Chapter 7- All We Are

Author's Note: After much deliberation, I decided I wanted to put this in. It's most likely something you guys wouldn't've expected.

One of the reasons why I love this pairing so much is that their love is so innocent, untainted and pure to start off with. There is a strange, absolutely breathtaking, endearing quality about this situation that I adore. And I thank SM wholeheartedly for creating them. Another reason for me, is in knowing it isn't simply going to be plain sailing for the two soul mates.

Any who, I wanted to add this in, as I wanted to place myself in her shoes. How awful it must be for a little girl to say goodbye to her best friend, I thought to myself. Experiencing something similar with my dad during my first day at nursery (kindergarten) I was heartbroken that he'd left me with strangers for the first time. (Yeah, you laugh. Go ahead. You're all evil.)

Heartbroken wasn't the word actually. I was devastated. Promising me ice cream, the man gave me no warning when he plomped me into a room full of snot-faced kids.

Alright, not quite the same, as it was only for the day, but it didn't stop me from biting him in my desperation to remain clung to him.

Sad, but true. I've grown out of the habit of biting people- not if I can help it anyway- and I bite only if they smell really good. Like Calvin-Klein-Eternity-for-men gooood. That stuff makes me go weak at the knees. Nuf digressing.

Disclaimer: I own everything. Lol. I joke. Please don't sue me. (Who actually does, with these things?)


I tasted, tasted love so sweet
And all of it was lost on me

I kept falling over
I kept looking backward

All we are we are
And every day is a start of something beautiful

And in the end the words won't matter
'Cause in the end nothing stays the same
And in the end dreams just scatter and fall like rain

All We Are

Matt Nathanson

****


With Seth's suggestion, a memory long forgotten haunted me then. It was a memory so painful in fact, I never once looked back on it if I could help it. A memory buried so deep, it almost felt like a vague dream so easily forgotten and misplaced in the wake of consciousness. Sometimes, I wished it were.

But then I could hear him. Words Jacob had said to me so long ago bubbled up to the surface, as if ruthlessly. Like a much-needed breath of air, the mere familiarity of his voice seemed to comfort me.

And then I was lost. Lost in that brief moment of limbo, where the unsettling feelings of nostalgia simply overwhelmed me and speared me once more to the ground.

Nahuel, Embry, Seth, and the pack- they were all lost to me now.

Lost in a disconcerting, familiar world, where a troubled little girl stood by her window, watching unresponsively as the listless snow fell.

I remember she liked the snow.

Mesmerized as she was when she had first laid eyes on such a thing, she was aware that to most, they were merely white lumps of frozen rain. To her, to this unusual little girl, the wonderfully unique patterns on the snowflakes, reminded her often that everyone was different. Different and beautiful in their own way.

Without a sound she placed a small, deliberate hand against the impressive pane before her, as if yearning to touch them.

As I observed, taking in my recollection, I realised that naturally the child wasn't by herself, for she wasn't standing alone.

In fact, two figures stood side by side, ahead of the large, floor-to-ceiling windows. They were both staring out, unseeingly, at the magnificent ivory-white courtyard.

"We can go outside if you want?" Jacob's soft, gravely voice echoed in my mind. He jerked his head to the side, motioning towards the picturesque landscape awaiting them outside. His voice was gentle- hesitant even, trying in vain to get her to talk.

And like a flood of warmth, the feeling of nostalgia simply overwhelmed me and I knew all too well why I was refusing to speak to anyone that day.

Really, with an acute ache, I remember I awoke that morning; temporarily dazed by the falling snow and thinking what I had found out the night before was a dream. A horribly bad dream.

And as she yawned, her lips forming a plump little O shape, the dreaded spark of realisation finally adorned her tired little cherub-cheek face. Indeed her tiny form fell rigid as she sat up groggily that morning, I remember.

She hadn't had much sleep the previous night and recognized as she became more aware of her surroundings, that her right hand had been held against someone's cheeks as she slept.

Aside from the enveloping warmth surrounding it, the first thing she remembered feeling under her little hand was a pulse.

And stubble.

