This was before:

One of the first things that Jacob remembers noticing about his father was the sound of pure want in his voice when he told the stories of their tribe to Jacob and his sisters before bed.

"They were strong- the wolves," his dad had said. "They had super-human strength, and they were impossibly fast. They could heal quicker than normal humans. Wouldn't that be great?" he'd said, smiling at Rachel, the clumsy twin, the one who always seemed to find some way to injure herself when walking across a flat surface. Rebecca had scowled, before she promptly tipped over and crashed into the ground.

When Jacob and his sisters were little, they'd argue over this. "Strength is the best trait, clearly," Jacob would argue, thinking of the bullies at school, thinking of how much bigger than him they were. "If you were strong, you'd be powerful. Everyone would be scared of you."

Rebecca would scoff. "No, stupid, speed would be the most helpful," she'd retort. Jacob, only freshly ten years old, looked at his older sister and thought of the diary she had hidden under her mattress. He thought of the pictures of Hawaii, the distance between there and La Push, written down in Rebecca's careful handwriting. He noticed the longing in her voice when she talked about running far away, and had wondered when she would leave, curled up in his tiny little room, in the bed already too small for him, arms clutching the teddy bear his mum gave to him before she passed away- the last gift he'd ever receive from her. Jacob wondered if every woman he loved would leave him.

Rachel bit her lip as her siblings stared at her, waiting for her contribution. Rebecca nudged her twin- younger by only a handful of minutes. "You agree with me, right Rach?" she'd said, her voice soft. Rachel would look between her siblings, and then back at her dad, confined to a wheelchair.

"I think quick healing would be the best," she'd said, a flash of pain flickering in her eyes at the thought of her mum being crushed between two cars, of her dad losing the loss of his legs due to the genetic disease he'd passed on to her. Billy's hands had tightened on the wheels of his chair, skin paler than it had any right to be, stretched across his knuckles. Jacob would notice all of this, notice how pale his dad's cheeks had gone, and he'd take it all in with wide eyes, observant even in his young age.

"What would you want dad?" he'd asked, always the peacekeeper. Always trying to spare his dad from any more pain.

His dad had paused for a moment. "My grandfather said all of those things were great," he'd said, causing the kids to roll their eyes at their silly dad who still believed. It wasn't like Santa Clause, or the Tooth Fairy. He didn't pretend to believe, for the kids' sake. Despite the kids not believing in much of anything, lately. He really, truly, honest to God believed in the wolves, in the stories. Jacob didn't know what to make of this, most days. The others, he'd just roll his eyes. "But the best part was the friendship between pack members," he'd continued, before shaking his head. "No- friendship isn't strong enough of a word. They were family, brothers. They knew everything about each other, and they always, always had each other's backs. I think that would be the best part."

The siblings had pondered this for a moment, until Rebecca leaned over and tugged on Jacob's hair (mostly out of jealousy, jealousy for her little brother whose hair grew faster than she could ever hope). "If you were fast, you could catch me," she'd tease, dancing out of his reach. Rachel would roll her eyes and climb into her dad's lap as Jake and Becca chased each other around the house.

(It would be another six years before his dad would tell him the stories again, but this time, when he did, Jacob would know they were true, every single one of them. When he first makes the change in front of his dad, he doesn't miss the longing in his eyes. He doesn't miss the way his dad stares hopelessly down at his legs that didn't do what they were supposed to. It would take him a few weeks, because of this, before he exploded, before he was screaming I never wanted this, I want to be normal, this isn't right, isn't natural, I don't want this. Billy had stared up at his only son who was practically vibrating with anger, blurring between man and wolf, and pray aloud that Jacob would understand why he had been given this wonderful gift one day.

Jacob would scoff, kicking a chair on his way out. Gift my ass, he'd mutter, before giving into the anger.)

