JACOB

I suppose I could call it the single most extraordinary night of my life, at least thus far. It felt like the two of us were expressing our love for each other in a way that went beyond words. Sure, there were some slightly awkward moments at first, as you would expect for a first time, but we'd laughed it off and somehow it just made the experience more real. I'd made her promise to tell me if she wanted to stop, if I was hurting her, but it never came to that. I'd tried to keep it slow at first, but I doubt either of us could've held back the unbridled passion. Tonight it's like we became a single unit, living on the same breath. We'd done more than have sex – we'd made love for the first time, and it couldn't have been more perfect.

We talked for a while afterwards, but eventually we both started drifting off to sleep, with her body pressed close to mine. Somewhere in my mind, I'm still not fully asleep, still aware of her cool skin against mine and how right it feels, when I hear my cell phone go off. It takes me a while to actually register the fact, and at first I really couldn't be bothered so I just let it keep ringing. And then I feel Nessie stir, her head moving slightly against my chest.

With a groan, I reach my arm out to grab the phone from the bedside table, fumbling with it for a while before actually answering the call. "Hello?" There's a silence on the other end, which makes me a little frustrated, thinking that it might be prank caller. Just as I'm about to say something again, I hear a familiar voice. "Jacob?"

I recognise the voice. "Charlie?" I ask, surprised. Charlie Swan? At this hour? You've got to be kidding me. I don't normally get calls from him – he usually goes straight to Dad, so this is definitely unexpected. For a second, I find the moment a little, well, odd. I mean, I did after all just make love to his granddaughter. But then I note the seriousness in his tone and my mind immediately wakes up. "What's up?"

"Jacob, I'm afraid I've… got some bad news," he says, sounding distraught and yet awkward at the same time. Bad news… My brow furrows as I remove my arm from around Nessie and sit bolt upright, turning the bedside lamp on. Before I can even ask him what is, he carries on, "It's Billy." Without realising it, my fist clenches slightly at my side. "Billy?" I ask slowly, dreading the answer. "What about Billy?"

Silence.

My heart constricts in my chest. "Charlie, are you there? What's going on?"

After that, my mind doesn't really register much of what he's saying except that my father's dead, and even then I don't believe him. It just feels as if the ground has been pulled out from beneath me – the ground, along with my entire world. This has to be some kind of sick, twisted joke. It has to be, what else could explain it? Certainly not the fact that my father is actually dead, and certainly not like this. Right now I'm struggling to even remember the last thing I said to him.

"I'll be… right over," I say blankly into the phone before setting it down in case I crush it in my hand.

Surely fate wouldn't deal you the same cards twice, right?

NESSIE

I heard the phone ringing and I wanted to ignore it. I wanted it to just stop ringing. I didn't want anything to burst into my gloriously happy bubble with Jake. Tonight we had made love for the first time. And I'll be the first to admit that it wasn't all romantic. We had awkward moments, and there was some pain, but not enough to make me want to stop. But in the end, it had been the most amazing thing I'd ever done. Making tonight the most perfect night of my life. And I didn't even want the morning to come and ruin that. I snuggled closer to him as it continued to ring, but now it was starting to make me stir, to wake me up. And that's when Jake finally answered. He didn't want for me to be disturbed. Which was very sweet of him.

But as I listened to his end of the call, as he bolted upright, the force with which he slammed the phone down, I knew that this wasn't good news. Billy was hurt. He was in the hospital. It had to be. We had to go. But as he seemed to sit still, I wondered if that was it. If Billy was in the hospital and I knew my Jake at all, which I thought I did, then he'd be a flurry of motion right now. I slowly sat up, trying to fully wake up, trying to focus. I placed my hand on his arm gently, trying to offer him comfort for whatever was going on. "Jake," I said to him quietly, unsure if I wanted to hear the answer. "What is it? What happened?"

I was nervous to know. I was worried about him. But I know no matter what happened, we can survive it, can face it together. And he knows that too. If he didn't then none of last night would have happened.

JACOB

For the first time ever, it's almost as if I can't even feel Nessie's touch. All I can feel is… numb, nothing. But I cringe when she worriedly asks me what happened, because it's then that it hits me like a wave, like the air has been sucked out of my lungs. If I answer her, it'll have to be true. My hand moves up unsteadily to touch hers, the one resting against my arm. I try to draw some comfort from it, but this feeling of emptiness is just too strong, too profound.

"My… dad…" I say slowly. I don't want to say it, I don't want to believe it. I swallow hard and stare ahead unblinkingly. "There was a… a car crash." A car crash. Just like Mom. I shake my head, to myself, to Nessie, to Charlie, to whoever or whatever it was that had let this happen. There must be some sort of mistake. "My dad… he's… dead."

I choke out the last word but even now, I still can't bring myself to move. I'm frozen in place, refusing to believe that the world as I know it has been ripped away, destroyed. Didn't I just see my father earlier in the day? And at some point, wasn't he patting me on the back, thrilled that I was going to propose to Nessie? Of course I knew he was aging, that he wasn't going to live forever, but he was strong and had a few years in him left. Never did I expect it to end like this. "No…" I whisper, more to myself than to her. "There must be some sort of… it can't… it just can't be true."

NESSIE

I watch Jacob worriedly. It's almost like he doesn't register my touch, my comfort. I'm worried about whatever great shock has just been dealt to him. I almost worry that he won't recover. That maybe he's gone catatonic on me. I'm about to question him again, to make sure he's still mentally with me, here. But then he starts to speak. He says that it's his dad. And even though I already knew that, I still feel the panic rising in my chest, as I give his arm a squeeze and nod, being both sympathetic and encouraging, Billy had in many ways been like a second father to me, especially over the past few years as Jake and I grew closer and I knew that I would spend forever with this man, that one day we would be married. And Billy would be family. But neither of us had seen a reason to wait to treat each other like father and daughter, like family. I wouldn't say that I loved him like Jake did, or the same as I loved my own dad, but it was close. And I didn't want to know what horrible thing had happened to Billy any more than it appeared that he wanted to tell me. But I waited patiently and listened.

When he said that Billy was dead. My breath caught in my throat. I felt tears come to my eyes. He was gone? Really gone? He wouldn't celebrate our union. He wouldn't be at the wedding. He would never know his grandkids, because I was sure that if Jake and I didn't give him any then Paul and Rachel would. I felt my earlier happiness leave me. And I felt some of my future happiness slip away too, at the thought that Billy wouldn't be able to be at those events and many others. That we had indeed lost him for good.

I wanted to break, to cry, to sob, to say that it wasn't fair, to curse whatever higher power existed. But one look at Jake's face and I knew I couldn't do any of that. I couldn't fall apart because Jake had already fallen apart. I needed to be strong for him, like he had been strong for me many times before. I needed to be his support, his rock. I couldn't cave under pressure, at the first sign of trouble, when I knew he needed me most. I took a deep breath and pushed my own desperate sadness to the back, for Jake. "I'm so sorry," I said to him, resting my head on his shoulder. I knew that those words were small. That they didn't mean much to him now probably, but they were true. I was sorry. And I would do anything to change what had happened. To make it different.