She frowned, reluctantly opening her sleep-riddled eyes and recalling briefly to herself that no one in her family had stubble. Or a pulse for that matter, she mused slowly in her half-comatose state. As if to further spur her in her brilliant mood that morning, she realised a little belatedly that this someone, had sat themselves at the side of her massive bed, watching her sleep and eyeing her now-semi-conscious form apprehensively.

Jacob.

Right away, she swiped her hand from under his and scowled. I remember feeling he had absolutely no right to peak into my dreams. They were now something to keep to myself. Particularly when he, himself was deliberately hiding important things from me. At the time this little girl felt- with conviction so strong she was fit to implode, that this hardly seemed fair.

She didn't want to share her dreams with him right now.

Indeed, the little girl observed him for a moment. With her brow puckered and chocolate eyes sombre, she scrutinized him unabashedly. She didn't want to admit it, but there was no doubt his warm eyes held her. And in that moment of weakness- because Jacob truly was her weakness, she would've simply wanted to jump into his inviting arms, never wanting to let go. In reality however, the situation was a grim one. The once-sided, unmistakable tension emanating from this one little girl was thick like fog and it didn't go unnoticed by Jacob. He returned her intense, immovable stare and held his own. A gaze not quite hard, yet just as unyielding, he held her and he knew it. And as if not quite wanting to upset her further, his equally persistent eyes were playful, silently indulgent. There was something else, she noticed. Something else that utterly submerged her, held her captivated. Something inexplicable, understated yet entirely unmistakable in its presence. She couldn't quite place it, but it all intermingled in his rich, onyx orbs. Frankly, the profound effects were annoying her and she wanted to ignore him and his warm gaze now. It completely contradicted what he planned on doing, so she felt he had no right to do it.

And as if knowing exactly what would hurt him the most, she chose to ignore him completely. The little girl was all too aware of just how hurtful that simple action was for Jacob, but this only seemed to spur her to forge ahead in her abstaining. Breaking her silence now, would do nothing for her sobriety -deterring the symbolism of her feelings entirely and hence, her cause.

I remember feeling resentful towards everyone that day. For keeping something so important from me. In reality, child-me- in her state of fatigue, struggled out of her covers in her zealous irritation. She even struggled to land on her feet when she leapt off the bed to get away from his simple words of 'good morning.'

Without a sound, Jacob had reached out towards her almost instinctively and steadied her tumbling form. He of course, released the little girl reluctantly after witnessing her blushing furiously and beginning to protest in his arms.

It appeared, despite the melancholy in his eyes, he was slightly amused by this reaction and even bit back a small smile, watching her as she stalked off with exaggerated composure.

That was earlier that morning…

Now however, as she stood near her window, her curly, tousled hair was tied up carelessly into a loose, messy ponytail. She continued to watch the snow intently- using it as an excuse, a lifeline, to ignore the painful conversation awaiting her and her best friend.

Having simply found out the night prior from an oblivious Emmett, that Jake had planned on leaving once we were ensconced, she wasn't in the mood to play dress up with Ali or Rosie that morning and had instead, discarded her Hello Kitty jim-jams in favour of Baby Dior. I remember feeling I realised something imperative that night. His life wasn't in Hanover – not with us, not with me. It was back in La Push. His home. He had his own life, his own friends, and his own family there.

We- my family and I, could never be a part of that for long. Not really.

I knew this back then, but I didn't care. Not when the overwhelming grief simply vetoed any sense of logic and feelings of consideration for this little girl.

"Renesmee, you're going to have to talk to me sometime…" Jacob said softly, following a prolonged hour of silence. Well I say silence, but he was having an awkward, one-sided conversation with himself, whilst child-me stood brooding out of the window.

She didn't choose to say anything however, and instead, felt his eyes searching her face, anxiously waiting a response. It was then too, that she noticed, his most recent words were said with such understated sorrow; it lingered beneath the surface long enough for child-me to bite her lips.

No.

She shoved that fickle moment of weakness aside.

She had to hold her ground. He couldn't break her. Not now.

"Ness?"

She continued to stare out of the window, observing now, as one of her uncles came out the expensive pool house- an annexe situated at the far end, away from the main house, with a big cheshire grin on his face. At the time, I didn't quite know why of course, but they- my parents, were still in- what my aunts called 'their honeymoon phase,' and so Edward and Bella chose to reside there –totally separate from the main house. I of course had my own room with my parents too, but I remember recalling at the time, I wasn't sleeping very well.