This was after:

Jacob told the stories of his tribe to Renesmee, trying to lull the little girl into sleep. Her hand fluttered against his cheek as she struggled with her need to sleep, and her desire to hear more about Jacob's family. Her family, because even though she was young, she knew Jacob was hers just as much as she was Jacob's.

"I can tell the rest to you in the morning," he said, chuckling. "We have forever to continue this, Nessie."

"Forever and ever?" she asked, punctuating her question with a yawn, her eyelids fluttering shut.

"And ever," Jacob agreed, smiling as she drifted off into sleep. It would only take a few minutes before images would start up in his head again, Renesmee's hand still resting on his cheek. Flashes of Bella and Edward, of the rest of her vampire family, but also of him, and the wolves. Renesmee dreamed she was running with them, slower than only Leah, the fastest of the pack.

"It seems like only yesterday that I was holding you and telling you about our history," his dad said, pulling Jacob out of Renesmee's dreams. Jacob laughed softly, careful not to disturb the sleeping girl in his arms. "Kids grow up way too fast."

Jacob snorted. "You're telling me," he scoffed, and Billy laughed.

"Yeah, I guess nothing will ever compare to Renesmee's growth," he agreed. "At least it'll only be a couple more years 'till she's fully grown. Then you won't have to worry as much."

Jacob sighed as Renesmee's dreams focused on her parents, on the unconditional love even she could sense between them. "I can't even picture her grown. I mean, it was only last year that she was even born, and now she's smarter than I am."

"Please," Billy scoffed. "She's always been smarter than you have," he joked, and Jacob cracked a smile. "One day that will change. I mean- she'll always be smarter than you, there's no doubt about that- but one day, she will be grown, and just like your great grandfather, and his father before him, you'll fall in love with her."

Jacob shook his head. "Nobody's ever imprinted on a vampire before. We don't know that it will be the same," he argued, and Billy sighed.

"She's only half vampire Jake. And that's not how imprinting works- it doesn't matter what or who she is. She's still your other half."

"Doesn't she get a say?" Jacob asked, only half aware that he was repeating lines Bella had once delivered, what seemed like many lifetimes ago. "I know you think we imprint to make stronger wolves, and that Nessie's a good chance for that, but-"

"I don't think that anymore Jacob," Billy interrupted. "Look- I think imprinting is something of a shortcut to finding your one true love. You're made for Nessie, just like she's made for you. She'll live forever and now, so will you. She needs something strong to put up with her family, and you can do that. She needs you to help her be a kid, even if she will be fully grown by the time she's seven, and you give her that. You need someone who you won't be afraid of hurting, and Ness is strong enough to get through anything. Even now, with her as young as she is, the connection between you two is extremely powerful. She'll have a choice Jacob- I know her parents will make sure she doesn't feel like she has to be with you because of this- but she'll choose you, because you're perfect together."

Jacob looked down at Renesmee, only two years of life under her belt, and smiled as her dreams focused on him, on catching fireflies at night with Seth and Leah. "Maybe we will be," he agreed, and Billy shook his head.

"Maybe you already are."

This was before:

She heard them, from inside the womb. Her mum's voice sounded like music, even back when she was human. She realises now that her dad's voice sounds soft, but back then, it just sounded scared. It wasn't until the week she was born that she started to become aware, that she realised her movements were hurting her mum. She stopped stretching so much after that, stopped dancing at the sound of her parents voices. But if her mum's voice sounded musical, and her dad's soft and hard, all at the same time, his voice was the most beautiful sound she'd heard.

She danced the most when she could sense him near- she didn't have to hear him, to know he was around. She could feel it in every part of her developing body, could feel the way her mum was responding to the pull to Jacob, not knowing that it was all her.

She explained it to her, once, during her fifth year of life. She placed her hand on her mum's cheek and she sent memories of hearing Jacob's laugh for the first time, of how warm it made her feel inside, even before she was born. Her mum had smiled at her, like she was pleased it all made sense, like she was happy that everything had fallen so perfectly into place. Her mum- a sucker for a happy ending, her mum, who had smiled when Renesmee revealed she was crushing on Seth, hard. Her mum, who laughed when Jacob broke Seth's ankle for daring to break her heart for the first time. Her mum, who hugged her so tightly she was worried she couldn't breathe when Renesmee figured out about the imprinting, when she was okay with it, all before she turned two.