I kissed his shoulder lightly, feeling at a loss as to what to do. Everything that I had to offer seemed very insignificant at the moment. I wouldn't know what I would do if my dad died. I had no idea what I would want. I didn't know if anything other than time would comfort me. And I didn't know if that would be the case or not for Jake. But I knew that I'd want to know that people were there for me, and most importantly that Jake was. I'd want him with me. So I hoped that that might be the same for him. "I'm here for you," I said softly, my chin still resting on his shoulder. "Whatever you need." It always sounded trite in movies, but now I realized why people said it, it was the only thing to say. But it didn't sound any less trite now.

His hand almost lifelessly, as if he were in a fog, moved up to cover mine and I put my other hand over his, giving him a small squeeze, trying to offer as much comfort and support as I knew how. I was after all still a child. What did I really know about helping Jake through a loss this profound? He tried to deny it. And I silently hoped against hope also that Charlie had gotten it wrong. That he hadn't identified his own best friend correctly. That Jake's phone would ring any minute and it would be Billy laughing and explaining the horrible mix up. But I had the clarity enough to realize that that wasn't reality. It was simply a hope. One that wouldn't be realized. But I didn't know how to dash Jake's desperate hopes, how to say what I knew without sounding mean or callous. Billy was dead. And we couldn't change that.

The only thing that came to my mind to say next was the old stand by, another trite sentiment: Everything will be okay. But it seemed wildly inappropriate. Sure, over time, everything probably would be okay. But if I were in Jake's shoes, that would be the last thing I would want to hear, even if it came from him. Not yet anyway.

So instead of speaking right away, I squeezed his hand again. "Didn't you tell Charlie you'd meet him somewhere?" I say, breaking the heavy silence hanging between us and trying to bring Jake back to the here and now. I never referred to Charlie as grandpa, as everyone I had ever heard talk about him, referred to him as Charlie. I pause momentarily. "Maybe we should get ready." There was no way I was letting Jake do this alone. Together, we could weather anything.

JACOB

She says she's sorry. Like she believes it. But I know I can't. I won't believe it until I see him. With every passing moment, the reality of it all is threatening to sink deeper and deeper, but I refuse to go down. I need to cling to this last piece of hope that I have. "I'm here for you," she whispers to me, her head resting on my shoulder. At the back of my mind, I know she's trying to offer me comfort, but I can't seem to see it, can't seem to reach out and hold onto it now when I need it so desperately.

Instead all I can think about is my father and the fact that I'll never see him alive again, never hear his reminiscing his youth with my mom, never hear his roaring laughter or his rough voice telling me to quit fussing over his squeaky wheelchair. If I accept this, then I'll have to accept losing all that. And I don't know if I can. Not when I can't even remember what was the last thing I said to him, or the last thing he said to me.

"Didn't you tell Charlie you'd meet him somewhere?" she asks, squeezing my hand gently before suggesting we should get ready. I remain silent for a long while before I realise what she's saying. My mind snaps back to the present, but my heart is still elsewhere. I turn my face slightly, pressing my forehead to hers. For a moment, as I squeeze her hand back, I feel the emotions swell up in my chest, threatening to spill over.

But I can't. I don't have time to grieve. Not now. I have to pull myself together to go identify his… to go identify him. To make whatever arrangements and sort out whatever needs to be sorted out. And then I'll have to call my sisters. God, how am I going to tell them that our father is dead? They went through it once with Mom, and they were older than I was then. This second blow will shatter them for sure. I can't break down, not when I need to be strong for them.

With a nod, I pull myself away from Nessie, getting up and starting to get dressed. I don't want to go through this alone, I feel like I need her there with me or I will surely crumble, but I can see the look of sadness in her eyes as well. "Maybe I should... send you home first," I say quietly after pulling my shirt on, my voice sounding hoarse, like it's not quite my own. As much as I need her right now, she doesn't need to see this. She deserves to keep her last memories of Billy the way they are, with him alive.

NESSIE

He seems miles away as he stares at the wall across from his bed. I stay quiet, letting him have all the time he needs to react, to try and process, to try and deal. But he's still got me concerned, like he's not really here. It seems like he's half here and half somewhere else. And I'm not sure where that place is. Maybe the past. Maybe part of him is back somewhere in a good memory with his dad. And I would never steal that from him. I would never want to take that peace away from him.

He turns and rests his forehead against mine, and I look into his eyes for a moment before letting mine fall closed, gathering strength from him. Even now when he's probably afraid he has nothing to offer, I can find strength in him to be strong for him. When I open my eyes again to look into his, I see the pain and anguish, all the emotion playing across his face. And for a moment I think he might break down. I'm afraid about how I might break down too if he does. But my arms are ready and willing to hold him. Then he turns away from me. If I didn't know any better, I'd think he was embarrassed. Like he didn't want me to see him fall apart. I want to tell him that it's okay to be sad, it's okay to cry. But now he's off the bed and in motion and just to keep up I have to double time my way up and pull my clothes on.

I'm about to pull my shirt over my head when he suggests that he take me home. And I come to a stand still. Is he serious? I know he needs me, so why would he want to send me away. Maybe because he's thinking about me, maybe he's seen the pain on my face and doesn't want to put me through any more. But right now what I need doesn't matter. I can handle this. Because I know he can't do this alone. He can't really want me to go. Can he? "What?" I blurt out before I even have time to think. "No!" I shake my head fervently.

I pull my shirt roughly over my head as I look over to him. And one look at his face tells me what I have to do. I have to insist. I have to go with him. It's what he needs. I can see his desire for me to be there written all over his face, even if he feels like me going with him is too much to ask me for.

"Jake," I say softly as I cross the floor until I'm standing in front of him. I take one of his hands between both of mine, my palm pressed against his. My eyes lock on his and I shake my head again, just a little. "I'm not going to leave you now. When you need me most." I raised his hands to my lips and kissed his fingers lightly. I thought after last night he would know that for sure. That he would know that I wasn't running scared anymore. I wasn't avoiding the tough stuff. "I want to be there for you," I reiterate to him, because it just doesn't seem to be sinking in. "We're going to do this together."

JACOB

Every thought in my mind is tangled up with memories and images, images of the crash that I never saw. I don't even know any of the details. How it happened, or where it happened. Charlie might've mentioned it on the phone, but I probably just missed it. Because it doesn't matter, none of that matters. All I know is that my father's dead – the one person whom I've pretty much never been without all my life is dead and gone. The pain that comes with this realisation is profound, like a spear right through the chest. I don't want to see his body. I don't want to make it final. But I don't have a choice.

