A/N: Yay is me, I have returned. You may rejoice, my raving minions. :D
This was inspired by many, many random Blackwater pieces I read. And ItsCuzOfTheFame, my desi girl, I heart you.
Be warned, this is good solid angst.
Looking back Jake, I think all we ever needed was a chance.
Not a big one. A small chance, just a shot at maybe something we could've been.
Sometimes, after we're done running patrols, you fall asleep on the couch in my living room, I'll look over. And wonder. Contemplate. Think of all the things that could've happened. If she'd never been born things would have been different. It can still be different. You can hold me when it hurts without feeling guilty, thinking that you're leading me on. I can lean my head on your shoulder when we're watching those crappy Saturday night movies without trying to fight that tingling feeling at the pit of my stomach. You can kiss me. Love me. Be mine.
I imagine us walking into your living room, breaking the news to our parents. Your father would be, well, Billy would be over the moon. My mom, on the other hand, would yell the roof down. We'd calm her down though, and she'd be happy for us. Happy that I was happy.
I see a white dress. A black tux, if I could ever get you into one. White beaches in some country far, far away.
A small house on the rez, away from most of the people, where it would just the two of us. Lazy, languid afternoons spent tangled in each other.
Maybe even a couple of kids, a boy and a girl. Or triplets. I've even picked out there names.
Its sick in a weird, sad way, isn't it?
The happily ever after that never would happen.
Not until I try to make it.
Not unless I corner you after this god-damn dinner. The Cullens had to go all out for your imprint's 18th birthday, we've been dragged along to watch. It makes you happy, so I come for that reason alone.
Maybe if I tell you, if I came get the words out somehow, maybe, just maybe, you'll feel the same way too. Its worth a shot. Hell, at least I'll know I tried.
I take a breath, bracing myself, looking for the opportunity to take you from this place. The Cullens have a nice garden, its quiet there.
Oh.
Oh God.
Jake, what are you doing?
You're down on your knees.
You're pulling out a tiny, velvet covered box.
Every breath in my body seems to vanish.
It's not me your holding it out to.
No.
It's the half breed. The imprint. It was always was.
She's gasping, hands flying to clutch at her hair, yelling out something.
Yes.
No.
The room erupts, our brothers, the Cullens and Denalis, the other half breed, all swarming around the two of you now. Not that you notice Jake, you're too busy wrapped in her arms.
Oh God, it hurts.
I can see Bella heaving with sobs with tears will never fall.
Mine do.
When you pull away finally, when you finish shaking their hands, accepting their congratulations, you look over their heads, searching for me.
You see me, seem to mistake my tears for those of joy, and grinning wildly, gesture me over.
I go, dazed, and stand next to you as cameras flash, taking pictures me and the happy couple. Me and you two.
I don't scream. I've stopped crying. I don't hit you until you hurt as much I am hurting. I want to do all these things, but I don't.
I've never wanted much Jake. Just a chance.