"So you don't regret it?" she asked, concern etched into her beautiful and unchanging face.

Renesmee smiled at her. "No," she said, her voice a perfect blend of her mum's musical tone and her father's soft, velvet sound. "When Jacob imprinted on me, it just saved me a lot of time and effort of searching for him," she laughed, and her mum laughed along with her. "You only had to wait until you were seventeen to find your soul mate, but dad waited over a hundred years. I'd found my soulmate before I was even born. I'm lucky," she declared, and Bella smiled, pulled her into a hug.

"I'm glad it was Jake," her mum eventually said, and Renesmee nodded, understanding the pain that her pull to Jacob had brought upon her mother, and father, before they knew it was her, before they understood.

This was after:

She read him poetry. They found their own meadow, smaller than her parent's one, but just as beautiful (if not more so, as Renesmee secretly thought). They lay in the sunlight together, her skin glowing softly, and she read to him.

"I looked at all the trees, and didn't know what to do. A box made out of leaves. What else was in the woods? A heart, closing. Nevertheless. Everyone needs a place. It shouldn't be inside of someone else," she read, her voice quieter than usual, somehow more magical. His head was in her lap, eyes closed. She knew logically that he didn't glow in the sunlight like the rest of her family, but it seemed like Jacob would always defy the rules. His glow wasn't as obvious as hers, but it was there, subtle, but beautiful. "I kept my mind on the moon. Cold moon, long night's moon. From the landscape: a sense of scale. From the dead: a sense of scale. I turned my back on the story. A sense of superiority. Everything casts a shadow. Your body told me in a dream that it's never been afraid of anything."

"I'm not sure I like that one," Jacob whispers, and Renesmee closes the book and sighs softly.

"It's beautiful," she argues gently, shuffling down until she was wrapped in his warm arms. She places her hand onto his cheek, and sends images of Jacob in wolf form, running into the forest, leaving her behind. Sends through images of them standing beneath the moon, exchanging rings. Sends images of her dreams of his body connected with hers.

"It's wrong," Jacob retorts, lazily, when the images slow and then stop. "My place is inside you Renesmee, always. I don't think it's wrong to have your place be another person."

She considers this for a long moment. We're different, she tells him silently. We're imprinted. Everything is more intense for us. Normal people don't feel this way.

Jacob shakes his head, eyes finally fluttering open. "Only I'm imprinted," he reminds her, smiling. She's known about their bond for almost as long as he has, but it's taken him longer to understand it the way she does.

She uses her gift to show him the first time they met, the first time their eyes connected. She shows him the love she felt for him, right from the beginning. I imprinted too, she tells him, and sends through another image- one of Jacob leaning over to kiss her.

It takes him a beat longer than it should, but when their lips connect, it feels like fireworks. She feels his hesitancy, always afraid of pushing her into something she doesn't want, and in response she presses her hand harder against his cheek, showing him how much she wants this, showing him how long she's been waiting.

I'm not a child, she tells him. I won't break if you press a little too hard.

"You're only six," he murmurs against her lips. He tastes like hot chocolate and marshmallows. "You taste like deer," he chuckles, and she blushes.

I stopped for a snack on the way here, she says, and he grins, teeth catching on her lips. I love you Jacob.

"You're my entire life," he responds, placing one last kiss on her lips, before picking up the forgotten book. "Tell me about the dream where we pull the bodies out of the lake, and dress them in warm clothes again," he read, Renesmee's head nuzzling into his chest. She listened to his heart beating, the perfect background noise to the poem, and closed her eyes.

Tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us. These, our bodies, possessed by light.

Tell me we'll never get used to it.