Chapter Eight
By late-August, the concept of therapy was real, but Jacob's attendance was not. He'd made arrangements over the phone to announce that he was leaving, back near the fourth session. (The therapist was slightly relieved that he was leaving because she couldn't ever get through to him.)
As long as nobody else knew, Jacob would be dropped off, and then he would run. He'd usually be back in an hour, but today he either felt especially full or especially empty.
Over the years as his depression grew and grew, weighed him down with every minute for almost a century, he would phase and leave for days. Things could be perfectly fine on Tuesday night, but then he would disappear and not be back until Sunday afternoon. Renesmee had learned to not try to find him since there would be no use; he didn't have a pack for her to consult to, and he would just come back in a worse condition. When he disappeared, he usually came back slightly better, slightly brighter, and slightly less suicidal. It was the slightness that counted.
Today, Jacob got out of Renesmee's car, walked into the building, waited for her to leave, and headed to his garage to take care of things. He would be heading east soon, and the journey was a lot better when he was drunk.
Most times he went to Canada, other times he went to Portland, and sometimes he went to Puget Sound or further east. He rarely went west; all that was there was what was left of La Push, which was hardly anything. He'd be digging his own grave - again.
Today, Jacob felt like Spokane...or whatever it was called now. He had never needed a pack to begin with; he was just too good at being alone.
When Renesmee arrived at the therapist's office at eleven, she expected to wait for a few minutes and then see him again. He'd been doing so well, going to all his therapy sessions. The fact that he'd claimed he was feeling sort of better last week made up for the fact that he'd been skipping out on taking his medications. Maybe the medications would never work, but therapy did. He would be all better soon, though, refreshed and new and hers.
She waited until 11:05, when she went inside the building. Dr. Gutierrez was the therapist's name, Renesmee believed. Finding the door to Dr. Gutierrez's office, Renesmee knocked sharply even though she had once been advised by Jacob to not interrupt them under any circumstances.
"Hey, it's just me," she said, swinging the door open. "Ness."
Dr. Gutierrez sat at her small table, and she seemed to be in the middle of eating lunch. She quickly wiped at her mouth with a napkin. "Did Alyssa send you?" she asked.
"No," Renesmee replied, forgetting to lie. "Where is Jacob?"
"Jacob? Jacob Black?"
"Yes, Jacob Black."
"He hasn't -" Dr. Gutierrez backtracked. "Would you please shut the door and have a seat, miss?"
Renesmee turned to close the door and then sat across from Dr. Gutierrez. "Where is he?" she demanded.
"Ness, right?" Dr. Gutierrez asked for clarification.
"For a therapist, you certainly like to beat around the bush," Renesmee judged, "but yes, that is my name. So where is Jacob?"
"Ness," Dr. Gutierrez began, "Jacob Black has not been here in almost a month. A few weeks ago, somebody called in and cancelled his appointments. He no longer has any ties to me or any other staff members in this clinic."
Renesmee felt her heart drop to the ground. "What?" Her voice cracked.
"That is what happened," Dr. Gutierrez reinforced.
Tears began to sting Renesmee's eyes. "But - but -" she stammered. "But he was doing so well. I can't believe..." She rubbed at her eyes and kept them covered as she leaned over, her elbows pressed to her knees. She took a few moments to get her thoughts together until she looked up again, eyes red and moist. "What happened?" she murmured. "Or are you not allowed to tell me?"
"I suppose that because he is no longer my client, I am permitted to discuss him," Dr. Gutierrez replied, "as well as because you are...family?"
"Yeah," Renesmee clarified. "He's my - we're together."
"Well, Jacob was, unfortunately, not making much progress. When he did attend his sessions with me, he barely spoke, and when he did, he was very vague. He revealed that he was not taking his medications, as well. Soon after he started seeking help from me, somebody called in to cancel the rest of his planned sessions."
"Was it him?" Renesmee asked. "Was it Jacob who called?"
"Yes."
Renesmee bit her lip and looked out the window behind Dr. Gutierrez. The clouds were rolling in. It was going to rain soon, and because she lived in Forks, it wouldn't be the warm summer rain; it would be the cold September rain that wasn't scheduled to arrive until...well, September. Forks was always ahead of things like that. Forks was ahead, but Renesmee was so far behind.
"Ness," Dr. Gutierrez said, getting Renesmee's attention back. "Has Jacob harmed or is he planning to harm himself or others?"
"No," Renesmee lied without batting an eye.
As much as Renesmee didn't like going to La Push, there was still the chance that Jacob was there. When he came back from running away, he usually told Renesmee he had been in La Push, and to not look for him when he did run away in order to respect his wishes.
Renesmee didn't mind being disrespectful.
She drove straight to Jacob's old garage. It was one of the last things left of La Push from the last century. For every one of Jacob's birthdays, one of his gifts was an offer of renovation to the garage, and Jacob always kindly accepted it, but he never had anything crazy done to it. It was virtually the same since before Renesmee had been born: red, comfortable, vintage. Renesmee hated the garage, though. She hated the fact that Jacob kept returning to it, to his old life, when he could integrate himself into her life a little more (if that was even possible). Also, it had been his and her mom's favorite place when they were teenagers. She wasn't as disgusted by that fact as she was annoyed, and she didn't even know why she was annoyed. She let the worst of her take control way too often.
