edward obligingly lifts his hips so that Jacob can free him. Jacob's pants are the only thing separating them now. Edward makes quick work of them, and the werewolf's stiff member springs free. They are both fully exposed.

They cling to each other once more as their now unclothed cocks slide together. Jacob's lips leave Edward's only to make a trail of fire down his throat, to his sensitive nipples, taking one in his mouth and sucking fervently. Edward cannot stop the gasp that passes through his lips, and he breathes in sharply through his nose, inhaling Jacob's musky scent of arousal. Having a part of his body in Jacob's mouth is nearly overwhelming in its heat, and Edward swears a flush rises in his cheeks.

Jacob's hand is now gripping both their erections pumping slowly and torturously. Edward's hands are splayed on Jacob's back, his fingernails digging into the flesh of his buttocks. "Fuck," Jacob swears as Edward breaks skin, but Edward knows it is pleasure, not pain, that caused the utterance.

Edward hitches one of his legs around Jacob's hip to gain more friction in an attempt to satisfy his need. His turgid cock is weeping venom all over both men's stomachs allowing them to move like a well-oiled machine. Jacob takes the opportunity to slide a single digit into Edward's frozen opening.

Edward melts at the contact, and begins writhing with the fluidity and fervor of a river after a spring thaw. Edward feels as though he will explode right then. It takes extreme will power and focus to keep from going over the edge. Jacob inserts a second finger and finds Edward's sensitive mound and begins massaging it soundly.

The heat that Jacob exudes fills Edward from the bottom of his feet to the tips of his fingers, and he is reminded of being human and sitting in front of a hearth warmed by fire after a cold, windy, Chicago day.

Can I…..?

"Yes……please…..yes," Edward answers the unspoken question.

Jacob removes his fingers and places his member at Edward's entrance. He meets the vampire's lust filled gaze and kisses him deeply once more with his pink swollen lips, while slowly thrusting into him.

The moment that Jacob is fully seated inside of him, Edward cries out with the fullness of it. His heart, his black soul, and his body are all overflowing with the tenderness with which this man is taking him.

Jacob gathers him up and holds him close as he begins making love to him. The werewolf is loving the vampire and clutching him near to his heart as Edward now straddles his lap.

The heat of Jacob's skin meeting the cold temperature of Edward's causes a cloud of steam to rise over their coupling, shielding them from the outside as they continue to thrust and moan. All the loss, all the sorrow and pain ebbs away in the cleansing fog, and all they see and feel is each other.

Jacob grabs Edward's cock and begins to pump furiously as his hips begin to move faster. Edward feels Jacob inside of him hitting that bundle of nerves over and over again, and he knows he will not be much longer.

Jacob throws Edward to his back again without missing a beat, and continues giving the vampire everything he has.

Edward hears the wolf's thoughts as the pleasure is overpowering. Come with me… he thinks, while he screams "Edward!" as he spills his seed inside the vampire. Seeing Jacob in such ecstasy is enough to send Edward reeling as his own release overpowers him. All of his senses are deadened by the force of his orgasm, and colors burst in front of his eyes. His body quakes and he moans uncontrollably as Jacob milks him for every last drop, his release cool and sticky all over both men.

Jacob collapses on top of Edward, placing soft kisses on every inch of skin he comes into contact with. Edward smiles at the warmth and wraps his arms around the young man.

As they both slowly come down from their euphoria, Edward hears Jacob's thoughts clearly,

I may not be able to fix you, but I can make you not so broken.

Edward believes him.

Author's note: Please leave me some feedback! This is my first fanfic, as well as the first writing I've done in a good 8 years, so please let me know how you liked it!