Nessie seems appalled by my suggestion to send her home. I look up at her to find not only the love and warmth and sympathy shining in her eyes, but also a strong, silent determination, one that I've never seen there before. At least, not quite like this. I watch her as she comes to stand before me, as she takes my hand in hers. The movement seems to happen so fast and at the same time so slow to me, as if my mind has forgotten how to process the world around it.

"I'm not going to leave you now. When you need me most," she says. I feel her lips graze gently across my hand and for just a moment, all of last night plays itself before my mind. But the happiness, the bliss, seems so far away now, as if it had all taken place in a separate lifetime. In a separate lifetime, in a perfect world, where my father was still alive… She insists on staying with me, on doing this together, and I know that she's right. I do need her, now more than ever.

I close my eyes, placing my other hand over both of hers and bringing them up to my lips the same way she just did moments ago. There's a long silence, because I don't trust myself to speak without shattering to pieces. Only when I'm sure I can hold myself together do I open my eyes again. "Thank you…" I whisper hoarsely. I swallow hard, wanting to say more, but it's really all I can say right now, all I can manage to tell her how truly grateful I am to have here with me now even though I'm in no frame of mind to give anything in return. With a sigh, I pat her hands lightly before releasing them both and reaching over to grab my wallet and keys from the desk.

But as soon as I've let go of her, the hollowness swoops back in to engulf me in its dark, merciless depths. "You ready? Let's go," I say quietly. "Charlie's waiting for us at the hospital." The hospital. Where I'm going to have to claim what's left of my dad. How much more twisted can all this get, when only just a few hours ago, I was the happiest man in the world?

NESSIE

I watch him as he seems to study me. Like he's trying to decide if I'm serious. Do I really mean the words, or am I just going through the motions? And then he comes to the undeniable conclusion that I am serious, I do mean it. I care about him, love him, more than anything. And I would endure any amount of hardships to be with him, to prove it to him, to give him what he needs. And though I have no idea what to do, or how to act in this situation, I know I have to go with him. I have to hold his hand. I have to be there. And maybe I'll be lucky and find the right words to say somehow, along the way. He raises my hands to his lips and for a moment it seems like he is truly in the here and now, standing before me, awake to the world around him.

His eyes slip closed and I see the indescribable pain pass over his features again, and it breaks my heart. I want to find a way to erase that pain. I wish I could feel it for him. That I could just take it away from him and impose it upon myself. I want so much to hear his laugh, to see his smile. It's barely been an hour since we received this news and already our last happy moment seems like ages ago. His smile seems like a distant memory, probably because I know that I won't see it for a while. "Thank you..." he says brokenly. "Anytime," I respond quietly, meaning the sentiment with everything I possess as I take a moment to lean into him and wrap my arms around him.

And then he unwraps my arms from him and pats my hands and lets them go. I hate feeling the distance between us. I hate how my pain seems stronger without his touch. And I know as I see the distant far away look on his face again that he is feeling his pain more profoundly now too. And again I pray for the ability to say and do the right thing for him. Again I wish I could do something to magically take it away.

I reach down and take his hand in mine as we walk out to his truck. "Do you want me to drive?" I ask him, gently, not knowing if he was in any state to do so. He nodded slowly, that blank look, that distant far away look, still on his face. I gently took the keys from him and guided him to the passenger side, making sure he was in before getting in on the driver's side and starting up the truck. The radio turned on automatically, seeming like a loud, oppressive force in the midst of all of our emotion. I reached out and turned it off almost instantly. I didn't think that the radio held anything that would secretly make either of us feel any better about what had happened or what was coming.

The ride to the hospital was done in silence, me casting sideways looks at Jake to make sure he was still alive, still breathing, still as okay as he could be, as I struggled to maneuver the gigantic car. And I hoped every second that it wasn't true. That there was some kind of mistake. That it wasn't Billy. I tried to imagine that being the case. Tried to imagine hearing those words and seeing the joy and relief rush over both of us. I tried so hard to see it. But I knew deep down that it wasn't true, so it was making it hard to imagine.

When we arrived at the hospital, I parked the truck out of the way, where I didn't run the risk of hitting any other cars. And if Jake were himself. I knew he would have laughed and scoffed at me before kissing me on the forehead, getting out, pushing me to the passenger side as he took over the driver side and parked us closer. But I knew I would get no such reaction out of him now. He barely blinked as he seemed to realize we were somewhere else when the car came to a halt.

I got out of the truck and waited for him. The mantra Please let it be a mistake repeating over and over in my head. Over and over. Over and over. I put my hand in his before abandoning that route for wrapping my arm around his waist. The mantra repeating over and over until I saw an all too familiar car in the parking lot. A silver Volvo. Mom and Dad. They were here. My heart sank and a new mantra took over. Please let me do what's right for Jake. And then I saw them coming out to meet us, dad must have heard at the very least my thoughts.

I stepped out of the way as mom flung her arms around Jacob. "I'm so sorry. Charlie called and told me. I didn't want you to be alone." That rubbed me the wrong way, the implication that I would leave Jacob alone. But then again Mom didn't know if I was with him, if he'd insist on leaving me behind like he had tried. And she was Jake's best friend. If I couldn't hold his hand through this I would want it to be her.

At the finality of it all, their presence, my shattered hope, I felt the first tears and dad pulled me into his arms, holding me so tight that for a moment I thought he might break my half human bones. But as soon as he heard that, he relinquished his hold on me and wiped the few tears that had gotten away from my face. "Thank you," I whispered to him, with a nod towards mom to show that I meant it for her too. She smiled and hugged me. "Renesmee?" she questioned, looking at the ring, but now didn't seem like the time. "Later," I said to her quietly. Later I could share the short lived happiest moment of my life with her. That is if it wasn't forever entwined with the worst moment of my life, in my head.

I quickly wiped away all stray tears, for the first time wishing that that was a vampiric trait that I had, the inability to create tears. I needed to keep it together for Jake. And I didn't need him to push me away because he thought that it was too painful. I reached out and took his hand in mine again, giving it a small squeeze to get his attention. "Ready?" I asked him, nodding towards the hospital doors, hoping that I was ready for this too.

JACOB

As we approach the truck, Nessie volunteers to drive. It isn't often that I let her take over, simply because it just isn't the norm for us, but right now I just hand her the keys. I don't know if I can hold myself steady enough to drive anyway. And wouldn't that be a cruel twist, if I were to get us into a car accident on our way there? I hardly even notice when she turns off the radio and begins to drive. But as we move out of the reservation, I begin to regret the choice. I'm not used to being in the passenger seat. It's given my hands nothing to do, my mind nothing to occupy itself with. All I can see is Dad. It turns out to be one of the longest drives I've ever had to sit through in my life.

