This story has no title. So, if anyone has any suggestions, please tell me. This is a slash fic, so beware...

Untitled

I knew that Edward was dangerous. His entire species (could they be called a species?) was: their monstrous thirst for human blood, their abnormal strength, their frigid stares…dangerous. I was taught for it to be second nature for me to be on my guard in any vampire was close by-and I learned as well that it counted double for Edward. But strangely enough, his presence in my garage wasn't all that disturbing. Perhaps it was because I stopped giving a shit about vampires a while back: at least, most of them.

There he stood, so picturesque and perfect, leaning against the doorframe, his eyes surveying my garage with something between amusement and distaste. I didn't care-so what if he got his shoes dirty? I had more important things to worry about than whether he liked the atmosphere. I turned back to the 1972 Chevrolet that I was currently rehabilitating. Its owner, one of my father's ancient friends with a fetish for driving it every day for 17 years had finally worn the poor beast down, and didn't have the heart to let it rest in peace. Its scuffed, worn front end was propped up on a pair of ramps, awaiting my wrench. Edward stood patiently as well, waiting for me to make the first move.

As if I was that stupid.

I began surveying the damage: brakes were shot, an oil leak, and…what the hell was growing under there? I decided to leave the unidentified fuzzy mass alone and cleaned off the crusted oil tank, searching for the leak. With the leak exposed, a droplet of the black crude escaped and splashed onto my face; I quickly wiped it away. I had learned back when I was a kid that this was where I belonged, nestled under battered and broken cars, trucks and/or SUV's that needed some loving care and a new pair of shocks. Before long, though, the curiosity bug nipped me soundly on the ear and I slowly peeked out to the open door. Edward was STILL waiting, motionless and pale as a statue, balanced as a Classical masterpiece. His white, flawless skin was a stark contrast to the interior of my garage: grey and grimy.

Damn! His sharp eyes swiveled and pinned me to the floor; he caught me looking. Twenty-four years and I was still as sneaky as an angry bear. It was now only a matter of time until I had to emerge from my mechanical shell and see what the hell was so important.

"Alright, alright." I slid out and wiped my hands on the nearest towel. "What is it, bloodsucker?" It amazed me how easily that old name had slipped from my tongue. Edward himself seemed amused by it, and he shook his head chidingly, a small smile on his placid face. I could've strangled him.

"Haven't we grown out of name-calling yet?" I glower at him, of course.

"You would know a lot about growing, wouldn't you?" It was amazing how much I towered over him. I had finally stopped growing after I reached 6'5; he had probably only reached 5'10 before he had died. My heart skipped a beat as his eyes narrowed dangerously: it was down to brass tacks now. Something serious had happened. When I thought about it, it would've had to have been for him to come see me here.

"…Jacob." His tome was grave, his fists clenched tightly. I was sure that his fingernails were digging into the soft skin of his palms, but Edward didn't seem to notice. I assumed a serious expression and tried to mimic his intensity, which was impossible.

"Fine, Edward. What's so important?" Edward remained silent for a moment, his eyes burning holes into my forehead. The limited power of my glare practically fizzled out under his. Finally, his pale lips parted and he spoke, his voice slightly cracked.

"Bella is dead."

I had often imagined my reaction to that news. I visualized my eyes slowly widening, my mouth gaping, my knees shaking and quivering in shock. Strange as it may seem, none of that happened. I couldn't say I was surprised; I had led myself to believe that she would certainly die in Edward's hands, hands that were now shaking uncontrollably.

"How did she…" I played the part of the scorned, lovesick puppy that he expected me to be. My eyes widened, my mouth gaped…but my heart was sickly happy. I couldn't help but feel guilty for this misplaced joy, especially when I saw the look in the eyes of the man before me, his heart flayed open on the concrete floor.

I felt for him. Oh, did I ever feel for him.

"She fell very ill. I was double pneumonia. She refused to let me…" I stood in silence. What was I supposed to say? "She died so quickly…"

"I see." I bit my tongue-what a stupid thing to say. Edward must've agreed; his eyes locked angrily onto me. He remained silent, his body quivering from his despair, anger, hopelessness. My lips turned up in a wry smile, but in fact I could've cried. The despairing look on his perfect face sent shivers down my spine. Another basic lesson that I had been taught in my youth was that vampires were cold, emotionless creatures, caring only about their next meal. But, if that was true, Edward wouldn't be here, his eyes wouldn't be tearing at my heartstrings.

I could tell that the strain had affected him greatly. His eyes were darkened to near pitch black, his face wan and pale. He was definitely starving himself-accident or no. Was he trying to die too?

