A/N: Story takes place after the end of Eclipse and disregards everything that happened in Breaking Dawn. Italics are Jacob's POV. I'm not sure how long this story will be, but it's shaping up to be more than just a few chapters - anyways, enjoy!

Disclaimer: I disclaim everything you recognize. It does not belong to me.

Betaed by elusivemuse.

One.

I don't know how long I've been running – days, probably. The hours blend together, into a hazy memory of feet hitting the ground and claws tearing through packed dirt, ripping roots out of the earth. My life has become divided into light and darkness; the only distinction I can make amidst the slowly passing time. Although, more often than not, it's the darkness I'm running through, running to. Subconsciously, I must crave it – its cover, its mask, its comfort. I want to feel the darkness, wrap myself up in it. I want it to take over, so I can feel it forever, never worrying about life again.

I want to run forever, but I can't. I can feel my body slowing down, weary, spent. Too weary, too weary to shake the debris from my scruffy fur – a collection it's picked up on my journey, like souvenirs of where I've been. Thorns, twigs, ticks.

Suddenly, the pain comes back – a pain that's completely unrelated to my wasted body and timeworn joints. It bypasses my splintered paws, my burning lungs, my empty stomach, and cuts a straight line down through the heart. Now that I've stopped running, the physical pain has become muted. Without its distraction, the emotional pain runs rampant. All the thoughts, the memories, everything I've been running from comes rushing back into my head. I see her face, hear her laugh, smell her hair…

Bella.

I feel stupid. I feel used.

I want to hate her. I want to be able to say, Fuck you! and get on with my life, but it's not that easy.

I want to despise her, for choosing to be with him, that filthy, bloodsucking creature. He'll ruin her, he'll kill her… or, worse, he'll turn her into one of them. I want to shake her and scream - Bella! You're so stupid! Does she really think she'd be happier dead, without a heartbeat? I want to tell her how stupid that is, but somehow, I find myself feeling the same way.

The memories come back stronger – we're laughing together, I'm holding her hand, we leap off a cliff together. She's beautiful, inside and out, her smile so gentle, so fragile… Then the horror comes back. I see him touching her, him holding her, I hear her crying out his name. I can see the predator in him as he looks at her, tasting her with his eyes. It's so wrong, and I have trouble fighting the bile that begins to rise out of my hollow belly.

Then an image enters my mind – the one I've been trying to escape: She's standing there, in white - beautiful. Beautiful, but hideous. Her skin chalk white, her dull hair shimmering in a way it never used to, and then her face - it's radiant in a way that's inhuman. I try to fight the nightmare, but I can't. The monster in my mind opens its mouth, revealing shiny, pointed, blood-stained…

CRASHHH. A huge tree came down in the forest, scattering bits of bark around as it crushed the soft moss that carpeted the ground. In the narrow shafts of light that streamed through the treetops, clouds of dust, pollen, and impossibly small gnats shimmered as they flew upwards from the fallen tree.

Slowly, the particles drifted back down to the earth to settle into their new surroundings. The forest soon became quiet once again, until the only sound was the heavy panting of a lone wolf. But soon, that too became silent as lupine eyes surveyed the destruction of the small glen.

Jacob didn't mean to do it, but as the thoughts and images of Bella and Edward assaulted his brain, his violent wolf-instincts took over and before he knew it, he had created a small haven of havoc in the peaceful forest. Nature; it was supposed to be his escape – where he could take refuge from the complexities of his human life. But now, the mangled branches and uprooted plants mirrored the turmoil beneath his blood-stained fur. He looked at what he'd done: the forest floor looked violently chaotic, like a ballerina with all the grace of a butcher had been enjoying its services, and the trunks of trees were slashed deep with his own claw marks.

Nothing, compared to what I'd like to do to that filthy bloodsucker.

For a moment, his breath quickened again, thinking about the creature that had taken his love, his life. But despite his anger, exhaustion won over his violent wishes. He collapsed onto the ground next to the fallen tree, and closed his eyes.

Everything was quiet. Everything was calm.

Huh, if a tree falls in the forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?

The silence was bliss and, if only for a moment, he could imagine that none of this had happened. Like he'd never loved her at all, like he'd never phased, like the Cullens had kept their promise and never strayed into the lives of the Quiluete... He closed his eyes, trying to will it all away, but images kept coming. Over and over, he was forced to watch as the scenes replayed in his mind. He couldn't forget it all fast enough.

Finally, he opened his eyes, only to see the wreckage he created falling sideways out of his vision. Even the debris surrounding him, the twisted broken branches, the thorny brambles stained with his own blood - none of it compared to the violent wreckage that was his life.

Jacob looked over at the tree trunk, his wolf's eyes glistening with what would probably have been tears if he were in his human form.

He lay there for a while, until he could no longer stand the sound of silence. Dragging his weary body onto all four feet, he continued his journey away from Forks.

