This has been playing in my mind for some time- it's pro Jacob, I know, but it's a one shot all human fanfiction. Enjoy. :)
In a distant world I remember as childhood, Jacob was always my guardian, seemingly without regard for his own safety; it had always escaped me why he had the need to defend me. Many psychiatrists said it was because of my presence during his hard time, but to me, it seemed to run much deeper. His sisters were there too, and anyone could see the difference. But just what that was, eluded me.
When I was four, my Dad, Charlie, gained custody of me; thus I started my life in the bleak and cold Forks. However, I never noticed, I had Jake's optimism to light my way; I vaguely recalled all the times we'd played house- I was the wife, and he was the husband. Back then, it seemed natural. I would stand, tiny and proud, in my Little Tikes kitchen set, with a polka dotted dress, and bright white apron, making plastic, rubbery chicken and corn, for when my pretend husband would stop playing Nintendo. He would come, after winning a game, in one of his Dad's much too long ties, and enormous, shining black shoes, and a large, leather suitcase. He would say, "Honey, I'm home," boisterously. And every single time, you could hear his mother's musical laughter ring off the walls like church bells on a beautiful Sunday morning. I loved her, my mother was in Arizona, so she was my substitute, I supposed you could say.
She would make us peanut butter and banana sandwiches everyday-yet, it never got old. I never truly appreciated the love and care she put into her cooking; only one more regret I bared on my back. Soon after, we'd go outside to play with Quil and Embry; to play castle- (me being the damsel in distress, them fighting each other) or race. Jacob would carry me on his back, Quil would be stuck carrying Embry on his back, to be fair; we always won. Jake had insisted it was because Embry was heavier, but I knew, in the back of my head, he would have won every time no matter how heavy the load. Jacob had radiated that type of charisma.
Some nights, we'd go back to my house-for hide and seek and ice-cream; Charlie was never much of a cook, so ice cream was an easy solution to that roadblock.
Everything was perfect.
Until the accident.
Although my other childhood memories had faded in my mind, this particular one was forever singed into my psyche, an unhealable wound. We had all gone to the movies, to see the Lion King; Jacob and I had been having way too much fun. Just as they were leaving, I remember breaking down crying, crying for Jacob; so, in an effort to shut me up, Aunt Sarah and Uncle Billy let Jacob ride with me and Charlie, and have a sleep over. The look of pure happiness and euphony on Jake's face, and in his eyes, was a look that would disappear for a long time before returning.
I was so young- we were so young. Drowning in our own naïve bliss, we never suspected what would crash upon us. Well, on him. We never suspected, that this would be the last time we would see Mrs. Sarah; alive, anyway. Her painfully beautiful face was forever a reminder of our loss in my brain.
We'd fallen asleep in the car, I had rested my head on his shoulder as the blur of the town's lights passed by the windows, Jake resting his head on my own; Charlie took a picture. I didn't know where that was now, probably in an old photo album in some storage compartment. When we arrived at my house, Charlie woke us up for ice cream, and of course, we leapt up excitedly.
Charlie got out his camcorder, as we laughed happily, eating our ice cream; then, the phone rang. It rang high and shrill, it rang for a long time. Then, Charlie picked it up. I didn't care, Jake and I were having way to much fun.
Charlie returned, with the grimmest, most disturbed, devastated look on his face; I recall being confused at his sadness. "What's wrong, Daddy?" I said in my soprano trill. He didn't speak. He only collected us in the car and took us to the hospital; both of us had been puzzled- puzzled and beautifully ignorant.
That's where it all fell apart.
On the way home, they'd been hit head on by a sleepy, semi truck driver; Billy got his legs smashed, Mrs. Sarah… long story short, the windshield is what ended it. When they first got married, they hadn't had much money, so they had to spring for a car with no passenger side air bags. Billy always regretted it after that night.
I had been exhausted, but the news crashed upon me so hard, I thought I would never sleep again; I stayed in shock as Charlie put Jacob right beside me on the waiting room chairs, where I stayed stagnant, and Jacob sobbed mournfully into my shoulder. I let a few tears slip, but never a full out crying jag; in all the years I knew Jacob, I'd never seen him more devastated and heartbroken than this night. It made me want to die, seeing him in so much pain. But, I had no clue how to comfort him. How do you comfort someone who just lost their mother? It was a booboo you couldn't kiss and put a Band-Aid on.