She walked into the garage and shut the light on, but Jacob wasn't there. In her criminal justice classes at college, she had learned about patterns in crime scenes, and while the garage wasn't currently a crime scene as of now, she could learn a few things about where he had gone and what his condition had been like at the time.
She did some snooping, and she hadn't found anything out of the ordinary.
Well, except for enough hard liquor in order to stay wasted for a week.
And a gun.
Renesmee sat in the corner of the garage weeping so hard that her stomach hurt. She kept wiping away her tears and snot so much that it was getting harder and harder to hold on to her phone by the second. She had called her mother in a fit of sobs, and Bella had calmly told her to stay put, stay on the phone with her, and that she would be there any minute with Edward. Within five minutes that had felt like five hours, she was there. Alone, Bella entered the garage, and when she saw Renesmee, looking like a mere ball of bronze hair, she sighed in relief. Thank God you're okay.
Bella squatted down and wrapped her arms around her daughter, who was holding the gun in her pale hands. Bella removed the gun and put it behind her so it was out of Renesmee's reach.
"What's going on, sweetie?" Bella asked.
Renesmee just continued to sob her Bambi eyes out. She heavily breathed in and out, swallowing her tears. "Jacob…" she managed to get out. "He's gone."
"He ran off again?" Bella asked.
Renesmee nodded and wiped at her eyes only for more tears to come pouring out. "He hasn't been going to therapy, either. He lied to me, for so long."
"I'm so sorry about that."
Renesmee continued to sob, but Bella had to remain focused. "Where'd you get the gun, Ness? You have to tell me where you got it." Bella sounded more like a police officer than a nurturing mother.
"Here!" Renesmee said. "I found the stupid gun here, in Jake's garage."
"Did you find anything else? What else did you find?"
"Alcohol. A shit ton of it. It's over there." Renesmee pointed to her right.
"I'll have Jasper check it out in a second," Bella said.
"Uncle Jasper?" Renesmee asked. "He's here?"
"Yeah."
"Where's Dad?"
Bella shrugged her shoulders. "He's not around."
"He's never around," Renesmee said, giving herself a whole new reason to cry.
Jasper entered the garage and quickly scoped it out. He didn't find anything that Renesmee hadn't found; just the booze and the weapon. However, two bottles were empty. "It's more likely than not that he downed a couple bottles before he went," Jasper said, "but it doesn't look like he took anything else with him. Also, neither his car nor his bike are gone. He's on foot."
"You see?" Bella asked, still holding on to Renesmee. "Jake didn't do anything permanent. He'll be back soon."
Renesmee continued to breathe hard. "I…I just." The tears were flowing. "I just don't know if I want him to come back. I feel like if he comes back, he'll… He'll kill himself."
Bella couldn't disagree or try to tell her daughter anything different.
Bella walked into the cottage living room two hours later, and Edward was at the dining room table, reading a book. Bella wanted to walk up to him and slap the book out of his hands. He hadn't wanted to go console Renesmee with Bella, so Jasper had taken his place. Edward felt plenty bad for his daughter, but he didn't want to help her due to the compelling, acceptable reason that he thought he would be useless. He didn't even try.
Bella wanted to do a million different things to him. She wanted to give him the tongue lashing of the century, and tell him that Renesmee was going to officially move out of their house and into the main one because she thought Edward hated her. (This wasn't entirely true; Renesmee just thought that Edward didn't care.)
Bella wanted to tell him that he was a fucking coward, and that she was really starting to dislike him. Based on today's daily bullshit alone, she was starting to edge into the hate side of her feelings for him. The amount of love she once had for him had been significantly cut when he had become human, and it was slowly but surely going down, down, down the drain.
Bella wanted to let him know of how dissatisfied she was with him as a person now, but she wasn't that evil. She also wasn't that strong; she could dish out all the criticism in the entire fucking world because she thought he could take it (and he could, about half the time), but the second he told her something honest, it was the end of the fucking world. They were too good, too weak, and too cowardly to play dirty. They were the king and queen of miscommunication, sitting on a throne of devoured feelings and false words.
So Bella just walked to the bookshelf, took out a book of her own to read, and retreated to the table. Sitting across from her, Edward asked, "So what's the rundown?"
She didn't look up from the book. "Jacob's gone again, but he had a gun and a crazy amount of booze in his garage. No one thinks he's running a bar from his garage, so it's assumed he has a drinking problem. Also, two bottles were empty, so he got drunk before he left today. Renesmee's staying in the main house for now."
"Why is she staying there instead of here?"
The passive-aggression was on the tip of her tongue. "Maybe because people will be more accountable and listen to her there."
"I think you're right," Edward said.
A/N: I'm back in it. Thank you so, so, SO much for the reviews, follows, and favorites! They are always appreciated, and they always make my day.
Until next chapter,
HS
