A/N: Another NM spinoff. This is Billy-Bella! Some readers might find themselves weirded out by the pairing, but I really hope not. And please review!

Selfish.

As I turn off my truck's engine and stare at the Black residence through my windshield, the cold morning dew creeping from the rolled-down window, chilling my car and misting my hair and cheeks, it's the only word that bounces around in my head.

Selfish. I'm selfish.

I always need to own someone. I need to always have someone to catch me, someone who will always be there for me. I need someone to tell me over and over how important I am, how incredibly irreplaceable I am. I need to be needed.

I need the love. I need the worship.

I need someone who can't live without me, whose whole world revolves around me.

But I have no one.

It used to be Edward. He always adoringly smiled at me like I was the most amazing person in the world. I loved the way he whispered my name reverently, as if my name was a prayer. I loved the way he touched me—a cross between delicate and passionate, as if he were trapped between wanting to ravish me and needing to treasure me. I loved him, but more than that, I loved the attention he gave me. The caution. The restraint. The adoration and obsession.

And when he left, I was devastated by the loss of it all.

Selfish.

Then it was Jacob. He was a little different. His touch was always filled with a fevered passion and none of the restraint Edward's touch had. But Jacob loved me too, and though I only ever saw him as a friend, I grew to need him. I began to crave the singleminded devotion he gave me. His loyalty. The jokes he made, even at his own expense, to make me happy. I liked how he made me feel so important, like Edward was an idiot for leaving me. I loved how Jacob made me feel like I was his universe.

Selfish.

I know I only led him on, but I never told him that. I never told him anything. If he knew that I was just using him to feed my ego, he would have left me all alone. Then there would have been nobody left. Because I'm unlovable. A leech much worse than vampires. A more hideous monster than Edward claimed to be.

I am, for all intents and purposes, a demon.

But I didn't have to tell Jacob anything to make him leave. As expected, as per usual, he left me on his own volition too. Just like Charlie did when he chose Forks over me and Mom. Like Mom did when she married Phil, deciding that I wasn't enough. Just like Mom and Phil did when they let me leave for Forks, as if they didn't want me enough to ask me to stay. Like the Cullens did when they deemed me better off without them.

Like Edward did when he left me.

They always leave, these people I attach myself to. I don't say or do anything wrong, but they leave anyway. And I know why. They sense the warped creature I really am. Their subconscious sees that I'm not the sweet little Bella I try to make myself seem to be. I'm not the innocent girl that needs protection. I'm not the selfless girl I pretend to be. I'm far from selfless.

I'm selfish.

Jacob had to have known that there was something wrong with me—something weird in the way I smiled that shy smile when he complimented me, something distorted in the soft chuckle I made when he embarrassed himself to make me laugh. He might not have been conscious about it, but I'm sure he just knew. He sensed it in me, and what he sensed disgusted him.

I wish he'd ignored my flaws and still loved me, but who was I kidding? It was only a matter of time before he'd decide to walk away from me.

When Charlie left, I had Mom. When Mom left me, I had Edward. And when Edward left, I had Jacob. Jacob to make the hilarious remarks about my love life, Jacob to tickle me when a frown passed my face, Jacob to keep me company, Jacob to make me feel loved. I should never have taken Jacob's affections for granted. I should have known that he was the last one—the only one left in the world that could have ever really loved me. If only I changed myself, even just a little bit, he wouldn't have walked away.

I should have known that after him, there would be nobody left.

But I was ignorant. I stayed the same Bella I always was, so of course Jacob left me.

Now I have no one. No sun to brighten up my life. No fallback.

Hair and face soaked with dew, I look at the empty space where the truck's radio used to be. And as I ponder how much of my life is like that empty space, I hear a loud knock on my door.

"What are you doing here, Bella?"

It's Jacob. I feel so glad to see him, so hopeful. He doesn't seem to be avoiding me anymore. But I notice the blank way he looks at me, the lack of enthusiasm upon seeing me, and I realize that it's just my wishful thinking.

"Jacob?" I whisper, uncertain.

Because I realize that he doesn't look like the Jacob I know. His hair is cropped short, his face older and brooding, his body more muscular than I remember. And his eyes. His eyes are looking at me with an aversion that I have never seen before. It dawns to me then that this is no longer my Jacob. My Jacob is gone. Probably forever. And it's all my fault.

But I can't let him go. I won't allow him to leave me. Losing Jacob would leave me more broken than I already am. Refusing to let go of Jacob is my own pathetic attempt at survival. Because Jacob's my sun, the only bright thing left in my life. Losing him is out of the question. I would change myself if I have to. I would love him the way he deserves. I would do anything to keep him with me. Anything. Everything.

Choking on my own air, I struggle with the words as I say, "You know what I want to know."

And he does. He knows me. He's seen how Edward's departure affected me. He's noticed how much I depend on him now. He doesn't know the exact reasons why I depend on him or the real extent of my dependence, but I'm sure Jacob has some idea.

What I want to know is if he's really leaving me all alone.

But I'm too scared to put a voice to the question, as if doing so would make the idea occur to him and make him decide to leave me. If he hasn't yet.

Jacob doesn't answer, and his silence slowly breaks my cruel heart.