The next time Jacob stopped, his body was beyond the point of exhaustion. He probably would have kept running if his muscles had been able to support his weight, now shockingly low. He hadn't eaten in weeks. He couldn't. He had neglected his body as he tried to fight the emotional pain - but now his heartbreak, his futile attempt to escape his past life…it was all starting to affect him physically.

He growled at a squirrel that sat a few feet away, burrowing a small hole in the dirt floor. It twitched slightly, scampering a few inches from the wolf, but watched him curiously. The limp, the gasping, the blood: he was weak, and even the squirrel knew it didn't have to fear this predator.

Jacob was sure he could feel a few fractured ribs as he tread carefully through the dry leaves.

When did that happen?

Perhaps it was when he stumbled into that badger's den, the small but vicious creature ravaging its passive invader. Or maybe it was just Jacob's own body, making light work of breaking down his tissue and bone in a futile attempt to supply the nourishment he refused to grant it.

Finally, his physical state mirrored the turmoil that was taking place in his mind. The struggle for survival, the fight between what he needed and what he couldn't have.

He could hardly take more than a few steps before his body was racked with shakes and shivers as he shifted unevenly from wolf to human, becoming a motley mix of the two before he fell back onto all fours as a wolf.

He was a grotesque sight; He hobbled around on whatever limbs he had available at the moment, sometimes trudging through the leaves on three paws, dragging a useless human leg behind him. His emaciated body was a sallow yellow hue, with patches of dirty fur creeping up through the flesh along his spine, and deep black holes beneath human eyes.

Bella…. Bella…. Where are you? Where am I?

Bella!

"..Bella… Bella, please…"

As the hysteria and delusion grew in his mind, Jacob began speaking out loud – calling out, hoping someone might hear him. He looked to the reddish sky, a small line of bloody saliva trickling out of his open mouth, his eyes desperately searching for the sun that would tell him which direction to run - but it had already set.

"Twilight," he chuckled to himself. Then the chuckle turned into laughter - hysterical, maniacal, uncontrollable laughter.

"Oh yeah, bloodsucker? Fuck you! I'll kill you… I'll find… I'll…No, FUCK YOU!"

His laughter became even more manic, and soon tears of hysteria were streaming down his sunken cheeks. The forest he was in had opened up to a field. He could see the red sky all around him, looming, seeming to close in on him from all sides. He felt his skull spinning and with a wicked screech he collapsed into the tall grass. As the echoes of his laughter subsided, Jacob moaned, the emotional and physical pain returning to his body in full force.

"Bella… Bella, please.. please help me…. love me…"

The dark clouds of unconsciousness were just hovering around the corners of his vision when he saw her – more beautiful than ever, standing before him:

"Bella… you came!"

And then darkness.

Jacob blinked his eyes, squinting into the harsh light of a bare lightbulb hanging from a low wooden crossbar. The ceiling above him was made of wooden beams and logs that made him feel as though he was inside one of those miniature Lincoln Log houses.

Where am I?

Trying to take in more of the scenery, he slowly turned his head to the right. But even that small movement left him wincing in pain, and he was only able to catch a quick glimpse of some sparse Native American-style décor paired with natural wood furniture before his focus went hazy and it all swirled into a muddled brown and rust soup behind his eyes.

"Daddy, come quick – he's awake!"

Who are these people?

He was lying on a small couch, wearing some worn sweatpants and an oversized flannel t-shirt. He still couldn't see much, but from this new perspective he could neither confirm nor deny his hypothesis that he was, in fact, now sitting in a life-size Lincoln Log cabin. The furniture was plain, a few pale wooden chairs with muted plaid cushions, a wooden t.v. hutch, and a matching coffee table about a foot away from his couch. Through the windows behind the hutch, he could see that it was night – or rather, he assumed it was night because he couldn't make out a thing in the darkness.

He looked past the magazines and papers that cluttered the table, and there, perched in one of the chairs, he saw her, wearing some raggedy grey sweats and a washed-out waffle tee, hugging one of the pale periwinkle cushions into her chest.

It wasn't Bella, but he could see how he had made the mistake: She was average in every way, just like Bella. Maybe she was a bit younger, but she had the same dull brown hair hanging in her face, partially obscuring the matching brown eyes. Her appearance was unassuming – but somehow, comfortable. Familiar.

She turned to look at him, and lock of hair fell out from behind her ear, casting even more of her face into obscurity. He watched as her black-socked toes fidgeted. Then she smiled – just barely – and pulled the sleeves of her shirt down until they covered all but the last knuckles of her fingers.

Before realizing how much it hurt to breathe, Jacob let out a gasp.

God, she reminds me of her.

She started to get out of her chair, clearly worried by the wincing and carefully suppressed moans of pain coming from the couch.

Seeing the concern on her face, Jacob nodded a wordless, 'I'm fine'.

