A/N: I do not own Twilight.

Inspired a little bit by Inception, a little bit by a picture of Bella/Kristen Stewart in New Moon. And as you can tell, there was no planning involved in the writing of this ficlet. This is post-Eclipse, sans Jacob running away.


He dreams about her. One dream, in particular, that keeps coming back to him.

He's in his room, in bed and it feels like something's woke him up.

Bella.

She's there, in his doorway, dressed in her regular attire. Layered shirts, cozy jacket. Her hair is long and sleek.

Her skin glows. A moonbeam filters through the window, lands exactly on the oval of her face.

She's casually observing him.

"Bella…"

He always does this. He extends his arm, beckons her to him, wishes she'd join him in bed. (Sometimes for impure reasons and sometimes because he simply needs to hold her.)

She always does this. Her lips quirk in a small smile and she backs out of the doorway, still facing him.

"Bella, please… stay…"

In this dreamscape, she doesn't walk back into his house – she walks back into the forest, so damp and green.

He gets up to follow her because he cannot do anything else.

He's in wolf form now and he's chasing her through the trees. She's always a wisp of moonlight skin, out of his grasp. In confused dream-thought, he always wonders how she can outrun him when he's a wolf since she can barely do so when he's just a boy.

Her laughter drifts through the trees, reaches his ears.

She wants him to catch her.

Sometimes, it's playful, this chase through the forest. She lets him catch up to her and then bolts away when he's just about to grab her. (Don't ask him how a wolf could grab a person but it's a dream and it makes sense.)

Other times, he's desperate. He feels extra moisture on what is his wolf face, like he's crying. This isn't a fun game; he wants her. And she still laughs, but it's mocking in those dreams. She still taunts him but with a red glare in her eyes. He knows then that she's a lost cause but he can't help but run as fast as his muscles will allow.

It's never enough.


He wonders why he never dreams pleasant dreams about Bella.

Well. That's not entirely true.

Sometimes he wakes up and he's halfway into the shower when a piece of last night's dream comes to him and it makes him blush bright red but smile nonetheless.

He wonders if she dreams about him. And if she does (please God let her dream about me), what kind of dreams are they?


"You're beautiful in his dreams," Edward tells her one day, completely out of the blue (or so she thinks).

She had been studying for her finals, something she's not too motivated to do, impeding death and marriage and whatnot.

He had been reading a book in Old German and occasionally nodding along as if he was agreeing with it.

So it was quite abruptly that she was pulled out of the mires of World War Two.

She's silent for a moment, trying to bring her human mind up to speed with his.

Ah.

Jacob.

Jacob dreams of me?

Jacob dreams of me, too?

"I don't know what to say to that," she responds and it's the honest truth.

Bella tries to decipher her feelings. Flattery? Maybe. Surprise? Not so much. Yearning? Oh God, yes.

"You are beautiful," he says with the absolute certainty as pointing out that 1+1=2 and while it reassures Bella of his feelings for her, it falls short of being a compliment. "But the way he sees you in his dreams, it's different. Special. All the ways he loves you are painted upon your face and you're… beautiful."

Once again, Bella is speechless. Not in the ridiculous jaw-on-the-floor way. But there really is nothing she could say to Edward that would be appropriate.

"You should ask him about it sometime," he offers nonchalantly and returns to his book as if he has merely brought up their car-pool routine.

Naturally suspicious, Bella wonders what he's playing at. She narrows her eyes at him. If this is one of his silly plots to get her to give up on immortality and shove her into Jacob's arms, then it's doomed to fail. She swears it. Because nothing, nothing will change her mind and she's getting really tired of Edward's complex mind-fucks.

She stubbornly stays quiet, not willing to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he has piqued her curiosity. Because he hasn't.

(Who is really playing mind games, Bella?)


He wakes up and is utterly convinced that what has happened is a true memory, not a memory of a dream.

So he gets up, bounces into the kitchen, whistles as he pours himself cereal and milk into a bowl, grins foolishly at his father who looks at him like he's lost his marbles.

"What?" he asks his disbelieving father.

