A/N:Wrote this in one hour of straight writing. Enjoy!

Warning: Character deaths!

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight...it's Stephanie Meyer's...she can keep it.

The Wake

He watched as she slept, sitting by her window in the dark night. He wanted to get closer, wanted to wrap her in his arms and hold her tight, but he knew how hard it would be to keep his teeth to himself. It would be torture to be close to her. He cursed his foolishness, remembering how Emmett had suggested they hunt that night. He had refused, wanting instead to spend the night with her…

Now, her scent wafted towards him. He could almost taste the salt and iron in her blood, almost feel the crimson liquid filling his mouth and running down his throat. So badly he wanted to sink his teeth into her throat, to finally taste what had been tempting him for so long.

Moonlight filtered into the window as he watched his reflection, his eyes growing darker as he imagined what she might taste like. She smelled so good…one bite couldn't hurt.

He was across the room in moments, self control forgotten for the first time in years. He trailed his cold fingers across the warm flesh of her neck, watching her squirm under his touch, then he bent low over her, opening his mouth around her throat and biting into her.

He knew she'd woken. At first she screamed, then calmed, and he knew what she was thinking. She thought he'd finally given in, finally decided to turn her. A cruel laugh grew in his throat as he drank from her, and he growled with pleasure as she began to struggle, the realization hitting her that what she wanted was not to be.

"Edward," she moaned as strength left her, as he drained her. He licked at the punctures he'd left as he felt the life leave her, relishing the taste of her flesh and her blood. She died in his arms, and slowly he regained control of himself, staring down at her cold, lifeless body…realizing what he'd done.

"Bella?" he whispered. "Bella, wake up!" he shook her shoulder, but she was not to be roused. He'd actually killed her. His Bella…she was gone.

That was when he heard the howl.

He'd told her once that he wouldn't live without her, but given the situation he realized he truly did not want to die…not by werewolves. He was out the window in a shot, sprinting through the forest, trying to get away. But the howling was on all sides now, and growls of rage froze him in his tracks. He fell to his knees, knowing that if he had tears he would be crying, and slowly the wolves stepped from the trees, surrounding him.

He did not fight, just let them tear at his flesh, one word on his lips, never screamed, only muttered, the entire time.

"Bella…Bella."

And soon, he was gone.

.-.-.

Jacob gazed out over the water, watching the waves crash down over and over again. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his suit pants, wanting nothing more than to loose the restricting clothes and go for a run.

He kicked at the dirt as he made his way to the tree, their tree, as he'd come to think of it. He sat back on it, still watching the water, remembering Bella's reckless jump from the cliffs and half wishing to do one as well.

But he knew he couldn't, not now. She wouldn't have wanted that, he knew. She would have wanted him to keep living. She had, after all, wanted to be among the dead, in a way, and had almost told him straight out to stay among the living.

He sighed and thought over their time together, all of the hope she'd held out for Edward when he'd been right there. He'd warned her, too…after he knew it was all true, he'd told her that the bloodsuckers were no good...but she hadn't listened.

And now…

The rest of them had been at her funeral, but they'd left shortly after. The main one, Carlisle, had spoken to Sam briefly, expressing his apologies for the broken treaty and assuring him that they would not be coming back to Forks.

Good riddance, Jacob thought, ripping a piece of bark from the tree and throwing it out into the water. No more bloodsuckers…it was a blessing.

He would never say it out loud, but he was glad the treaty had been broken, glad to be rid of them…and he'd enjoyed ripping Edward apart for what he'd done to Bella.

"Jacob!" He heard his father's voice floating over on the wind and, with a groan, he slipped from the tree and ran back along the road, heading home so he and Billy could go to Bella's wake.

.-.-.

Charlie clutched at his ex-wife's hand as they greeted their guests, directing them towards the kitchen where food was laid out. He stayed stoic as people offered their condolences, but Renée had buried her head in his shoulder, having waved away Phil's suggestion that she take some time alone.

Her husband had shrugged and wandered off to help with the flow of traffic in the kitchen and living room, leaving Charlie to tend to the hysterical woman. He had never expected something like this to bring them back together, and he almost felt guilty for the twinge of happiness that came from having Renée in his arms once again

But one thought of finding Bella sprawled lifeless on her bed was enough to drive that away.