"Edward…"

"I just thought that you should know. You…loved her." I raised my eyebrows in slight surprise. Edward didn't use the L-word lightly. He had been infatuated with Bella, like me. I realized that it was the bond that kept us inexorably tied together- our "undying" love for her. Mine HAD died, and Edward had just kicked some extra dust over its grave by coming here.

"Edward..."

"She would've wanted me to contact you." Dear God, could you get a word in with this guy? What was he trying to get away from?

"Edward!" His head snapped up; his eyes, so dark and hungry, locked into mine. "Thanks for coming, and I'm really sorry…" His slender eyebrow arched curiously. "What are you waiting for?"

"I'm waiting for you to tell me what goes on the end of that sentence." I hated that about Edward-his ability to see right through you. "Or should I just go? You seem to be quite busy with that…thing." He looked over to the Chevy, whose oil tank had upchucked nearly all of its oil onto the concrete floor.

"Yeah. I do have a car to fix. Maybe you should…go." Edward crossed his arms, their slimness concealing their strength. An indignant look spread across his face. "What did I do now?"

"I'm sorry. It's just you seem a bit apathetic about Bella's passing despite your being "in love" with her." That's when I noticed-his mini-seizures had abruptly stopped, as if he had deemed it safe to stop them. That faker! I frowned and crossed my arms as well. I had forgotten how great of an actor he was.

"You suddenly don't seem so grief-stricken yourself." I paused, allowing the statement to sink in. "So, how's about I tell if you tell. Fair?"

"I have absolutely nothing to say to you."

"Is that so? Funny-for such a great actor, you don't lie very well." His brow furrowed and I took a step toward him, throwing my greasy towel on a table near me.

Bella had been pretty, smart, and agreeable; nice to be around. She was vulnerable, and easy to love. Ironically enough, it was this vulnerability that was what made me fall out of love with her. She was very good at being the victim, and she was: too many times to count. I realized later on in life that her type wasn't what I wanted. I wanted an equal.

And that equal, so different from myself, stood before me now, his arms unfolded and set defensively.

"Don't you try and pretend that you know how I fell. You don't…know anything." It was disturbing to see Edward so disarmed, but relieving all the same. At least I was getting somewhere.

"You don't love her, Edward, and I don't think you ever did. I think that you believed you had a duty, a responsibility to protect her, and when she fell in love with you…well, that just made you fell that way all the more. You couldn't break her heart, so you played along." As I spoke words that I couldn't believe were rolling so smoothly off of my tongue, I saw the truth unfolding in his eyes. To be perfectly honest, the whole thing was just a hunch, I couldn't believe that I was actually right "If she hadn't died, you would've stayed with her forever."

"…" His jaw was locked in a last defiant sneer, but it was too late. He couldn't deny the truth now. A part of me jumped for joy, but the way I tore down his defenses, I couldn't stay so happy for long. I didn't like seeing him in pain; even if he had faked it before, this time it was for real.

"I…I'm sorry, Edward. You have to find out what you want-what you really want." I thought he would leave in a rage, slamming the door and breaking the glass in the windows. I thought he'd jerk open his car door, nearly tearing it from his hinges and skid-marking my lawn so unmercifully it would appear that a giant whip had flogged it with all its might.

But he didn't.

I can't remember who it was that struck first, but somewhere after I had finished my speech we had ended up against the back of the dilapidated Chevy, breathing against each other's swollen lips. His auburn hair was tousled out of its usual style and was hanging in his eyes. I had him pinned quite firmly to the black trunk, and his eyes were frantic and hungry-for something other than blood, I hoped. They were also confused; I couldn't blame him. I wasn't too sure what had happened either, but I had a pleasant taste in my mouth and I used my imagination. I liked what I saw.

"Jacob, I…" He looked at me with that stunned expression for a moment, then settled on "annoyed grimace". "Get your filthy paws off of me, you brute." I quickly removed my hands and stepped back, just catching a satisfied smirk that had flitted over Edward's face. He was such a hypocrite. "You got grease on my pants."

"It does wash off, you know. You and your pants will be just fine." He nodded and pulled his car keys from his pocket. It appeared that he had graduated from a Volvo to a Cadillac. I was surprised that I didn't notice them while I was touching-more like groping-him.

"You, ah…are invited to the funeral, if you can make it." Edward straightened his collar. It was quite obvious that he was trying desperately to get back to business, but his body was telling him otherwise. "I sincerely hope you can attend." His eyes pierced into mine, and I noticed a new gleam in them that had been absent before. It sent a shiver down my spine that I tried to conceal.

"I'll be there." Without another word, he left my garage and got into the car, and drove straight through the yard, leaving perfect tire imprints in the grass. I laughed evilly under my breath.

Now I'd definitely be there.

-end