A/N: Funny thing is, I was tempted to sum this "in which Jacob mopes and b*tches like a proper wolfy emo." But I think the current summary has more of a ring to it. Anywho, this takes place right after the epilogue of Eclipse, during which our lovable, mopey hero takes off into the woods in heartbroken pain.
Reviews are much appreciated.
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Raw Meat and Dirt
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My throat was dry, the flow of air in and out of my lungs rough and burning. I could feel it as the ragged breaths tore through me: the panic settling in. The anger. The fear. The heartbreak. I couldn't help but think...I couldn't understand...
No. Just the forest. Just the canopy of green leaves and the soft pitter-patter of morning dew on my nose. It was misty here, in the forest. I wasn't exactly sure which forest, though—I hadn't stopped running for days. Anything, anything, to keep my mind off of—
Dammit! Not that!
If I could've, I probably would have torn myself apart with all the anger, all the grief. I don't even know why; I hadn't really expected things to turn out differently. But I'd hoped. I'd hoped so hard that I was nearly soaring, until reality set in and sent me crashing back down to hard, solemn fact:
I wasn't the right type of monster for her.
She wanted a filthy bloodsucker instead.
It hurt to think about it—that she'd chosen Edward over me. That she'd put me through all the pain, the crying, the struggling, and I still hadn't come through. The worst part was, I knew she loved me back. It just wasn't enough. Not enough for her to pick me. Not enough to save her.
Why the hell did I keep dwelling on it? It was like I was taking a white-hot poker, or a chainsaw, and touching it to my wrists: it burned every time I did it, and it left me bleeding and raw; in pain. And now I was just a sick masochist.
I hadn't expected this out of my life. I wished...I wished that I could've just gone back to that first day on the beach, that moment she'd asked to walk with me...so that I could tell her to screw off.
But I couldn't even do that, could I? Even as I thought it, I knew I couldn't. I was too weak for that. I loved her. I needed her. And I didn't even know why!
I hadn't imprinted—I wasn't bound to her or anyone else. But I kept crawling back to her, like a dog with his tail between his legs. A glutton for punishment. But not this time. I was never coming back.
My heart lurched a little in my chest.
This was stupid. Stupid and pointless. I'd left, ran away like a coward, to escape all the memories and feelings I didn't want. But even out here, in God knows where, I was still bleeding over her, still kneeling down in front of her pedestal.
If Ephraim could see me now. He'd be so proud.
I was a wolf. I was a monster. I didn't have to love or cry or hurt. I didn't even have to think. I was just curling yellow fangs and heavy, clawed paws; bristling copper fur and thick sinews; blood and bone.
I wasn't human at all.
Sam and the others? They didn't need me. They already had one love-sick puppy howling at the moon, and I didn't think Leah wanted any company.
My dad would get along just fine without me. He'd managed just fine when we'd lost my mom, when Rebecca and Rachel had left—one more stab to the heart wouldn't kill him. And wasn't it better this way? Solitude. No pack. No vampires. No angsting. No B–
I shook my head. That was the last thing I needed.
What I did need was water. My throat was dry, burning, cracked with thirst for something moist and wet to dampen it and ease its pain. I heard the trickling nearby, filling my ears: the soft babbling of a brook running through the mossy grounds. I leapt over a felled tree and stopped by the waterfront.
I was a mess; my image, reflected back at me in the clear water over green, black, and grey pebbles, told me as much. Mud, dirt, and twigs were tangled in the snares of my coat. My eyes, sunken in the set of my face, looked weary and drawn. But whatever. It wasn't like I was trying to pose for a portrait.
I dipped my muzzle into the cool water and slurped, letting the wet whisk through my teeth and wash the burning out of my mouth. I guzzled it a little, just for kicks, and swallowed it.
The moon was low in the sky, almost like it was touching the horizon. Yellow-white, pockmarked, and round; full and luminous. And the night sky was empty, wiped clean of stars, even though I was far away from any city. It was all black. Like my mood.
Huh. Still moping about the Vampire Girl?
A wild snarl tore through my throat and my jaw locked, even though I knew the voice was in my head.
Not going to respond? S'cool. Patrol is boring without any bloodsuckers to kill, so I figured I'd settle for heckling you instead.
It was Leah. Of course it was Leah. Only she'd be cruel enough, twisted enough. Only she'd be enough of a bitch.
Says the melodramatic wolf who's run way from home and abandoned his family and friends over some girl.
I turned from the river and trundled off through the trees. I wasn't going to give her a response.
This is stupid, you know. Running away, I mean. I got my heart broken and even I didn't run way to start crying and angsting about it. Man up and face the truth:
She doesn't give a damn about you.
She's perfectly happy skipping off into the twilight with her bloodsucking bastard and vampire family. She's going to pop out a million little Bellas and Eddies, all like him. And then she'll be one of them.
I was cringing with every thought, faltering in my strides, but I pushed on. Somewhere nearby, I could hear the faint galloping of hooves. Elks.
She'll murder, at least once. She'll find a human to kill, and she'll gorge herself on the blood. Make her mouth sticky with it. 'Cause that's what monsters do. Maybe she'll even lick her fingers.
Know what the best part is? The bloodsuckers will have broken the treaty. You're going to miss out on a lot of fucking fun. We're going to storm in there and tear them apart, limb from limb. Burn them. Slaughter them all. I'll make sure to get Bella for you; that way, you'll know for sure that her soul'll be burning in hell–
I really don't remember what else Leah said. I only remember that it was too much, that it'd pushed me over the edge. There was a sound like a million rain drops falling into the soft dirt, the sound of fleeing elks. I heard the braying, the frightened yelping, and my own jagged breath, whistling in and out between my clenched teeth.
And suddenly, there was something warm and wet all over my mouth, all over my nose. It was dripping into my fur, clinging to it. My jaw was snapping, tearing angrily at something squirming under me, soft and tender in my teeth.
Somewhere, in my bloodlust, I'd attacked a baby elk.
It was bawling helplessly, kicking at dirt as it struggled to survive. To fight through its pain and make it through.
I thought, not for the first time, of my pain. Of Bella. My love. My heart. My soul. My everything. And how she'd abandoned me. How she'd left me here, alone, for my heart to rot. For me to wither and die.
And eventually, what Leah had said would come true, wouldn't it? She'd turn into one of them. She wouldn't be my Bella anymore. She'd kill. And then the wolves would kill her. Kill all of them. I thought about that for a moment, about how it made me feel.
And then I took my paw and snapped the babe's neck.
I was doing it a favor, anyway. Dying would be a hell of a lot better than trying to live through the pain.
I let the rhythm take me, let everything else fall away, fall behind me. I couldn't stop running, because the truth would eventually catch up, and I wasn't ready to deal with the pain. It was better this way, as a wolf, where my only concerns were the bloody taste of elk on my tongue and the feel of the soft earth under my paws—only raw meat and dirt.
I kept running, kept running till I left everything else behind; until everything else was gone.
And Jacob? Jacob was dead.