I don't know how long it took for us to get there exactly, or even what time of night or morning it is now when it's still so dark, but eventually we do. At first I just don't want to get out, don't want to have to go in. Why can't I? Why can't I just hide from all of this, pretend it's not happening so that I'll never have to face it? But when I hear Nessie close the door on the driver's side, reality takes over and there's simply no running away from anything. Almost as soon as I get out on my side, she comes close and slips an arm around my waist. The feeling, though familiar and still somewhat comforting, has lost all its pleasantness.

My eyes are focused on the entrance doors as we walks across the parking lot when two figures emerge from behind them. I know their gaits well, know exactly who they are even from a distance, and just by being here, they've stolen from under me just a little more of my hope. Hope that this could still be a mistake. Hope that even Charlie could get it wrong. Even hope that maybe Dad could be playing on me the stupidest prank of his life. And I would forgive him for it too, a thousand times over if it meant he was alive. But Bella and Edward are here, and that makes this all the more real.

I barely move when Bella hurries over and throws her arms around me. Her presence should be reassuring – I've always loved being around her, even after getting over the initial shock of her turning into a vampire. She's always been a close friend, my best friend even, but now even knowing that my best friend is here gives me little comfort. Yeah, it's great, she's here, they're all here. But there's one person who's not. "Thanks" is all I manage to mumble as she pulls away again, her eyes lingering on me worriedly.

I stand aside as Bella moves over to Nessie, and for a moment, I even see the look of sympathy in Cullen's eyes. I don't know if that makes it worse or not, to be getting sympathy from him of all people, but all the same I nod in acknowledgement. When I feel a light pressure on my hand, I realise that I had zoned out for a moment and that Nessie's back beside me. I look down at her and note the redness of her eyes, that she's been crying. I almost tell her to stay outside with her parents, to spare her the pain of having to see what we're about to see, but I know I can't fight that determined look. Especially when I don't even have the strength to try. She asks if I'm ready and I nod silently before starting to walk.

Every step from then onwards feels heavy, like my feet have somehow turned to lead. We meet Charlie at the reception, and the whole time I'm just shaking my head at him. "This is a mistake, right?" I ask him, still clinging to this last bit of disbelief. My heart sinks when he bows his head and reaches out to pat my back, saying that he's sorry. Everyone's saying that they're sorry. I want to scream, what's the point in sorry if he's dead? But I can hardly find my voice.

"You don't have to… go see, Jacob," Charlie tells me, and I realise that as the sheriff and a close family friend, his identification of the body would have sufficed. But there's something else about his words that causes my throat to tighten, my airways to constrict. If he's telling me not to have a look, it must mean it's bad. Just how bad, I can't quite tell from the look in his eyes. But that's all the more reason for me to go ahead with it. How can I abandon my father, even in death, just because it won't be a pretty sight? "No," I say firmly. "I have to."

The horrible stench of chemicals and death is permeating the air, choking my lungs as he leads us down the corridors to a room before standing aside by the door. My grip tightens around Nessie's hand right then. I need her, I need to know that she's still here even though the rest of the world is about to disappear. Then, taking a deep breath, I take the first step inside. He's covered in a plain white sheet, and even now, there could still be just the slightest, the very slightest possibility that it's not really him. And if it's not, then I have to know.

When I'm finally standing beside him, I turn back to Nessie and look into her eyes, giving her one last chance to back out of this, trying to let her know that I would understand. But she's still adamant, so I nod quietly and try to draw some strength from her, strength that I know I'm losing with each passing moment, until I know that I can delay no longer. Finally, with a trembling hand, I slowly lift the sheet off his face.

And the sight of it brings me to my knees.

I blink once. And then again. Any and all hope that I may still have been harbouring up till this point flies straight out the window. It's him. It's him, and yet it's not. I was prepared to see a dead person, and at the very far corners of my mind I may even have been prepared to see my dead father… but nothing, absolutely nothing could've prepared me for this. Even though some effort was clearly taken to clean him up, the extent of the damage is obvious just by the look of his jaw, so badly dislocated from the impact of the crash. This is not the face of a peaceful death. This is cruel and ugly and gruesome, and not the way anyone would ever want to remember their father. But it is this face that will never leave my mind – it will always be there to haunt me, to mar forever all the good memories I've ever had of him.

NESSIE

Charlie says that Jake doesn't need to see the body. And it's then that I know that the body will be a gruesome sight and I try to prepare myself for that. But I've never seen a dead body before. Never once killed a human and mangled their body, never once seen a vampire who had, never once seen a vampire all torn up and dismembered by the wolves. Every gruesome looking body I had seen, I had seen because of Hollywood magic. I had a feeling that the real thing would be nothing like that. For a moment I wonder if Jake should see this. Should he see his dad so disfigured? Would it steal all good memories of his dad? Would that forever be how he remembers his dad looking? I don't want that for him. I'm about to tell him how I feel, ask him to reconsider, but he tells Charlie that he has to. And he says it with more conviction than I've heard him say anything since he got the news. It's then that I realize that he needs this. He needs to see with his own two eyes. If he doesn't then he'll never believe. He'll always doubt. And no one could call him crazy for it, given the supernatural world that we live in. Charlie gives me a questioning look and I simply nod to him, determined to do everything I can for Jacob.

Charlie gives an understanding nod, attributing this to one of the many unexplainable things that he insists he doesn't want an explanation to, ever since Jake wolfed out in front of him, and he realized our world was different. Then he walked down the hallway, leading us to where Billy's body was. I give Jake's hand a squeeze and rub my other hand up and down his arm, hoping some of this is getting through to him, hoping in this horrible awful moment that he doesn't feel alone. We stop in front of the door and Jake turns to me and squeezes my hand. I squeeze his hand back and look into his eyes, a look that says I'm here for him, a look that tells him that he can do this, he is strong enough. And then we move into the room to see a white sheet covering the body.

He disentangles his arm from me before giving me one last look, one more time to back out. But I won't falter. Not now. I give him my most determined look and he simply nods before reaching up and removing the sheet from Billy. From what used to be Billy. This man though, is broken, almost beyond repair. His jaw is dislocated, it makes his face no longer look the same. And for a moment the horrible sight of the face that used to be Billy's is all I can see. I take in a sharp breath, trying to keep my emotions at bay, as I convince myself that Billy is no longer there. In that body. I refuse to remember him like this, not when I have so many memories of a perfect smile on his beautiful face. Not when I remember so many jokes that he told, so many times we shared. A face that was so expressive, that fit together like a face was supposed to.

I remembered one of the last conversations that we had had. Jake had been out patrolling it had just been the two of us. I don't remember what started the conversation, but this is where it ended up.

"Don't forget to take care of Jake," he said, winking at me. I had noticed lately that Jake did an awful lot for me and never let me return the favor. When I was younger I hadn't minded, I had almost wanted it to be all about me, but now I wanted a more equal relationship. I wanted to do more for him. I went to say something and Billy shook his head. "He likes being in charge. And he doesn't like looking like he can't handle it. And he likes moving the sun and the moon for you. It's the way he's built. But don't forget that there may be times when he needs you."