And that's when he noticed. Across her face, and even down her neck, was a gentle array of light freckles. It was the only thing that really stood out about her. Along with her skin's slight sunkissed glow, her freckles gave the impression that she got outside a lot more frequently than Bella did.

Especially now that the stupid bloodsucker's got her cooped up inside during the daylight…

Just before the angst took hold and Jacob could start to think about Bella again, a man came bounding into the room, presumably the girl's father. If this girl was Bella's equivalent, her father was nothing like Charlie. His appearance commanded attention: He was a large man, tall, looking a bit like a jolly lumberjack or a happy farmer in a plaid top and worn jeans, and his beard and thick mane of hair were a fiery red that accentuated his fiercely blue eyes and rosy, flushed cheeks.

"Well, well, well. It looks like our sleeping beauty is finally awake! You gave us quite a scare there, son."

Definitely jolly.

Jacob tried to sit up, presumably to ask what, exactly, was going on, but instead let out a stifled yelp as pain shot through his core.

"Easy there, boy. You're in pretty bad shape. Bells – go make some soup for him, will you?"

"Of course, father."

Bells?

Jacob slowly inched upwards, testing out his mobility on the couch. He tried to form words, but his mind couldn't settle into any sort of language. Finally, he opted for a pained expression and a confused moan.

His 'question' got a deep belly laugh from the happy lumberjack, who replied, "I guess you're wondering, 'who the heck are these people' and 'what am I doing out here in the middle of nowheres-ville'!"

It looked like he was waiting for a response of some kind, but Jake didn't know how to react. He couldn't tell if was glad for the man's enthusiastic bellowing that would finally break the monotony of his anguished thoughts, or whether he wished he had been left alone to die outside in the grasses. In the end, his sluggish mind couldn't decide, so he just continued to stare blankly at the man, who was now sitting just feet away on the coffee table.

After a minute or so of silence, the man finally continued, "Well, I'll introduce myself, then - I'm the man who helped save your life! Granted, most of the credit goes to my Bells, who found you out there in the - "

"—Bells?" It was just a whisper.

The giant's face formed an expression of bemusement and he pointed a thumb towards a doorframe Jake could just barely get a glimpse of from his position on the couch.

"Well, yeah, my daughter. Annabel's her name, actually, but mostly everyone around here calls her Bells or Bella… She was upstairs in her bedroom watching the moon come out, and she said she heard a voice calling out to her. Well, she followed that voice straight to you, and sure enough, you were calling her name. Hell, you were even saying while you were sleeping…"

He kept on with his animated speech, but Jacob barely heard it. He was trying to figure out what was real…

He'd seen Bella the other night, he was sure of it. Even if it was just a hallucination, or a vision of death beckoning him to the next life –it was Bella, Bella Swan. It had to be, right? Because there was something so familiar about her, the way she'd made him feel, the way his labored heart started pounded in his ribs, the way –

The deep bellowing voice pulled Jacob out of his thoughts. What was he saying? "...So anyways, unless I'm mistaken, she doesn't know you – so I'd like to hear about this Bella girl and what kind of extraordinary coincidence brought you out to the boonies and onto our doorstep!"

Jacob closed his eyes. He couldn't make sense of it. Coincidence? Or some cruel twist of fate? Is this a blessing, or just another taunting?

He turned away, pushing his head to the left and into the musty couch. His actions said what his mind was thinking: I was in love with her. But that was a different lifetime… I'd rather not talk about it.

At that moment, Annabel came back into the room, her hair swaying softly while the soup bowl rattled dangerously on the tray she held. Jacob pulled his head out from he cushion and looked up at her. She had a slight bounce in her step and an inner buoyancy that made Jake wonder how he had confused her with Bella at all. They might have shared some physical characteristics, and maybe a few nervous mannerisms, but this was nothing like the Bella he knew – the one who needed protection, that needed love, that needed him…

But then suddenly, as he was looking at her, something changed. Somehow, he really saw her. He saw the joy and hope in her brown eyes, but also the longing for something more. He saw the memory of what was, and the sadness for what would never again be. He saw the shimmer of her hair, the curve of her lips. There was the potential for laughter, for sadness, for growth, for nurturing, for lust, for love. He was looking into her soul and suddenly he knew it was happening; what he had wanted to happen so many times before, it was happening now, but with the wrong person.

She smiled, her freckles gathering around her nose, and a small light growing within her chest. The light grew until it was all that Jacob could see. He was blinded for a moment, and then, Jacob felt his heart beat; a single pulse that pushed a new longing through his veins, and then finally, he could see again.

"I hope chicken noodle is alright!"

Jacob felt like he was going to be sick.

A/N: So, I originally posted this story a few weeks ago, but - with the help of my new, lovely beta elusivemuse, I've made some significant changes to the piece. I'll be returning to Chapter Two to do the same, and then after that you can expect to see some new chapters (hopefully, on a semi-regular basis, too).

Thanks for reading, and please let me know what you think - the good, the bad, and the ugly, I'll take it all :)