As she witnessed him coming out, she wondered briefly as to what had Emmett smiling so much. As far as she could tell, neither of her parents were home…

Jacob sighed. "It won't be forever, Ness."

Still she said nothing. And it was clear, reflecting back on it, that there was no mistaking just how much he was suffering because of this.

"You know, I can't change the inevitable-" he continued, she snorted under her breath. "…But there's something you can do when you really miss me."

Still nothing.

"All you have to do is close your eyes, and I'm there…" he continued.

We were in my new room in Hanover. It was a strikingly elegant high ceiling-ed room, which included impressive, period piece windows contrasting against the off-white walls.

I observed as the child version of me screwed up her little face, refusing to leave her glare from the window as she took in his words. Her pink, plump lips jutting with restrained irritation, her angel cheeks—a flush of violent colour.

It didn't matter that he was towering over her form, the little girl looked markedly more irritable with his latest words now. She glanced at her translucent reflection and gimaced at her hair. It didn't do anything for her mood. "I don't think that'll work, Jacob." She finally replied, her small voice hoarse from going unused for so long.

Jacob craned his head down to look at her, his usually vivacious eyes looked unbearably dejected then. Regardless of this however, he forced a smile on for her nonetheless. The smile, intended to be light and reassuring, was instead almost miserable. "Why's that?" he asked softly.

She didn't look away. "Because it…it just won't."

He folded his large arms across his massive chest and leant against the expensive window frame.

As pathetic as it might sound, it was then that I realised it was hard not to observe, even in my recollection, just how effortlessly sexy he could be. It was as if my apparently more adult mind was magnetically drawn to the top of his jeans, where I noticed half of his fitted T-shirt was tucked in, the other, sitting low. His raven black hair too, I noticed, was enticingly unkempt. It hit me then that Jacob, without having to say a word or do anything remotely suggestive, exuded something enticing -and more terrifying- elicited something innate and strange in me.

"Won't? Or because you just don't want to try, Renesmee?"

In an unconscious attempt to mimic him, she too crossed her little arms across her tiny chest, albeit slightly more passionately. "A bit of both, maybe." She admitted, indignantly.

As if with concerted effort, Jacob fought a smile and instead frowned, feigning hurt. "Won't you miss me then?"

My four-year-old head finally shot up in that instant. Her violent nest of reddish-brown curls bobbing and swaying in defiance. "I will," She objected, puckering a brow, at the very thought of him thinking otherwise. "But it's silly to think I can see you when you're not here. That's just highly improbable. It goes against what Uncle Jazz has taught me about logistics."

Jacob nodded understandingly- adoringly even. Again, I got the impression he was indulging in humouring her. "Well, as important as logistics is, Nessie- because, it really is-" he added pointedly,"I'm sure Uncle Jazz will be the first to say-"

"That's like saying magic really exists, when we all know Disney wants you to think this, and I've already tried telling Claire, but she just won't believe me." The little girl interrupted, babbling away now.

It took a moment for Jake to take this all in. "Wait. What? You don't believe in magic?" his voice sounded strange. So strange in fact, you'd think I admitted to killing a man in cold blood. "Since when?"

She gazed into his troubled eyes then and was temporarily taken aback at just how upset they were finding out this news. At the time, I didn't think it was such a big deal."If I can't see it, then no."

He was unmoved by my answer, and so I elaborated. "If I can see it and if I can touch it, then it's real. And..." she began adding, attempting to answer his latter query, "…it happened a couple of months ago when uncle Emmett was trying to do magic, but I saw the handkerchief hiding in his sleeve."

He blinked spastically then. "And you told Claire this too?"

She returned her gaze back to the pane again, now attempting to stare down an old willow tree in the distance. Her grandmother's love for landscape maintenance, she silently mused to herself, made Cullen land enticing and enchanting- almost worthy of something belonging to a fairytale. "Well, I thought she had a right to know the truth, Jake."

He didn't say anything.

And then his worrying silence drew out a newfound paranoia in her. She frowned in uncertainty. "Did I do something wrong?" She finally asked quietly.