The conversation at the time had taken me by surprise, as if to explain Billy said. "We never stop looking out for our children. You'll probably be four hundred and your mom and dad will be trying to look out for you too."

I laughed softly at the image of my over protective dad still growling at Jacob years from now for having impure thoughts. My dad pretending that all the children I had were brought about by immaculate conceptions. To him, Mary wouldn't be the only one allowed to use the excuse. I nodded to him and looked him dead in the eyes and said with as much feeling as I could muster. "I promise. I never take Jake for granted. And I would love to be there for him. I would love just about any future that puts us together."

He smiled at me. "You'll have that," he seemed so sure. He seemed more sure than I felt. "One day he'll ask you to marry him and we'll all have a big party."

"The pack and the vampires...and some humans too," I winked at him. There was not a single person among those groups that I could imagine not having there.

"What about our dance," he teased me, but I could tell by the look in his eyes that he missed dancing. And that he regretted not being able to share that with me.

I reached out and placed my hand over his. "Oh, we will dance, Billy." He gave me a skeptical look, gesturing to his wheelchair. I shrugged, maybe we wouldn't dance conventionally, but we would dance. "We'll work it out." I smiled at him as he laughed out loud as I got up, turned the stereo on and proceeded to dance with him, as he twirled his chair under my arm. And he seemed very pleased.

"I guess we'll dance," he said with a smile, his eyes twinkling.

That was how I would remember Billy. Dancing with me, smiling. I thought about the fact that we wouldn't dance at our wedding and I felt the tears well again. I felt a hand on my back, but knew from its lack of heat that it was not Jake's. I finally tore my eyes away from Billy to find Jake on the ground. I would keep that promise, not because it's one of the last ones that I made to Billy, but because I always want to be with Jake, and there for Jake, good or bad.

I immediately join him on the floor, sitting next to him as I wrap my small arms around his huge frame. I pull his body close to mine, against mine, resting his head on my chest. I stroke his hair and kiss his forehead as I rock him in what I hope is a soothing motion. And it's then that his tears finally come, hard and fast, and it breaks my heart watching him be so broken. It leaves me gasping for breath like someone had just ripped my lungs from my body, it hurts so badly. "Shh," I whisper, with other platitudes made to comfort as I hold onto him as tightly as I can.

JACOB

Never. I've never broken down in front of Nessie before. I've always tried to carry my burdens alone, to shield her from them as best I could. But this time… this time I can't. It's beyond my control and beyond my capacity to protect her from this, or anything for that matter, when right now I can't even find the strength to hold myself in one piece. I feel as if someone has just shattered my heart into a million pieces. For a while, for just a while longer, as the shock spreads throughout my system, I do manage to keep myself together, simply because it's all just trying to sink in.

But as soon as she puts her arms around me and draws me close, I can't hold it back anymore. All the tension built up over the last hour, all the anguish I'm feeling right now erupts as my resolve to stay strong crumbles completely. I feel my shoulders racking with sobs, my tears coming down like they haven't done in years, spilling over and soaking her shirt. I want to ask her to tell me that she didn't see what I just saw, but there's no running away this time. Reality's right there, in the form of my father's broken body. There's no more room for denial. Only acceptance.

But how? How can I accept this?

The whole time, Nessie's presence is a constant comfort, and even though I don't like having to lean on her, this once, just this once, I can't not do that. I've never had to draw strength from her as much as I do now. Everything I've ever known feels like it could be a lie – if there's one thing solid in my life that I know I can rely on right now, it's Nessie. Yet even as I weep, there's a nagging voice in my head reminding me that I can't weep for long. That I'm going to have to push all this grief aside and step up. I still have to tell the family. I still have to send my father off. This momentary release will have to last me a while.

At long last, I manage to find it in me to pull myself up and away from her. My head still feels like it's burning, my chest like it's being compressed, but I sit up anyway and cover my eyes with one hand, forcing myself to put a plug on the emotions for now. Finally I draw a deep, staggering breath as I wipe the tear stains off my face. "Thanks. For being here," I say quietly to Nessie, my throat hurting as I do so. We sit in silence for a while longer as I try to gather myself together again.

When I know I can stand up without falling apart again, I do just that. For a moment, the sight of my dad's disfigured face threatens to rip the ground right out from beneath my feet all over again, but by some miracle I manage. It may have something to do with Nessie's hand still holding mine, still lending me her support. Support that I've never had to ask of her before. Ever. At this point, whether by its own will or mine, my hand slips away from hers. With a deep sigh, I take one last look at my father before replacing the sheet over his head. Before leaving the room, I bring the same hand that had been in Nessie's down to grip his limp one that lay beneath the bleached-white fabric. "Love you Dad," I whisper. And then I let him go.

The feeling that I get right then washes over me like a tidal wave. It's this incredibly real, incredibly profound feeling of emptiness. Like there's a whole chunk of me that's missing. Like there's a hole, an actual physical hole in my heart. And in that moment, it's as if even Nessie might not be able to fill that hollow.

"How do we–" My voice cracks and I clear my throat and start over properly. "How do we go about doing the… arrangements?" I ask Charlie as I step outside again. He looks a little taken aback, as if he'd been expecting to be the one to bring that up at this stage, not the other way around. He begins to say something about helping to sort it out for me, but I hardly hear what he's saying anymore. I'm looking up at the wall, at the clock that's caught my eye. It's close to five in the morning. Even allowing for the time they would've taken to get him here from the scene of the accident and to clean up his body and to finally contact me and for me to get here, this would mean that the crash would've taken place at around the same time Nessie and I got home last night. But Dad hardly ever leaves the house after dark, at least not that I've known of in recent years. This realisation hits me over the head. Hard.

What was he doing?

"Charlie, where did it happen?" I ask, cutting him off in mid-sentence. It's the first time I'm actually asking about the accident, acknowledging it. It's the first time I'm even wanting to know. But for what reason I'm not entirely sure. It's not like it would make any difference. "What time?"

NESSIE

Jake slowly pulled away from me and composed himself. I was going to tell him that he didn't need to be tough for me. I didn't care if he cried for days. If it was my dad, I probably would cry for days. Without stopping. He was allowed to be sad, broken, desperate. And he was allowed to express that. But before I knew what was happening, he was helping me to my feet and he had everything bottled up. I would almost feel guilty for starting the tears again, for being the reason that he broke all over again. I reached up and wiped away the few tears that he had missed. He thanks me for being there, and I reassure him with a quietly spoken, "Always."

