Whatever Doesn't Kill You
There's a saying that I hear a lot. "Whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger." It's one of those wryly encouraging things that the older pack members like to tell the rest of us. It's supposed to be comforting, I guess. Or maybe it's a way of saying that as long as you survive something, you can be done with it. It was one of the things they said to the ones who had just changed, with a kind of half smile, as if to tell them "this is how life is. It hurts sometimes, but look at who you can become"
I could feel Sam thinking it hard at me this afternoon. It was funny, when he invited me "just to talk", I wasn't sure I wanted to go, and see him and Emily so happy together. Anyway, it was just me and the two of them, which was weird, but I guess it was nice too. Emily met me at the door, and she smiled at me, sort of sad and invited me in. Sam was sitting at the kitchen table, with his arms crossed. For a solid three weeks, everybody I know has been trying to convince me to stay away, to try and forget about her. I thought maybe I'd be getting another lecture. Sam looked at me, and said "Whatever you do, it'll be hard." Hard. No kidding, it would rip me to bits. I nodded. "Make a decision you can live with. We'll be here, whatever you choose."
And that was it. Emily stood at his shoulder smiling, and I guess that's what made my choice for me. Seeing how much they love each other just made me that more determined to see the woman I loved, one more time.
I left, and they stood on the porch, watching me.
When I came home, Billy was gone. Probably out with Charlie trying to console him or something.
I didn't have anything to wear. My closet was depressingly bare, I'd had to get rid of most of my clothes, because they were either about five sizes too small, or shredding into pieces somewhere. It probably didn't matter much anyway. I was just going to stay long enough to see her. I found my best shirt, in the back of my closet. It was wrinkled, and too short in the sleeves, but it was what I had. I was a deep blue, almost black, and when I shrugged it on and glanced in the mirror I looked almost respectable. My hair had gotten shaggy, but there wasn't anything I could do about that. I pulled it back, and tried a smile, just for the effect.
No good, it looked like my face was cracking in half.
The grim, haggard look suited me better anyway.
I thought of her. I'm always thinking of her. I wondered if he ever noticed the way she smiles when she's surprised into laughter. I can't decide if I hope he has, or wish he hasn't. I wonder if he knows the slow smile when she thinks she's being reckless. I think that smile may be just for me, but it's too hard to think of.
It was getting dark. I grimaced once at my reflection, and took a deep breath. Maybe I would stay here. And never see her again. That prospect was like a kick in the gut. However hard this would be, I would go. "Whatever doesn't kill you.." I hoped it was true, and stepped out into the golden evening. I rode my motorcycle down twisting, tree lined roads. As much as I dreaded what I was headed towards, there was a part of me who wanted to come roaring in fast and loud. It was the raging, angry of me that whispered "maybe she'll change her mind".A small crowd had already gathered at the beach, and I stared out at them, all of her freinds and family. It was a perfect scene, the perfect moment. I owed it to her not to ruin it. I parked my bike and hiked out to a dune. I could see blurry faces from there, but I wouldn't have to talk to anyone.
I could see him, a stark black outline against the brilliant sunset. The first faint stars were flickering, and I saw her before I expected to. Her long fingers rested lightly on Charlie's arm, and it looked like he was trying valiantly not to cry. Even from my distance, I could see she was beautiful. That wasn't surprising. What was surprising, just a little was the expression on her face. She was radiant with joy, and I could see her eyes gleaming.
The priest began the ceremony as the sky grew darker.
Scattered words floated up to me, and I closed my eyes against the figures. "to have and to hold", he said. She should have been mine to hold. I would have kept her warm and safe. We would have had a good life together. I shifted my feet and listened to the drifting words. "Till death do you part." Death. I wondered, did mean the death of a human? I looked down again, memorizing her silhouette, the way her long white dress floated through the wind. Her lips moved, smooth and slow to speak that inevitable "I do". She looked up, just as slow, and I think she might have seen me. Maybe I caught her eyes, but maybe it was my imagination. She turned back, graceful still and looked at him like he was the only thing holding her bones together.. She smiled then, and it was a smile I'd never seen. Every beautiful sunset I've ever seen or imagined was deep in her eyes, and I knew she was gone. Right then, as their eyes met she was his, only, to have and to hold.
Author's Note: Thanks for reading! I'm very much an Edward/Bella fan, but I've always had a soft spot for Jacob. This is a little different from what I usually write, I hoped it turned out okay. Any suggestions would be appreciated.
The inspiration for this came from Indigo44's Edward centric poem "My Cure". You should go check it out! Again, thanks for reading.
