Just a weird idea I had in my head and I had to write it down.
This takes place decades after Breaking Dawn.
Enjoy it and tell me what you think.
Freedom and love go together. Love is not a reaction. If I love you because you love me, that is mere trade, a thing to be bought in the market; it is not love. To love is not to ask anything in return, not even to feel that you are giving something- and it is only such love that can know freedom.
J. Krishnamurti
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After all, he should have known all along that nothing would ever turn out right again. Too long had he pretended that, lying to himself and all the others, acting as if everything was alright. Maybe it was an act of despair, the brutal longing inside himself to be happy, to finally get the contentment he deserved. After everything he went through it made him angry that in the end it always seemed to be him to get the opposite of what he wanted or nothing at all.
The others didn't know. He would never tell them. Why should he? They lived their happily-ever-after and he seemed to be a part of it, against his will or better judgement.
He was supposed to be happy with what he had and he deserved it, he was more than sure of that. It was more than he could have asked for, much more, but somehow it was not what he wanted, not what he needed.
He should have known that neither ancient spells not the slow passing of many years could ever have the power to change anything.
It was a vicious circle he was trapped in without a hope to escape it. All the forming elements were connected which made it even more impossible to get rid of any one. They were all linked, melted together until there was nothing left to distinguish.
The love for Bella which still held on to his heart, long lost but never fading.
The loyalty towards his pack, his family.
The loyalty towards the Cullens, the family he had come to accept over the years.
The ancient conflict which was still a part of the relationship between his families apart from any love and compassion that had grown.
The love towards Renesmee, a love he felt on the outside, a love he lived each second, a devotion that filled every part of his heart which was not occupied by slowly fading memories of Bella, of a long time ago.
The fact that he had imprinted on Renesmee made him feel as if he owed her his full love and adoration. He loved her, no doubt. In a way. But it felt all wrong to him. She was not what his heart screamed for, what his mind had chosen, not the future he should have had. Their relationship had become a duty to him, one he tried to hide so hard, because the last thing he wanted was for his Nessie to feel his pain, to know the truth. He loved her too much for that, after all.
This was his secret, his burden. But she unconsciously made it harder for him, all of her honest affection, the love she felt for him, even just her physical appearance made it harder for him to control himself and maintain his mask.
He had tried so hard, told himself for a while that now that his Bells was gone, dead, replaced by a cold new Bella, one he couldn't hate either, he would eventually forget. That his feelings would fade, the bittersweet nightmares, filled with the vivid pictures of what could have been, disappear. He naively hoped that all of that would die with her.
It didn't.
He thought so first, his mind clouded with the passion his imprinting had caused in him. But slowly, painfully they fought their way back into his conscious mind.
And so he was left only with the option to talk himself out of it, trying to remind himself that what he was holding onto was gone, dead, never to return. The new Bella was so very different from the one he had once devoted his heart to, almost everything he had loved and adored about her was gone, but the fact that, technically, she was still the same, still his Bells, was what burdened him over all the long years that passed. The fact that every time he looked into Nessie´s caring eyes, all he saw was a future which had been taken from him, her eyes, his Bells, all concentrated into the deep chocolate brown circles. Each time his mind wandered away from whom he was really facing, anger filled his every pore, anger towards himself for wishing it was someone else. He was disgusted, boiling hate fighting his now perfected self-control.
Sometimes he just wanted to leave, just run away without ever coming back, never phasing again – leaving all this behind and start all over again.
There were so many things he would like to do, plans he had never been able to go through with, parts of a future he was never allowed to live, just simple things.
From time to time visions and ridiculous ideas ran through his troubled mind. He saw himself running, running far away, somewhere where none of this meant anything to anybody, somewhere where no reminders of this part of his life were present.. He could live by the sea, just as he used to before – he could find a girl, some nice girl and make her fall in love with him, treat her the way she deserved it, loving her as much as he was capable of. He could have children, his own children running around the beach. He would open a garage, turning his former hobby into a proper job, a hobby he had not performed in a long time. And after he lived the happy, normal life he deserved he would die and he would embrace it, glad to have completed his part.
All the while he knew that he might find peace with his past, even in death. He would not grieve about never seeing them again. The knowledge that they would always be there, that their part of the story would go on – it would be enough for him.