He stares into my eyes for a long moment before looking away, as if appalled by what he saw in them. I feel myself sinking in the driver's seat in shame, and I hold on to the steering wheel to anchor myself.

We continue with that awful silence for a long time, and when he does speak, his voice carries a hint of the disgust that I saw in his eyes. "Let's get this over with." he says.

I wait for him to continue, knowing at the back of my mind that his words would only break me. Irreversibly this time.

"It's not what you think." he says.

I blink at the unexpected sentence. I don't know how to beg him to stay with me if he doesn't admit that he wants to leave in the first place.

I couldn't help but find humor in his bleak statement. "It's not what you think," he says. What does he know about what I'm really thinking? What does he know about my greed and my narcissism? But then again, he probably knows something. It's probably what disgusts him so much in the first place.

Here he is, Jacob Black, breaking the dark little remnants of my rotten little heart, and he's still being nice about it.

"So what is it, then?" I ask warily.

"I... I can't tell you." he replies.

I laugh then, the sound ringing hollow to my ears. I'm not sure why my mouth makes the sound. I obviously want to cry. "Why can't you tell me? I thought we were friends."

He looks into my eyes and looks away again.

"We were." he says.

There it is. The rejection I've been waiting for. But instead of getting off my truck and kneeling in front of him, instead of begging him to give me another chance like I planned, I'm cemented in place. My fingers tightly grip the steering wheel, and no amount of effort I place on them could make them let go.

"You don't need friends anymore," I say, the sudden acid that drip from my voice surprising me. Jacob flinches, but says nothing.

"You have Sam," I continue, surprising myself even more. I suddenly realize that Sam has something to do with Jake's hostility. Sam did something to Jake. Sam stole him from me. I find myself loathing Sam Uley with all my heart and soul. "Isn't that nice, Jake? You've always looked up to him so much."

"It's not that!" he growls angrily. Then his eyes soften at some memory. "Sam's a nice guy. He's helping me out."

I hold the steering wheel in a death grip. "Of course he is."

"Don't blame Sam for this." he says, almost imploringly.

All the air rushes out of my lungs, and I realize that my mouth is whispering the very question I never wanted to ask:

"Then who do I blame?"

Because I know who to blame. Myself. Only myself. Sam may have said something to Jake, something about how there's something wrong with me when he found me unconscious in the woods, something about how he found me too psycho for Jake to handle, but in the end, it's Jake who agreed. Jake who realized that Sam's right.

Jake who decided that I'm too rotten for him.

He doesn't answer. I don't think it would matter if he does. I quickly roll up my window and drive away from him. Back to the safety of home. Back to isolation. Back to the state I was in when Edward left.

Back to nothing.

"So you talked to him." a deep voice booms as I enter the house.

Billy. He must have heard my truck drive in.

I stand still by the doorway, unsure of how to walk to my room without passing by him. Eventually it becomes impossible, as Billy wheels himself towards me, his face stern and his thin lips set in a grim line.

"Charlie dropped me off here and drove to pick Harry up." he says, noticing the confused frown on my face.

"Okay." I murmur, my feet still glued to the floor.

"Did Jake... Did he tell you anything?" he asks slowly, checking my reaction to every word.

No, Jacob didn't tell me anything. But at the same time, he told me everything I needed to know.

"No."

Billy doesn't believe me for a second. The way he squints his eyes as if he sees something strange on my face, tells me that my lie falls flat. But Billy's a kind man. He doesn't harangue me or look at me with disgust. He probably knows my shame, because without another word, he gestures for me to come closer. I kneel beside him and he pats my head. Exactly the way I wanted Charlie to in my dreams as a child. The way I wanted him to comfort me when Edward left me lost and confused.

The relief Billy's warm hand brings me washes through my broken heart. Not quite healing it, but numbing the ache a little. Tears sting their way out of my eyes and make warm, moist trails down my cheeks. I'm sure that the gesture doesn't mean much to Billy, but to me, it's my lifeline. The sad fact that my life has suddenly become dependent on such an infinitesimal thing makes me sob uncontrollably.

"There's nobody left, Billy... I have nobody left." I say, my soul screaming from the pain of the truth and the lie in the words. I do have someone now. It's Billy. But my connection to him is a flimsy, pathetic one, one he doesn't even know about.

His voice is sympathetic. "You'll be fine, Bella," he runs his palm back and forth through my hair, mussing it. "It's okay. You'll be just fine."

Then my heart breaks all over again. Again and again it breaks, with every sharp intake of air, with every tear drop that rolls down my cheeks, with every sob I make and with every twitch of my fingers as I hold on to the arm rest of Billy's wheelchair as if my life depends on it.

Because Billy didn't disagree when I said that I have no one left.

As my heart shatters to pieces, Billy Black doesn't pick it up. He doesn't try to put it back together. He doesn't try to become my new sun, and he doesn't try to become my new universe.

No, all he does is rub my back as the tears flow down my cheeks, as if he knows they would eventually run out. He remains silent as I cry my heart out, probably for the first time since I was a kid. When Edward left me, I didn't cry. When Jacob left me, I didn't cry. But Billy Black, with his silent strength and soft touches, unraveled the fierce desperation that I have never let myself release.

"You'll be okay, kid," he says. "You can never have no one. You'll always have yourself."

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