Billy looks at his son and comes up with a list of things that could possibly make Jacob this happy. He decides to try for levity first, just in case.

"Have you finally given in and started snorting crack?"

Jacob guffaws from his seat on the couch. The bowl of cereal wobbles precariously in his hand.

"No, not yet."

"What then? Has Bella –"

But he never finishes his sentence because before his very eyes, his son loses all traces of happiness. His entire body seems to come at a standstill, like every molecule in his body has quadrupled in weight.

Jacob closes his eyes against the tears and the anguish.

It was just a dream. Nothing but a dream. Bella had not actually come by last night and told him she was leaving the leech. Granted, she hadn't proclaimed her undying love for him either – but she was not marrying Edward and definitely not renouncing her humanity.

It had been so incredibly, painfully realistic that Jacob had been convinced this morning that it had actually happened. The sheer happiness of the event had swept through his mind, altering reality for a few precious minutes.

He had recalled the hug he had enveloped her in. Only not.

He had made plans to go visit her today, take her out to First Beach. Only never.

"Jake? Son, are you alright?" Concerned, Billy had brought his wheelchair as close as possible to the sofa and had carefully placed a hand on Jake's shoulder.

Jake slowly opened his eyes, and muscle by muscle, movement came back to him. It disturbed Billy greatly to see his once-lively boy so downtrodden and heartbroken. An unwilling adult. Jake had never been a truly carefree kid – and he had his own sickness to blame for that, something he regretted terribly. But his little boy had smiled on through and had made light of the heaviest situations and they were good, one way or another.

Billy wasn't so sure they were good anymore. Maybe they hadn't been for a while now. And while he had respect for the tribe and the traditions, he couldn't help but hate the Cullens and what they had brought upon the Quileute tribe with their mere presence. They had taken his son away from him. He fervently wished on a daily basis that the he could shoulder Jacob's burden for him. But his broken, old body would hear nothing of it. And so he hated the Cullens some more.

He might have had a grudge against Bella, too. But he reasoned that her part in it, at least, was completely un-supernatural. Chances were the same thing would have happened with any other boy instead of Edward – and Jacob would have still been the suffering one in another love triangle. Edward Cullen's eradication from their lives did not guarantee Bella's affections for his son and that was a wholly human situation that he could have dealt with.

"I'm fine, Dad."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, yeah. Just remembered this math test I have today – for which I haven't studied at all. Guess I'm gonna flunk it," Jacob pasted on a sheepish, apologetic smile on his face for his father's benefit.

Billy knew when he was being lied to. Jacob was his son – he had seen all of the expressions his face could produce since his birth. But he let it go because Jacob knew he could talk to him whenever he felt the need. Or so he hoped.

"Eh. Don't worry about it. You've got bigger things on your plate right now. We'll take care of school when things ease up a little with the vampires."

Which meant: when Bella Swan would be a Cullen in more ways than one. And that drove another nail straight through Jacob's already crucified heart. Billy winced as he realized too late his mistake.

"Yeah," Jacob got up off the couch and headed into the kitchen, where he dumped his half-eaten breakfast into the trash can. "I gotta get ready for school," and he disappeared into the bathroom.


"Hey, uh, Jake?"

"Bella?"

"Yeah, hi. It's me."

Silence.

"Uh, how are you?"

More silence.

"Jake? You still there?"

Always and forever, Jake thought with an audible sigh.

"Yeah, I'm still here."

"Oh. OK. Um, how are you?"

Miserable. Waiting for your impending doom. Missing you. Needing you.

"I'm fine. What about you?"

"Uh, good. I'm good. I just finished a study session for my math exam."

He wanted to ask, why are you even bothering anymore?

"Yeah. I need to do some studying too, see if I can catch up."

"Uh, well. If you need help with anything, um, just give me a call and we could study together or something."

"Right."

Total disbelief. That she had called. That they were having this conversation. That the world contained vampires and werewolves and Bella. Total disbelief.

"Bella?"

"Yeah?"

I miss you. I love you. Will you please, please, with cherries on top, come back to me? Like we were before you dashed to Italy? Could we just rewind, please?