But whenever this vision of a faceless women, cuddled against his chest, watching their children play at the beach while the sun was setting, illuminating the sky and calm water in an impressing and calming red and orange – he knew it would never happen. It might be meant to be that way, but life had definitely come in between, taking what was supposed to be his all along.
As much as his current life hurt him, challenged him, he was not unhappy and somehow could not bare to let it go. He wanted to more than he could ever put into proper words, but he just couldn't.
Not necessarily for their sakes – but for his own. During all those years, he had gotten so used to everything and even if it was not what he wanted – letting it go was beyond him. It was like leaving school: all those years you curse and complain about having to spent all your time on studying but when it comes to an end, you feel the pain of loosing something boiling inside you. No matter how much you detest something, the longer it is present the more it becomes a part of your life, of who you are and the more it leaves behind a dull nothingness when you let it go.
So Jacob accepted his faith, never finding peace with it but he learned to live with it. What other choice did he have, after all?
He knew he could never escape this. Even if he wanted to, where was he supposed to go, anyways? What did he have to build up a living on? Something that stabbed him every time that recognition overcame him was the fact that he knew all to well that they would help him. If he chose to leave and explained everything, telling the truth just one more time, they would let him go. What their feelings would be like if they did – that he couldn't think about. Especially Nessie and so, before a proper thought could form in his head, his guilt brought him back to reality.
He knew he could not just pick up his life, or what had been there before all this happened. For that, the seventeen years before all this had been too short – there was nothing to hold onto. He could not return to La Push – he didn't want to either. Everything, everything had started there. All the love he had once had towards his former home, it was washed away by the aching knowledge of what had happened there and what could have happened there.
But no matter what compromise he had made with life and himself, he felt even more guilt whenever he saw or heard Seth and Leah. The guilt – he blamed himself that he was not the only one living this wrecked up life. More than an escape from his own misery he wanted them to have the life they deserved – not following him to wherever he was going, their loyalty beyond words.
Telling them to leave and finally begin to live again – he knew it would be worthless. They'd never listen.
They knew. He knew that. How couldn't they? After all, they were in each other's heads too often to hide something permanent like this. They knew every little detail of the dilemma his heart had thrown him into. But they never said a single word, tried to keep their thoughts distracted when he was listening. Just like him they knew they couldn't help him. He couldn't even help himself.
Leaving – it was impossible. After all those years, the two of them and the Cullens were all that was left. His only family.
It tortured him that he knew nothing about what had happened to all the other people who had once been a part of his life. The last actual detail was the death of Bella's father Charlie almost sixty years ago. He had been the only connection to his past, giving him details on what was going on in the place he had left behind.
There was not much he knew about his old pack or the people in school – sometimes his mind wandered to weird places during his mostly sleepless nights, showing him bittersweet images of children, his old home and the aged faces of his old friends. But it somehow made him happy as well – the thought that they had had the life they deserved, even if he didn't know for sure. Maybe they were all dead by now – he couldn't know. And the thought of dying had not been painful to him ever since Charlie had called one day, long ago, informing him about Billy's death.
His sister must have been dead for a while, too. He did not know, knew nothing. And it did not bother him. Actually, even though he could and would never show it, he, deep inside his heart, had found peace with Rosalie. Because after knowing her better and longer he understood that in their hearts, they shared the very same opinion about life and death and the existence they were dooming in right now. And sometimes he even felt sorry for her.
From time to time a ridiculous wish overcame him, the wish that Seth and Leah would imprint.
As much as his own imprinting had been a huge, if not decisive part of this situation, he knew it would help and it would be different for them. They had no one else their hearts beat for, Seth too devoted to his wolf and Leah having found peace with Sam somewhere in her heart over the years. They would be able to love and live the way they should.
Jacob knew they would never leave him if he asked them to and so he knew that the only way they'd find their places was them leaving him willingly.
Sometimes he doubted himself in that particular wish because, after all, they had no more family than he had, nothing else to hold on to, as well.
But having them find peace was what he needed. Needed to leave himself. In some way, at least. Because of one thing he was more sure than any other. The fact that forever was never supposed to be a part of his story. He would not live for an eternity.
Too often he broke his mind while trying to figure out a way to tell them all, to actually do it. Maybe he would have to wait a million years but he knew for sure that one day he would die. And in his dreams he died being old and content – not young on the outside and broken on the inside.