Yet, throughout that entire, nightmarish, hellish night, Jacob never let go of me; he cried and hiccupped on my shoulder until the cows came home. I never dreamed of pushing him away.
At the funeral a few months later, Jacob sat next to me, with a dead look in his young eyes, I remember taking his hand in my own, for once, his skin was almost as pale as mine. He was going to go look at his mother, in the casket, but I stayed behind, feeling sick; unbelievably, he noticed I wasn't going, so he stayed. I had urged him to go, but he refused. I should have taken that as a hint, but in that rough time, and in my youth, I dismissed it.
Jacob became catatonic. He stopped speaking altogether. I begged for him to talk again, but he stayed as stoic, with an adult look in his eyes, like he'd just seen hell. Like he'd been stripped of his innocence.
After that, Billy seemed dead since he was condemned to a wheel chair, and his older sisters ignored me as if I didn't exist- the psychiatrists said it was shock, but I had a feeling they always held a slight disdain for me.
But, I persisted; I came over every single day after school; to just be there. Sometimes, during our sleepovers, he'd start screaming and sobbing in his dreams (the only time he would say anything); not knowing what to do, I'd just rock him back and forth, holding him close to me. It killed me to see him in so much pain- even as a child. So I would just hold him as he would sink back into a peaceful sleep, and I might even hold him all night (getting no sleep myself), just to make sure he wouldn't have to suffer through the pain for one more night; to hold it off as long as I could.
Jacob still stayed unresponsive in consciousness.
This worked for a while, and things were going smoothly, but as we hit third grade, things got…complicated. I recall playing in the sandbox at recess once, when Mike Newton came by and took my shovel, I cried and told him to give it back, but he held it out of my arms reach.
Thus, I slapped him, which, consequently, isn't the brightest thing to do to a third grade boy. He punched me, and I fell back into the sand, rubbing my head. I expected to just get up and go tell a teacher, but before I knew it, Mike was being tackled fiercely to the ground by a building sized Jacob; I stared in awe as Jacob finally showed emotion, and broke his mask. But, it had horrified me. Although Jacob was responding, it was if a monster had been released, the look of pure hate burning in his black eyes as he punched Mike, pierced through me straight to my heart. To make matters worse, kids started to crowd around to encourage them, Mike's face was bloody and bruised, he tried fighting back, but Jacob was too much for him.
I did the only thing I could think of. I ran through the group of onlookers and wrapped my arms around Jake's waist, like I did when he awoke screaming, and held myself there. Somehow, I didn't care if I got hurt, I just needed him to stop. Like a switch, magically, he stopped at my touch, he finally looked at me. His angry eyes, were streaming red hot tears, I squeezed harder. He stepped away from Mike, took my hand and walked away. I let out a sigh of relief and horror. This scared me silly; I'd never known Jacob to be this violent.
Charlie and Billy grew worried. Getting in fights was a bad thing in a small, gossipy town like this. Jacob didn't return to his unresponsive state-thankfully, and I had a new respect for him. I never imagined any boy doing that for me. The teachers came to take him to the principal's office- and I did something I never thought myself capable to do. I lied. I lied thoroughly. "Mike started it, he hurted me, then he hurted Jacob." Me being such a good student, the teachers didn't blink twice before releasing him back and suspending Mike. I'd felt dirty afterward, until Jacob had given me the biggest, most emotion filled embrace I'd ever received; my guilt had melted away.
Charlie suggested a martial arts class, at first Billy didn't like it, but he gave in; I joined with him, because of the terrified look in his eyes when he found out he would be going alone. I failed miserably, the sensei just sighed and put me in the back; but Jacob- oh Jacob he breezed through that class with flying colors. Soon enough, he didn't depend on me. I didn't know how I felt about that, I selfishly yearned for his need. But, back then I had no idea what that meant.
Without me needing to be there, I quit. I still came by, and we played happily with all the boys in La Push, he was alive again.
Everything finally got back to some form of normalcy.
Until we hit puberty.