There was a brief pause where Jacob looked like he was thinking of how to best word what he was about to say. I remember thinking if the situation wasn't so depressing, the look on his face would've made me laugh.

Jacob looked adorable when he thought for long moments at a time. "Well," he finally began, totally oblivious to the little girl's observations, "…let's just say we're gonna have to give Quil or Emily a quick call later to iron out that crease."

I puckered my brow again. "But... I did make a crease?"

Again, he briefly thought how to word this next bit. "You're special." He started again unhurriedly.

The little girl rolled her eyes at that. I was convinced- and to this day, still am- about Jacob Black seeing me through some sort of rose-tinted glasses. I loved him, but I couldn't help thinking his observations about me would hold more weight if he wasn't so biased.

"What?" he asked innocently. His indulgent tone made the little girl want to smile, I remember, but she had to remember that she was supposed to remain angry with him. It was difficult however, to not smile when you were around Jake. Next to impossible even. "You are." He continued, " And I know you know this..."

The room fell silent once more.

"I don't want to be special. I just want to be me."

"Pretty girl, you still don't get it do you? Being 'just you' already makes you special."

She sighed despondently. "Depends on what you think is special, Jacob. To most people… I'm probably something to be scared of. But it's okay. Not everyone's going to like what I am." I was very aware from an early age- thanks to Caius, having described me as a mutant in a clearing abundant of snow, that not everyone was going to appreciate what I was.

All I knew however, was that I wasn't alone in this world. A man just like me came and saved us all and I knew I'd always be his friend.

I looked back up at Jacob then. His vacant eyes were filled with tears. It was something I had never seen before. Not from Jake.

I took his hand in mine and squeezed it gently. Frankly, I remember this scared me.

Suddenly, as if only now aware of me reassuring him, he blinked back the tears. He used his other hand and with his index and thumb, sloppily wiped them away. I got the impression he was mustering up a sense of strange casualness as he did this, trying to not get me curious. "Is that really what you think?" he croaked, clearing his throat.

I shook my head, my feverish tendrils following suit. "I don't think it. I know it. And it's okay. I don't understand sometimes, but I accept it. I scare some people."

He shook his head too, an annoyed look on his face now. "It's okay?" he repeated in an uncharacteristic deadpan voice. And then he paused to sigh. "You've got it so wrong, princess." He knew how much I hated that nickname, but the little girl was far too discomforted by how soft and composed his words came out. It was a stark contrast to his expression.

I didn't want to argue with Jacob on this, so I let it go. "Claire doesn't know how lucky she is to know magic still exists."

He held his breath and didn't say anything. This was something- to this day- I didn't understand. It was if he was biting his tongue...preventing him from sharing something with me.

"I wish I was like that. I wish I was like Claire."

"Why?" Jacob finally exhaled loudly and looking at me in undefined horror. "You're perfect the way you are. And Ness, magic does exist. You're here, aren't you? Magic brought you to me."

What did that mean?

I raised a curious brow at that and a new question was born. "Jacob, where do babies actually come from?"

Jacob's beautiful face was drained of all colour and his once playful eyes bulged into what I could only describe as the size of saucers. Short of looking like he was having a heart attack, he composed himself long enough to form a sentence. "Er… I just told you. Magic." Wanting to place emphasis on the last word, he even did the jazz hands.

Hmm.

Not quite satisfied with that explanation, I asked another one. "Why can't momma and daddy make more magic so I can have a little brother?"

Jake craned his neck down and eyed me curiously then. "Is that what you want?"

"I wouldn't mind." I shrugged. I poked his left hand with my right index and quickly flashed him everyone I knew…

Nahuel- the man who saved me, had his sisters. Jacob had his sisters –not to mention his pack brothers. Claire had her older sister. Daddy had his brothers and sisters. Mom kind of had Jacob…

"A little brother?" Jacob repeated again after I had finished.

"Someone to take care of so I didn't feel like the baby." I explained almost impatiently, as if that was the most obvious explanation in the world. "I'd feel a little normal…" To have someone who shared the same genetic makeup...

"Ness, why would you want to be normal when you can be spectacular?"