He sighed, tired already even though it was early afternoon and he'd just gotten back from school.

"Wanna hang out at First Beach?"

She would probably say no. That asshole bloodsucker would probably forbid her. And that was just another sickly dimension to this whole affair that drove Jacob crazy.

"Yeah? You want to?" she sounded deeply surprised. You have no idea how much I want from you, Bells. "I mean, yeah. I'd love to. I mean, I'd like that."

Oh God, Bella, spoken like a pro: could you be any more awkward?

"Alright. See you in half an hour?" What was he doing?

"Yes. Yes. Uh, see you soon!"

Jacob thunked his head against the kitchen wall.


They don't know what to say to each other at first. And Jacob thinks: come on Bella, must I always do the heavy lifting for us? You're supposedly not broken anymore. Act like it.

Still, she says nothing. If anything, she looks a bit panicked. It hurts to think that he's the one causing her such discomfort. Jacob longs for the days when his presence soothed her in such an evident manner to him, to her, to anyone close enough to watch.

He sighs in defeat just as he thinks, heavy lifting it is –

"I miss you."

The words float on the wind. He stops and stares.

"I really do," she reinforces. "I know it doesn't look that way and things are really different but I miss you because you're my –"

She doesn't get to finish because a) Jacob is sure he'll die a little inside if she tells him he's her best friend (only) and b) he's hugging her suddenly and tightly and wonderfully and her feet are dangling a foot off the sand and her own arms are clasping his shoulders. And then she's laughing. This soft, relieved, happy little laugh.

And when he pulls back to look at her, her face has got those wonderful laughter lines and she is utterly perfect in her happiness.

A bitter undercurrent shadows the moment. See? She's not broken anymore. Cullen's fixed her like you never could.

But he won't let it get in the way. This is too precious to lose. Bella, happy, in his arms, holding him back. And she missed me.

"I missed you too, honey," he confesses and her smile stays on, stable.


They walk some more, and chit-chat some more. It's such a blast from the past that Jacob's not sure if his face hurts from smiling too much or fighting tears.

They eventually drift back to his garage and he roots around the fridge for a soda. The fridge is still out of order as ever and the sodas are still warm.

Bella wants, desperately, to ask him about his dreams. But for the life of her, she cannot think of a subtle enough way to bring it into the conversation. And she's quite tired of hurting Jacob by simply asking bluntly about it. Would he even answer? Truthfully? she wonders.

Maybe if she told him about her dreams.

But no. That would be out of place. Her dreams are improper. And besides, it feels so intimate… she doesn't think she has the strength to survive another intimate, emotionally saturated heart-baring with Jacob.

She loves him too much. Way, way too much. In a way reminiscent of her infatuation with Edward, right at the beginning.

It scares her.

When had Edward become the safe choice? That's what she wants to know.

But now, as she sips the sweet bubbles, she realizes that that is what the vampire has transformed into.

She feels too much, too strongly. Being with Jacob… would require strength and determination. Their future was not sealed with forever-devotion. They were both human, teenagers. Their emotions could always change. He could stop loving her.

Bella knows for certain that losing Jacob – like she had lost Edward – would send her definitively to the loony bin. In the best of cases. In the worst… well. Maybe she wouldn't opt for something as dramatic as the cliffs but she would certainly opt for something more efficient.

She loves Edward, too. Still. But they are changed and never will they be the Edward and Bella they were before that fateful birthday party. Having him back has given her some sort of closure, some sort of stability.

OK. A lot of stability.

Edward will always love her. No matter what. No matter what. He is what he is and he will never change.

Bella is a coward. She is terrified of change.

Jacob will always change, just like the passing seasons. And she doesn't even want him to stop doing that. That's the totally healthy, human life he should lead.

But her… she's a broken ship, trying to make it to the shore before she sinks down into the abyss. Marrying Edward, becoming a vampire – all of this will cost her so much. Her mother, her father, her friends – Jacob.

She will have Edward. And the Cullens. And the type of permanency that was once possible only in her dreams.

If only Bella could find her courage…