"Charlie," Billy Black said, bringing Charlie from his thoughts. He took his friend's hand and looked up at him with his dark and knowing gaze. "Our sympathies." Charlie nodded and looked from Billy to his son, Jacob, who stood behind him looking grim.

"Thank you," Charlie managed as the two passed by him. He wrapped his arm tighter around his ex-wife, peering out the door.

"Who're you looking for?" Renée asked, finally lifting her head from his shoulder.

"I invited the Cullens," he said, looking down at her and carefully wiping tears from her cheek with his thumb. "But I don't think they're coming."

.-.-.

"We should go, Carlisle," Esme said, watching carefully as the man clutched the wheel tighter.

"We can't," he said. "We broke the treaty, and they'll be there."

"Charlie invited us," Esme protested. "That has to mean something to them." Carlisle only shook his head, his jaw set as he drove quickly down the road.

"Fine," Esme said. "But Charlie's your friend. Remember that."

Carlisle hit the breaks, bringing the car, and the two behind it, to a screeching halt. He looked over at his 'wife,' the woman he'd turned so he could love. The woman he trusted most. He sighed.

"Fine," he said. He turned the car around, waving for the other two to follow, and drove back the way he'd come.

.-.-.

"Where are we going now?" Emmett groaned as he turned his jeep around to follow his 'father' back the way they'd come.

"The wake?" Rosalie suggested.

"There's no way," Emmett said with a shake of his head, but he didn't really believe it. He didn't have to be Alice to know that Rosalie was right.

.-.-.

"Alice?" Jasper asked as they followed the Jeep down the road in Rosalie's convertible.

She nodded. "The wake," she said.

.-.-.

Jacob could sense them before they entered the door, before they even got out of their cars, and he bristled at their scent. Bloodsuckers, there, in Bella's house. He wouldn't stand for it, but one look at his father stayed him. The man's eyes were sad, darker than Jacob had ever seen them, and he slowly calmed himself down, trying to catch sight of the others before they did anything drastic.

.-.-.

"Carlisle, Esme!" Charlie said with surprise, turning from a group of fellow police officers as he heard the door open. He took in his friends and their children, smiling at the sight. "Thank you for coming.

"We wouldn't have missed it," Carlisle replied. He caught sight of the young Black boy staring at them from across the room and, with a whispered warning to his family that they stay close to the door, he wove his way through the crowd to reach him.

"I'm sorry this has happened," he said, extending his hand to the young man, watching the anger fill his eyes, amazed by the self-control he had to keep from turning then and there.

"As are we," spoke the boy's father, Billy. Carlisle nodded, but didn't look away from Jacob. He waited, and slowly the young man relaxed and took his hand.

"We've all lost someone here," Carlisle said. "Charlie most of all. It would be a shame for him to lose something more."

Jacob nodded slowly and took Carlisle's hand, looking down at his father. "What about Sam?" he asked. Billy shook his head.

"I will take care of Sam," he said, and rolled his wheelchair away, leaving his son alone with Carlisle. Jacob looked back up at him and Carlisle felt the boy's grasp on his hand tighten, then relax, and a look of exhaustion came into his eyes.

"You're right," he said. "If Charlie needs anything now, it's his friends. We can't take that away from him."

"Shall we rework the treaty?" Carlisle queried, letting go the boy's hand. They each let their arms drop to their sides and Jacob shook his head.

"Let's cut our losses," he said.

"I think that's fair," Carlisle said with a sad smile and a small nod.

He turned and left, and Jacob watched him go, wondering what Sam would say. He'd never thought he would have to make such a decision. Sam was the leader, not him…why had Carlisle spoken to him?

"You have great self control," Sam's voice came from behind Jacob. He set his hand on the younger man's shoulder and Jacob looked up at him quizzically. "I would have torn him to shreds in a heart beat, any of us would have, he knew that."

"Oh," was all Jacob could say.

"What did you agree on?"

"They're staying," Jacob said. Sam nodded and squeezed Jacob's shoulder before returning to where he'd come from, leaving Jacob standing in the middle of a mob of people but feeling beyond alone.

"Oh, Bells," he muttered before turning to push through the crowd in search of his father.