The little girl sighed against the window. The warmth of her breath expelled a lasting mist, leaving moisture against the previously unspoiled window. She decided to draw a butterfly with her index finger. The family had recently found out she was left-handed, and according to Rose, with a creative streak apparently rivalling her own father's. "Sometimes... being spectacular is overrated, Jacob." She said quietly.

"Sure." He conceded, again, so softly. "A bit like being normal."

To that, she said nothing, now drawing a companion for her fluttering butterfly –a dog.

Jacob sighed again, this time out of meloncholy. "What I'm trying to say here is, you'll see things in the world the way other kids won't…"

She knew what this meant. "Claire still believes in magic." She helped finish, figuring the obvious out too late. The damage was now done and she hated feeling so stupid. Stupid for not realising she'd compromised someone's take on the world. Not just anyone's: her friend Claire's.

We finally appeared about the same age when we stood next to each other- Claire looking slightly more older if anything.

Inhaling noisily through his nose, Jacob held his breath. "Yeah." And then he finally exhaled, "Telling her otherwise is going to just upset her…"

In a state of horror, Child-me stopped drawing for a moment. "I didn't want to upset her…"

"I know, honey, I know. Maybe 'upset' is the wrong word to use here..."

The little girl returned to her window, her eyes momentarily glazing over with tears. "Ness, you wanna talk about why you don't believe in magic?"

She was way too engrossed in her doodling now –any excuse to stall the coming conversation.

"Fine. We don't have to talk about it."

She realised a little late in the day, that the butterfly was way too high up in the sky, whilst the pup was still on the ground, desperately trying to play with it.

"I don't think you upset Claire, Ness..."

She frowned at the now-flying-butterfly. It was too high for her pup to reach.

Stupid butterfly.

"I think it'd just confuse Claire, you know…." Jacob finally concluded. Finally, he began observing for himself what she was so engrossed in doing against the window. "And, Nessie, it's okay. You didn't know…"

Before Jake could get a chance and discern what it meant, she quickly rubbed away the offensive doodle using her sleeve. "Maybe you're right." She blurted out- an attempt to distract him from his prying. "She didn't look upset when I told her. She just looked at her DVD cover and frowned."

"Hm." Jacob replied. Having witnessed her desperate attempts to conceal whatever it was, he eyed her dubiously- suspicious of her doodling now. "I'm definitely going to have to call Quil or Emily later I think. How long ago was this?"

"Before we left for here…" she shrugged her small shoulders.

The sullen little girl went back to gazing out the window. Like a ghost, she watched on from the confines of her foreign, new room, as her bear-like uncle began teasing his wife. Simultaneously, he began compiling materials he ordered a few days previously in order to put together his latest outdoor project.

Apparently he was going to construct a jungle gym, sturdy enough for a half vampire to play on…

****

It was a while before either of them had spoken again. It felt like they were both lost in their own thoughts, and found quiet solace just by being around each other.

"Right." Jake was the first to break the silence, his voice almost sounding like cackling thunder against the comparative stillness. "Well, Nessie, you can't see love. Does that mean that doesn't exist?"

Comprehending his words, not for the first time that day, did she frown. "Bad example, Jacob. Emotions exude changes in the body all the time. That's actually what uncle Jazz manipulates."

"Oh."

"So actually, we can see them if you think about it." She replied, matter-of-factly.

"Right. How stupid of me."

"Besides, that's not what I mean when I say I need to see it to believe it any way, Jacob."

Jacob bit back a smile.

"I see love everyday when daddy kisses momma. It's always like he hasn't done it in a while..."

Jacob screwed up his face then. "Yeah. I get what you mean by that. Do you get sick of it sometimes?"

"Not really." She shrugged, turning back to look at Emmett who was now hammering away to the music that was blasting through his ipod. He was deliberately ignoring Rose right now.

Bad move, the little girl thought to herself.

Even as a child, she knew the consequences of uncle Em ignoring Rosie. She knew they fought a lot, but made up almost instantly. The making up consisted of her aunt hitting him a lot around the head though. It was something child-me didn't quite understand, but loved to watch.

She also observed that when it came to thrashing and hammering things, her uncle looked like he was enjoying himself just a little too much.

The little girl worried about him sometimes.

"I play with Rosie and my uncles when they decide to do that. And when they're not around, I read or Google."