Then he pulls completely away from me. And my fingers ache for him. For his touch. But he needs this. He needs to say goodbye to his dad, so I let him. I'm ready to receive him after he says goodbye and covers Billy again. But he walks right past me, almost as if I'm not even there. And I try not to feel the stab of pain that that causes. I know he's upset. I know he's reeling. I can't blame him for being unfocused. He slips out of the door and I take a moment to spend with Billy myself. I reach down and take his hand into mine, just as Jake did, holding it tightly. "I'll miss you," I say to him, my voice shaking slightly. "I love you, but you know that." Then I say something that maybe would sound silly to anyone else, but I want to say it to him. I can't stop the smile that spreads across my face as I remember the conversation again. "I'm glad we got to dance." And then something even dumber. I give his hand one more squeeze before saying. "Rest well."

And then I walk out to join Jake and Charlie in the hallway, barely hearing the end of Jake's question. I move over next to him, again taking his hand into mine. Charlie looks uncomfortable. And then he says. "I'm not sure what your dad was up to tonight," he answers honestly. "He called to tell me he couldn't watch the game tonight. Something about going to Seattle." But it was obvious Charlie had no idea why he had gone to Seattle, he seemed to be looking at Jake, like Jake could fill in the blanks for him. "It must have happened on his way home. Just outside of Forks."

Charlie continues to speak, answering the other question. "We arrived on the scene about two hours ago. He was already gone. Probably died instantly, felt no pain."

Charlie had never been good with words and I could tell that his last words were meant to comfort, but I didn't know if they would.

Then Charlie made an offer that seemed to make him uncomfortable. Like I said, he'd never been big with words. And the showing of emotions had always been difficult too. But Jake was like a son to him, since he had grown up in Bella's generation. "Do you need anything? Anyone you want me to call?" Though he didn't seemed thrilled at the idea of breaking this news to anyone else, especially not another one of Billy's children.

JACOB

Even as Nessie takes my hand again, I feel my thoughts getting jumbled up inside my head. None of this makes sense. What would my dad have been doing in Seattle? The question is on Charlie's face and I know it's on mine too. From his words, it sounds like the accident hadn't involved anyone else. With the weather we had last night, the roads must have been slick. In the dark, that couldn't have helped. Dad could easily have veered off somehow. But the impact was so severe… The possibilities start to swim in my mind – if it was another car, a duck, or a drunken teenager... But if Charlie had any more information, I know he would've told me by now anyway.

He goes on to, in his own awkward way, try to console me somehow. As if it helped. Probably died instantly, felt no pain… his words echo in my head. I wish I could believe that. But the way my father's face had looked when I lifted the sheet… It didn't look like one that hadn't suffered, even though he really might not have. And to think that it had probably hit him without him even realising it, that was cruel in its own right. I know my dad loved life. He wouldn't have been prepared to go – he would've at least wanted the chance to say goodbye, to set our minds here at ease. But it seemed that even that little was too much to ask for. It was taken from him, and it was taken from us. He was taken from us.

I look up when Charlie asks if I need anything, if I need him to call anyone. I stare at him blankly for a moment, still stuck somewhere in the middle of a wet, slippery road just outside Forks, looking at my father through the broken window of his crumpled vehicle. "Uhm…" Help. He was offering help. "Well, I could use some of your help with sorting out this end of things. Whatever procedures there are." I pause briefly, thinking about what he'd said next. "But I'll inform the rest myself." I don't know if I can really handle taking on that task. There'll be screaming and more breaking down involved. But Charlie's already done enough as it is, and I should really be there for my family when they find out. Like it or not, I'm just going to have to toughen up for it.

"Thanks Charlie." My dad was his best friend, I know he's hurting too. And so is Nessie, and Bella out there, and soon it'll include Rachel and Rebecca and the pack. I need to keep this going. For their sake, I can't afford to fall apart right now. "And… one more thing, Charlie," I add. I manage to keep my voice firm but I have to tighten my hold on Nessie's hand slightly to keep my own from shaking. "Under no circumstances is anyone else to see the body. Especially not my sisters. Could you see to that please?" It feels horrible, so detached, to be referring to my dad in there as 'the body'. But it's true, all that's left is a corpse. And it's a badly broken one. I know my sisters would want to see him like I did, and they would probably fight me for it, but I just can't let it haunt them too. They need to remember him the way he was when he was alive. Not like this. Certainly not like this.

NESSIE

Jake holds my hand tightly while he talks to Charlie. And I wish there was a more solid, substantial way for me to let him know that I'm here. I'm really here for him. I feel his pain, literally because seeing him this broken causes me physical pain. And I feel the loss too. We are going through this together. But standing uselessly next to him, holding his hand, it didn't feel like enough. It felt like I could never do enough in this situation to make anything better for him. I squeezed his hand back, hoping that it helped him at least a little.

Charlie nodded. "I'll take care of most everything on my end, unless I need you. If I do, I'll call." Charlie still seemed awkward as he tried to control his own emotions and it appeared be strong for Jake. It looked like maybe he wanted to hug the younger man, but didn't know if that would be appropriate. When Jake asked about keeping others from seeing Billy's body, he nodded. "I'll tell them that the body's been identified and not to allow any viewing." He rubbed his forehead awkwardly. "No one will argue..." he said, implying that the state of Billy's body would inspire others' compliance. He shifted from foot to foot before looking at us and saying. "I should go handle the paperwork." He gave Jake an awkward pat on the shoulder and gave me a squeeze around the shoulders before walking off.

I turned to Jake, wondering what he was up to doing tonight. I took his other hand in mine, turning him to face me, resting my forehead against his. I closed my eyes for a moment, preparing myself for the heartache I would see in his when I opened them. I looked up into his eyes and what I found there shattered my heart into a million pieces. He looked so hurt and so vacant all at once. My breath caught in my throat as I wondered if I could ever help put him back together again. "What do you want to do tonight?" I asked him gently. "Go back home? Or should we go talk to Rachel?" I was going to let him decide, I would follow and support him, no matter the decision. "Or if you want I can talk to your sisters..." I knew he felt he had to, but I could bare that burden, I could handle it for him if he was too upset. "No one would blame you for being upset..."

JACOB

As Charlie walks away, I think about how in barely the blink of an eye, my dad has been reduced to this. A body. Paperwork. News to be conveyed. I keep feeling as if something's missing, like someone just stuffed a heap of blank pages in-between before slapping in the tragic ending. For a moment, as Nessie puts her forehead to mine, the pain seems to dull, just a little. I need her so badly right now, but at the same time I can't put that need into words, can't even begin to express it in any way. And then I think about how, when we're together, it always seems like we're the only two people in the world. I've always loved that. Yet after tonight, that thought, instead of being comforting, feels strangely cold. Because death won't end with my father's.

She asks about what I want to do next, if we should go talk to Rachel. I consider going home first, waiting until at least dawn before informing my sisters. What's the point in waking them up now only to give them a rude shock? But I don't want to go home now, I don't want to sit idle and give my mind a chance to roam. When Nessie suggests being the one to talk to my sisters, I realise that she's trying to make this easier for me. But I could never put this on her shoulders. Not when I know how difficult it would be for her too. "No one would blame you for being upset..."