Because that he felt, too. He might still be the young man outside but he felt the hands of time age him from the inside. Older and older he grew each day, never able to show it or live of that development. It was somehow in vain.
This was not how things should have been and he felt sorry… not sorry for himself – he'd given up on the self-pity a long time ago – but sorry for how he influenced everyone around him just because he lost his hold along the way.
From time to time he thought about the way he fought to keep what he had, to conquer what he didn't. Every tear, every aching muscle – mostly his heart – everything he'd spent to save his Bells, to save himself – it seemed somewhat worthless when looked at now. But he knew it was not.
Just the fact that they could have had that future he longed for so much – it was worth all the pain. The image of him and his Bells, old and grey but still beaming, wrapped in his arms, her heartbeat still the most peace bringing melody in the world – how could that idea not be worth it?
He never thought what else he might have done, more to make her see sense. Just as he had told her that day, he knew for sure that he had done everything he could. But now and again he asked himself whether he had done something wrong.
It didn't really bother him – indifference all too present, all too familiar to him now.
He could not change the past, nor influence the future as he would like to – he promised to be good, after all. And apart from all the guilt he felt, one thing he knew without feeling angry about that fact at all – none of this was his fault.
It was not Bella's either – in fact, there was no one who could be blamed for all this. Things had happened, times had changed – but that happens all the time. And apparently, this was the way his life was going. He could not blame Bella for what she felt, for what she feels.
Sometimes he thought it might be easier if there actually was someone to blame so he could get his revenge. But there wasn't. And so he didn't bother any more.
If there was one thing he could be blamed for, than it was the way things had been going in the end.
If he had just been honest and true, just as he always had been, this misery might have found a conclusion.
Not a happy ending.
But a way.
All that were things Jacob Black did know. But there was one essential thing he didn't. One he never found out. One which would have meant the world to him without really changing the situation at all.
It was the fact, that he was not the only one who held onto a past which left no options to choose, yet none to forget, either. The fact that Bella, no matter how much she wanted the life she was living now, was never able to really let Jacob go.
Just as him, she kept it a secret, burying it into a restless corner of her sleeping heart where she could hide it, but still have it close – close, so sometimes, when the situation seemed to allow it, she could dream. Not sleep. But dream. Dream of something she could have had – something she'll never have – both combined.
She felt weak for it and at the same time, knew she had no right to feel any pain. After all, she had made the decision that had brought all this.
And so she lived with it, agony dripping through her heart each time she saw Renesmee, her own daughter, in the arms of the man she loved so much more than she should. As she had known all the time – in an world where there was what she had now, her love for Jacob was only enough to cause pain.
But in the very end their love finally and for the first time was worth for something good.
It had been eighty years to the day since Jacob had confronted all of them with his decision to die. To leave this world. To finally take the path which was meant for him by nature.
Eighty years to the day that the russet wolf Bella had adored so much had last strolled through the woods, howled to the moon one last time.
Eighty years to the day since Jacob had started to age again.
It had not been a surprise for Bella. Somehow she had known all along that, even though he had promised her so long ago – he would not always be there, would not stay forever.
But Bella accepted it.
It had been Renesmee who could not understand and how could you blame her? The love of your life decides to die although he has the possibility to stay with you forever.
But the years passed slower for her than they did for Bella, Renesmee´s sense of time more human than a vampire's. And so, she had come to accept it as well over the years. How, Bella could not tell and she never asked her daughter about it.
So eighty years to the day since the decision was made, Jacob Black passed away, peacefully falling asleep with Bella and Renesmee by his side, both of them oblivious to what was going on in his head at that time.
And the moment he passed from this world, tearing apart the chains which for so long had held him back, the last part of Isabella Swan which was still somewhat alive inside of Bella died with him after all the restless decades imprisoned inside a cold, immobile heart – finally finding peace.
While Renesmee cried silent tears for the man she loved, Bella Cullen smiled a shy smile while looking at the peaceful and content expression on Jacob's aged face.
She understood now.
It had always been enough. The idea of it. The thought. And even though she could not know exactly, the idea of Jake and Bells, their love, reunited in some place Bella now would never be able to see – it was enough.
Jake and Bells were at peace, their love having died with each other. And after being able to let that last piece of Bells go, Bella was now free – free to finally forget.