When we got to middle school, holding hands in public just wasn't acceptable without people jumping to conclusions; when walking around the corner people were…kissing. But Jacob didn't care; he hugged me after classes every day, without any regard for anyone else. We knew it was a purely friendship relationship…but others didn't. I was shocked though, Jake never got disgusted with me as I went through zits, B.O., and…the dot. He was there when I first got it too, I've never seen that boy so horrified in his entire life. Sex Education was the most awkward thing in the world. We had the same class too. Every time the teacher stuttered and said something embarrassing, Jake and I would exchange a blushed glance.
One day, Jacob took me outside, when all the La Push gang had left after a day of playing. "When I turn sixteen, Dad won't have the money to get me a car." He mused, his arm rubbing against mine. "I was thinking about building a car, you think I could do it?" He said, we stopped walking, I looked. We were in front of his garage, a whole array of tools were on the table in the back, and the skeleton of the bottom of the car he spoke of, sat comfortably in the center of the garage.
Of course, I couldn't say no, Jacob held such burning determination in his eyes, I knew I couldn't deny him.
When high school rolled around, things were relatively the same, except…Jacob and I had to be split up. I went to Forks High School, and he went to La Push High School; such a pity. But he was impossible to halt, he was like a tornado-you couldn't fight it. If I didn't want to finish my day, Jake would bring his motorcycle (I helped him get it while he finished up the car) by and pick me up; he wouldn't even hesitate, I would just have to text him and he'd ask to go to bathroom. And in fifteen minutes he'd be waiting in the parking lot for me. Some days, he would randomly pop up with McDonalds or KFC. He was my savior from mystery meat and mushy apples. But…I noticed a change, well not really a change, but an intensity of something. He looked at me differently, with an emotion I never had anyone look at me with. I should have taken this as another hint, but my ignorance kept me away from what was now obvious to me. I simply brushed it off.
In his garage, we would sit, listening to music as he fixed up his car. We even made up crazy dances to some songs-getting many laughs from our La Push buddies. I remember he once made us enter the community talent show with one of our dances; maybe if I hadn't been tripping all over him, holding him back, he would have won. He never grew angry at me, he just said, "The judges table was tainted, they just hate us because we're awesome."; he always seemed to be an everlasting aura of sunshine. But suns aren't forever stagnant in our universe.
Once, Nickelback came to Seattle. I'll never forget that day; when Jacob and I were looking for car parts, in the paper it had an advertisement. I'd barely said anything, I just said, 'oh look!' and pointed at it, not expecting anything- just a passive acknowledgment. A week later, I was getting into the school parking lot, when Jake appeared out of nowhere, on his bike; I screamed and stamped on the brake. I got out, prepared to give him an earful, but he just grinned at me; Grabbing me and throwing me on the bike, I yelled, asking where he was taking me. And terrifyingly, he got on the highway, zooming past startled looking drivers as he swerved between the cars. Getting closer to our destination, the roads grew extremely congested, and I knew why he had brought the bike and not the car. He swerved and cut people off until we reached the stadium.
I understood where we were going when I saw the colossal sign; I almost cried in excitement; he would just beam at me as if to say, 'did I do good?'. I was all grins as he handed the man our tickets, I clung to his muscular arm as I was thrust around by crazy fans; I couldn't believe he would do something so sweet. Well, I could believe it, I just should have seen it coming.
Getting to our seats, I could see people a whole head taller than me standing up crazily as the lights went down, I sighed disappointedly, I wouldn't be able to see a thing. I weathered through though, straining my neck to see just a glimpse of the band. Jacob was singing boisterously along, as I tried to follow, I just didn't know the words very well. When If Today Was Your Last Day came on, I felt, big strong, hands come around my waist, I knew it was Jake, but I was confused as to what he was doing. And, in one quick, swift motion, I was lifted up onto his shoulders. 'Jacob!' I screamed as I was balanced way above everyone's head, I clawed at his head. 'Let me down!' I'd screeched, what if I fell on these people? Lawsuit. But he refused to let me down, he held me bravely on his shoulders, I was still having a complete mental breakdown when I saw Jacob's hand point to the lead singer.