My eyes soften as I untwine one hand from hers and pat her cheek lightly. "It's okay, I have to do this," I insist. I'm not thrilled about having to, and neither is she by the looks of it, but this is my burden to carry, not hers. "Don't worry, I'll be fine." I throw a glance at the wall clock again and give a small sigh. It's still too early. "But I think we should wait till morning before telling the others. This'll be the last good sleep they'll have for a while, so let's just let them have that."

I assume that she wants to come with me either way. But as I look at her, I see the deep concern in her eyes, mingling with her own desperate pain over my father's death. I know how much he meant to her too. She doesn't need my pain to wear her down as well. "You could follow your parents home, you know," I tell her quietly, trying again to give her a way out, to spare her the stress of having to deal with distraught relatives on top of everything else. Right now, it's all I can give her. "You've already done a lot for me just by being here tonight. I couldn't ask for more than that."

NESSIE

He insists that he has to do this. I knew that he would. I knew he'd never let me shoulder this alone. But I would. I would shoulder this a thousand times over if it brought him even an ounce of peace. I nod slowly. "If you change your mind. that would be okay too. It wouldn't be a burden." I'm trying to reassure him. I want him to know that he doesn't have to shoulder this alone. In fact if he wants to give as much of it to me as he can, that would be okay. I would be more than willing to accept it, to take it on.

He continues to say that he wants them to get one final night's worth of good sleep. I nod silently, untwining my other hand from his and moving closer to him, wrapping my arms around his waist and pulling him close, resting my head on his chest. I listen to his breathing, feel his chest moving up and down. Listen to the thump thump thump of his heart. I let out a slow sigh. "Jake..." I want to say something, something that will make a difference. But I can't think of any words that will carry any weight, so I say again the old stand by. "I'm so sorry." And I mean it more than I've possibly meant anything in my entire life. I breathe in his scent as I hold him close. I glance at the clock while I hold him and wonder what we should do for the next few hours before the rest of the world wakes up.

It's then that he offers me an out again. Like he's afraid of what this will do to me. Like he's afraid I'm not strong enough, that I can't really do all of this. But I can. I could do anything for him. He gives me the strength to survive anything and everything. And I know he needs me. I shake my head lightly against his chest when he says I could follow my parents home. "Not unless you're coming too," I say to him. And to be honest, I don't think that's the best idea right now. He might kill Rosalie, or Blondie as he calls her, right now. She's not cruel, but I don't know if she'd have the kind of compassion and sympathy that my Jake deserves right now.

I don't want to argue with him, to point out that I'm with him for better or worse. I'm with him always. I don't want him to insist that I go. I just want him to accept that I'm gonna stay. "You wanna get out of here?" I ask him quietly, knowing that he probably doesn't want to stand in this hallway, so close to the reality of what's happened, Billy's dead body, anymore than I do.

JACOB

She refuses to leave me and I have to say that a part of me is glad. Having her with me, it doesn't make things better, nothing could, but it makes it that much more bearable. And maybe I need that, maybe I need her to stay beside me so that I'll have a reason not to break. I rest my chin on her head, absentmindedly letting my fingers twirl around her hair. I try to get myself to focus on her, her touch, her scent. But the nauseating stench of death lingering in the air is overwhelming. As if reading my mind, she asks, "You wanna get out of here?"

I slowly unwrap my arms from around her and nod. "Yeah. Yeah, let's go." I take her hand and together we walk back down the corridor and back out through the main doors. Every step takes me farther from my dad, but then I picture his face as I'd just seen it and remember that that's not true. Dad's already as far away from me as he can possibly get. "We can just… take a drive or something. Anywhere. I just want to get away from here."

Back outside, Bella and Edward are still hanging around, waiting for us to come out again. I know Edward must've seen into our heads by now and I wish again that he couldn't. No one else needs to see. I let go of Nessie's hand to let go check in with her parents. I just don't feel like talking to them right now. I wouldn't know what to say, and neither would they. "Go on," I tell her, nodding in their direction. "I'll wait by the truck."

NESSIE

He tells me to go and talk to my parents, but I don't want to. It's not that I don't want to check in with them, or talk to them even. I love them. And to have a moment to maybe break, even if for a second. To just pretend like I didn't have to be strong and let the pain and grief seize me and take me over. Just for a second. Not for long, just for a second. But the truth is, I don't want to leave Jake. Not even for a second. I don't want him to even think that I might change my mind about standing by him. I don't want him to feel abandoned. But maybe he needs a moment alone or something. I look at him unsure, but he nods again and I nod back, taking his hand into mine again. "I'll only be a minute," I promise before letting him go and watching him walk away. I watch his stature and his gait. What had once been my amazingly strong, rock, now looked so defeated. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from crying at just how small he seemed right now.

Then I turned to my parents, and I let it all show through, come spilling out. Everything I was feeling. Though I didn't make a noise as they comforted me. I let the tears come silently as they took turns holding me and stroking my hair, like we had an unspoken agreement for no one to make a sound about how upset I was. I didn't want Jake to know. Then he would send me away for sure. After a few minutes in each of their arms I pulled away their eyes asked if I would be okay and I gave them a shaky smile and nodded. "Jake and I are going to waste some time, until it's a decent hour to go tell Rachel." They nod, but my dad's eyes, they are unmistakably asking if I'm sure. I nod again. "He needs me. I want to be there for him." This is an answer he can accept. Then I wave and I move off quickly towards the truck.

I get in the driver's side again, Jake already in the passenger side. I turn the key in the ignition and sit for a moment in silence. What am I supposed to do? Why didn't I ask mom and dad? Why didn't I ask them what to do? What to say? How to try and fix him? How to try and put him back together? How to make this right somehow? Why didn't I ask?

I put the truck into reverse and begin to drive. I'm not sure where to go. He doesn't want to go home. I can't take him to my house. We can't go to Billy's. It's too early to go to Rachel's. And I don't know how he'd feel about going to the beach right now. The beach is usually his place. It makes him feel calm. But it's usually a happy place. Or a place to talk. This might be a problem even too big for the beach. So instead I find myself parking at the bottom of the slope that leads to the cliffs. The one the boys like to dive off of. The ones that I've even dove off of a few times. It seems right somehow. Jake comes here to work off steam usually. And to me it's always seemed so close to the sky. Close to God, if there is one as Carlisle believes, and therefore close to heaven. Close to Billy.

Again silence pervades the car. "Shall we go up?" I hate feeling this unsure of what to say around him.

JACOB

I have no idea where we're going, and I don't even bother to ask. I don't really care if we were to just drive around in circles until morning comes. I don't even care if morning never comes; I'd rather it not come. I'd rather not have to tell Rachel that our father's dead, to see her tears and hold back my own. I sit in silence, my eyes fixed on a point ahead though I don't feel like I'm seeing anything. I try not to think, to zone out. I try not to think about Dad, and yet at the same time I'm afraid that if I don't think about him, the memories will start to fade and I'll never be able to retrieve them.

"Shall we go up?"

At the sound of Nessie's voice, I blink and realise that we've stopped. Go up? I look around to see where we are and despite the familiarity of the place, it takes a moment for me to recognise it. "Oh…" I say aloud to myself when it finally clicks before answering her question. "Yeah, sure." I get out of the truck as she does the same. When she comes over to me, my arm moves out to wrap around her waist, drawing her close. I may be distracted, but her presence feels strong, solid. More solid than anything else in my world right now.

It's not often that I come here after dark. I'm not even sure if I ever have. As we head up together, I guide her over the rough spots, more by default instinct than anything. "Careful," I tell her quietly as I hold onto her tighter. I don't know what I'd do if she were to get hurt, especially now. I can't lose her too. Sure, nothing's going to happen and yes, it's an irrational thought, but nothing seems rational now. What happened last night is anything but rational.

NESSIE

He seems lost for a moment. And that worries me. Not that I blame him at all for being distracted, for being lost in thoughts or memories, for being distant. I would probably do the same thing if I were in his shoes. But I'm still worried about him, and his absence. I want so badly to do something that matters. But I know rationally that I can't fix this single handedly, and that it can't be fixed at all this soon. I guess it worries me most because we always talk about things. And in the past few months, that bond has grown even deeper, though I never imagined that it could. We hardly hold anything back. We don't even worry about sounding silly or stupid for the most part anymore. We just talk, we keep everything open between us. And right now, he's so far away and he's not talking about any of it with me.

As I reach his side, he wraps his arm around me and pulls me close and I breathe in his calming scent and revel in his warm touch. It feels comforting to be close to him. It feels right, it feels almost natural, though the silence is still between us. And it soothes my pain, it calms the irrational fears that are running through my head about losing one of my parents, about losing Jake. When he pulls me closer and tells me to be careful, things feel right again, even if for the moment and I pull him closer to me.

We make it to the top of the cliffs and I pull away, looking up at the sky and closing my eyes saying a silent prayer. And then I move towards the edge of the cliff and sit down, my feet dangling over the water. The freezing water that rests so far down. I stare at it for a long moment. "Come sit with me," I say to Jake, patting the ground next to me. I wait until I feel his warm arm brush against mine, and his feet enter my line of vision as he sits. I take his hand into mine again, resting it in my lap. "Do you want to talk?" I ask him quietly. More because I want to know what's going on in his head than anything. And I know he probably wants to stay in silence. If he wanted to talk, he would. Right?

I look up at him and again the air is sucked from my lungs at the pain evident in his eyes. "You don't have to," I assure him. More than anything I want him to be comfortable. "We can just sit here like this, until we go." I nod, and give him the slightest of smiles, so he doesn't feel pressured to talk. What if he wants to talk, but doesn't know how to start? I could start us off if he gave me some sign that talking to me is what he wanted.

JACOB

When Nessie gestures for me to join her on the edge of the cliff, I do just that, slowly lowering myself to the ground and taking a seat beside her. She asks if I want to talk, and then assures me that I don't have to. And I'm torn between both. I don't want to talk about how my dad's gone for good, how I will never ever see him again, how he's gone from being my father to becoming a memory. But I'm afraid that if I don't then I'll start to forget… forget what he looked like alive, what his voice sounded like, what he smelled like, how he laughed when he was happy or shouted at me when he was mad… I want to tell her how I feel and yet I don't want to burden her with my pain. It makes me want to tear my heart out. It makes me want to weep till I have no more tears left and scream at the top of my lungs.

But I can't. I can't do that. I need to stay in one piece for her and for the rest of the family. If I fall apart, I might not be able to pick myself back up again.

I draw a deep, uneven breath as I silently use my arm to draw her to me. Her closeness keeps me going, keeps me breathing. It gives me something to live for. I could lose everything else but I could not lose her. But as my hand squeezes hers, I feel the ring on her finger, the ring that I had slipped on for her just hours ago. It feels like it's been years, and it feels like all the happiness we were meant to have has vanished. I look deep into her eyes for a long moment, seeing everything there, everything we've just been through, from the joy on the beach to the loss that came with that dreaded phone call. My eyebrows furrow as I squeeze my eyes shut and press my face into the curls falling over the side of her neck. "I love you, Nessie," I whisper brokenly. If I can hold onto nothing else, I need to hold onto this. "I love you so much."

NESSIE

He seems so torn for a moment, but he doesn't seem like he wants to talk. And I can respect that, for now, he wants to keep his thoughts to himself. But he can't be silent forever and I really hope that he won't try and be. I really want to try and help him cope, help him handle this, but I can't if he won't open up to me. But for now, I can enjoy his company in silence. I can support him without using words. Whenever he needs me, looks for me, I will be there next to him.

He pulls me close and I feel comforted that he's not pushing me away, he's leaning on me. He squeezes my hand, and I'm sure that he's aware of the ring resting on my finger now, just as I am, as its band presses into my fingers. It's impossible to believe that that moment took place just last night. That just last night we had been so happy, glowing, ecstatic. Just last night we had been celebrating. And now. Now, we were both trying to keep it together, trying to not break down. And it's hard to imagine that we were celebrating and making love while Billy was dying alone. But I pushed those thoughts away. They wouldn't do anyone any good. And because I know in my heart of hearts that we didn't know. And more importantly that Billy never would have begrudged us our happiness. It, he would have wanted over anything else, like all parents do.

His head lowers to my neck. I feel his nose nuzzling my neck and I wrap my arms around him, holding him close. And then he whispers that he loves me so much. One of my hands rubs his back while the other travels up to run through his short cropped hair. "I love you too," I murmur against his cheek as I rest my head against his. "I always have and I always will," I reassure him. I don't want him to think for a second that I would turn my back on him if he needed his own time, or if he retreated for a bit during all of this. I would be here for him through that and when he was ready to come back to me, to talk to me. I'll always be here, the light leading him out of the darkness.

We stay like this for a long time, tangled up in each other's arms, holding each other, comforting each other. We stay like that as the darkness begins to fade and become gray by first signs of light. We stay like that as we begin to see the sun. As the sky begins to be painted in pinks and purples and reds. As the sky lights up like a watercolor painting. We stay like that until the sun is fully visible, shining in the sky. A sky that is now blue and filled with clouds. I don't want to leave. Sitting here, with him, watching the sky change has been the most peaceful thing since we heard the news. And I don't want to go ruin someone else's day. I don't want to have to tell Rachel and watch her break and cry. But she deserves to hear it from us. She needs to know. And she deserves to know before she has a chance to worry about where Billy might be.

"Come on," I say quietly, beginning to disentangle myself from him. I know I don't have to say to where. He'll know.