As he sang, I made eye contact and I knew he was singing to me, for those few insignificant moments; I shrieked like a tween and covered my mouth with my hand. After that I started really enjoying myself- singing along with Jacob, screaming loudly into the crowd. That's the only time I can remember truly letting go in front of people, and not just Jake. The song matched him so well. He really did live in the moment constantly.
My prom rolled around, and I refused to go, knowing Jacob, I expected a big protest, however I never received one. It bewildered me, but I didn't fight it. I should have noticed something was wrong, but I had ignored it. On the day of prom, Jake came by in a tux holding a long, deep blue, sparkling dress (obviously his sister had picked it out), elegant and stunning he threw it at me. "Put it on, we're going to prom." He hadn't phrased it as a question. I yelled, fake cried, threatened, bribed, even begged, but he never budged. So, vengefully I threw it on, and walked out. And, out of nowhere, Charlie popped out with a camera. He took a picture of Jake and I hugging, I tried to look happy, but I was dying inside, wanting to give him a good punch in the gut. That picture is probably with that first one. With my clumsy demeanor, I anticipated me flying all over the gym floor, spraying my blood on everyone as I found impossible ways to fall like in a cartoon. Yet, I never so much as stumbled, Jake held me bravely.
Finally it was, my graduation, I was saddened deeply, and so was Jacob. I expected him not to come, out of his mourning, but I should have expected he would be there. And with bells on too. As I stepped on stage, (tripping I might add) as soon as the principal said, "Isabella Swan", a loud chorus of howls, cheers, and aerosol horn blows sounded through the auditorium. I automatically recognized Jacob, Quil, Embry, and the rest of the gang. I blushed crimson, grabbed my diploma, and all but ran off stage. It would have been just one of their crazy antics if security hadn't arrested them. I was thankful that my father was Chief of Police or else they would have slept there all night; Jake never regretted it though.
I never knew how much he really meant to me, he had seemed like such an invincible, unbreakable force; you know how the old saying goes. You never know what you have…until its gone.
It was a warm, sunny, July day; one of the few sunny days a year. It was the day before I was supposed to leave for Dartmouth-Jake was getting his grades up to come join me in a year, but we were both heartbroken about being separated. Jacob's ideas were usually great, but…nobody is perfect. On that day, the sun had set a fun, happy atmosphere, as if nothing could go wrong. Embry had his trusty camera with him; he wore it like it was his lifeline, taping anything and everything he could find. I tried to ignore it as Jake sat me on the back of his bike, like he had so many times before. I remember the warmth of his body as I curled my arms around his waist, he started up the bike. It rumbled beneath us, not its usual purr, it resembled a growl; it frightened me.
Before I could protest, he slammed his foot on the gas, and let out his catch phrase wolf howl; the wind hit my face with a thousand tons of sheer force. I tightened my grip around him.
The trees flew past us at dangerous speeds, Jake was going faster than usual, I just guessed he was trying out the dry road; I didn't guess he would falter. I assumed he knew the road, I trusted him completely, gave all of myself and more to him. The psychiatrists said it was just because he wasn't used to the dry road, always having to drive on wet roads, a new environment could throw a person off balance. Or it could have been the wheels or brakes screwing up because of the change. But I didn't believe it. He wasn't just any other person; Jacob wouldn't be so careless, not with me on the back. It was just…a freak accident.
After a while of just riding straight, I noticed something. In the distance a silver guard rail glistened in the new sunlight; although the wind was blowing roughly in my ears, I thought I could hear a muffled gasp.
At that moment of indecision I could sense, the world slowed down, like in the movies. I knew we were moving much too fast for it to be possible, but I could point out particular trees, little woodland creatures stood frozen, staring. They reminded me of bystanders, looking at a disaster unfolding. I waited for him to slow down and turn the handlebars to the left to make the turn, but we stayed straight. Heading toward the treacherous cliff; I could see the head of deep blue seawater on the horizon.
"Jake," I yelled in his ear, but somehow my voice got carried away by the wind. "We need to turn." He never replied. My voice was muffled and slow, like I was underwater. Things took on a dreamlike feeling.
I was suddenly hyper aware of his silence…and how my head had a helmet and his did not; his hair blew wispily back.
"Move your right leg over to the left side." He said tightly, and roughly, with a seriousness I'd never known his voice to have.
"What? Why?" I shrieked in horrifying despair- what was wrong?
"Just do it." He commanded with stern authority. Unwillingly, I brought my right leg up, which suddenly felt like lead, over the seat of the bike. My breathing grew labored as the terrifying horizon drew ever so nearer. If I had known his intentions, I'd have held onto him forever and never let go; I never knew how lost I would be without his natural sunlight constantly radiating from him. Pure horror and desperation enveloped me.
I sat, clinging to him for only a few moments, when, for the first time, he thrust the handlebars left and we were abruptly skidding toward the silvery, deadly guard rail. Except, my legs we on the other side, safely away, while Jake was leaning toward it. Although the noise was deafening with my screams and protests of tires and metal, I could still hear the small, "I love you" that escaped from Jacob just before the bike was slammed into the side. The sheer force of the metal thrust me off the motorcycle backwards.
My body flew over the cliff, and just as I began falling into the choppy waters below, I was able to catch just a glimpse of Jake being smacked into the guard rail. And red. Lots and lots of deep liquid red.
All I remember after that was the feeling of my heart collapsing inside me, like a star going supernova and turning into a black hole. The pain was so much, I felt as if all of me would be sucked into the black unknown. And my weak body being hit with mere physical pain of the icy water of La Push; I remember seeing Jacob next to me, in the water. That's all I remember of that accident.
When waking up in the hospital, Jacob sat next to me, smiling that Jacob-y smile. He had not a scratch on him, he had almost a visible glow to him. "Jacob." I sighed happily, but sluggishly, he placed his hand in mine, I swore, I felt the warmth of his hand in my own. "I'm so glad you're okay, I was so worried-" A nurse had walked in, with a clipboard. "Nurse, can you leave us alone for a minute"' I asked, grinning the whole time. I looked back at Jacob, he was looking at her, with a look that reinforced my statement, cocking an eyebrow.
She stared at me worriedly, walked over and placed her hand on my forehead. I huffed, upset she didn't listen. "Please, we're having a conversation." I pointed to where I knew Jake was sitting, why didn't he say anything? She glanced to where I pointed. "Miss…there's nobody there." She said slowly. I recall thinking was this woman blind? "Well, of course-" my eyes darted back to the chair.
It was empty.
"Jacob? Jacob?" I called, hoping he'd gone to the bathroom or something. "He was just here!"
My dad and another doctor came in and explained that Jacob had passed away. He saved my life that day, I could have been like him. He was gone when they arrived on scene-but I don't believe that. He was there, he wouldn't leave me. He promised he wouldn't. The psychiatrists said, I wanted him to be alive so badly, that my mind played tricks on me; but that's a lie. A dirty, rotten lie. Jake wouldn't leave me, I believe not even death could separate us. He still visits me in my dreams, he keeps me from waking up screaming. He rocks me and holds me at night. Charlie says I'm just sitting there rocking myself, but it's Jacob, it's the only thing I'm sure of.
But his visits are becoming less frequent. The psychiatrists see it as improvement, I see as a step back. He can't just go away like that. I think, that as a child, he thought it was his mother rocking him. But it was me, and he was returning the favor. He wouldn't leave me with a broken heart….I knew he wouldn't.
It's been about a year since then, and the ache still hits me as violently as it did when I woke up in the hospital and was told the news; I feel like I finally realize Jake's pain from when his mother died. I don't go up to La Push anymore, too many memories. I feel empty inside, like I went along with him.
Now as I sit, in the freezing weather, sobbing my eyes out, I'd never felt more alone. I placed a small flower on the grave, and I ghosted my hand over the soil, hoping to feel Jacob in it. Unsuccessfully, I felt nothing. Just as if I were sitting at a strangers' grave. I remember just the way he said, "I love you" that day, and I had finally realized my feeling in that hospital bed. Much too late. All the times I'd told him I only like him as a friend, was a lie. A lie to him, a lie to myself.
I loved him more than anyone has ever loved another person; the worst part, was I'll never be able to tell him I returned his feelings.
"Happy Birthday, Jake."
Thank you for reading