Jake nodded knowingly, deliberately turning away from the now two grappling forms outside. "Good call."

"And Jake, I see love when they're wrestling, too. They like to do that a lot."

It took him a moment to figure out what wrestling meant before she felt him become visibly rigid- something I didn't quite understand at the time. "Is that so?" he asked slowly, his voice unusually even.

Not looking away from Emmett's dodgy efforts of escapism, she nodded, her dishevelled curls bobbing brutally alongside her. Jacob couldn't fight back an adoring smile then. "Uh-huh. In the mornings, they stop though. Momma usually sounds really out of breath, and happy."

She looked up, smiling timidly.

Jacob didn't smile back though.

His eyes were intently boring holes on the ivory-white carpet of my new room. He looked lost, deep in thought once more.

"What's wrong?"

Her enquiry appeared to shake him up again, "Nothing's wrong, honey. I'm just gonna have to have a word to Ed about that later too, I think…" he replied, more to himself. "Stop trying to change the subject."

She frowned. "I'm not!"

"Sure, sure. My point is," he began, "…that just because we can't see something doesn't mean it's not there."

The little girl screwed her face again. Clearly, the unmistakable scepticism was difficult to suppress for her. "That's just…stupid."

"S'not." He disagreed, sounding indulgent again. He knelt down to level his eyes with her own. They were so intense. Abruptly, her pouting face looked away, not wanting to yield. "When you miss me the most, just close your eyes, and try?" He said tenderly.

Then, shocking them both, she hissed. It was a sound most would consider the least threatening, but Jacob tried not to laugh.

"No!" She protested, stomping her little foot again. It left a small dent on the floor and she bit her lip in resentment.

Jacob, raising an eyebrow, fell back to regard her more closely.

"I can't see you if I have my eyes closed." She explained, more exasperated than ever.

He briefly flashed a heart-stopping smile. A smile that almost melted her icy stance. To an unusually observant little girl though, it was a smile filled with pain she couldn't quite place. Grief? "I'm not going anywhere just yet, kiddo." He offered quietly.

Her face fell and her eyes once more glazed over with swelling tears yet to be shed. She was more aware than ever that he was leaving her. "I don't want you to go." She mewled, the anger instantly evaporating into absolute desperation. "Pleassse don't go." She pleaded, grabbing his huge, muscled forearms.

With a sting of displeasure, my four-year-old-looking eyes grew wide and was temporarily boggled at just how pale my little hands looked in contrast to Jake's beautifully warm, russet skin.

Her touch just looked so out of place on him. And this stark, discomforting contrast seemed to break her heart even more.

"Baby, we talked about this…" he cooed, softly, the unmistakable sorrow wrought in his own voice.

A protesting, whimpering sound escaped her trembling lips again. As if looking for another tactic, her distraught eyes were once again wide with anguish and began desperately searching around her room- anythingto help her case.

"Honey, look at me." Jake urged softly. His large hand cupped her tiny, tear stained face, as he tried to get her attention. I didn't miss the silent anguish locked away, desperate to be let out too.

She refused to meet his searching eyes however.

Looking back on it, desperate was not the word I'd use to describe just how absolutely and completely distraught I was.

"Pleaaase. Please don't leave." She cried in such unconditional grief, that Jasper had to crane his head around the door in quiet concern.

"Everything okay?" he asked quietly, despite knowing full well nothing was okay.

It never would be.

To this child, it felt like the roof was caving in and my two-and-half-year old existence was crashing down all around me. Regardless of this very crucial fact, my uncle took small, cautious steps and ventured into my room. I didn't overlook him eyeing my sobbing form sympathetically.

I didn't want his sympathy. I didn't want his understanding. I wanted his help.

The struggling little girl collapsed into Jake's chest and began painfully dry-heaving her heart out- choking out the flood of tears. I remember in my distraught state, I was struggling to breathe that day. Only the sweet cadence of Jake's heart kept me calm enough to stop.

And in that moment, I wanted to hide from the world. I buried myself into him so desperately, because I simply didn't want anyone to see me cry.

And I certainly didn't want anyone pitying me.

She didn't want anyone to see her sobbing, even though she was getting Jake's black T-shirt absolutely drenched with her tears. Jacob didn't seem to care, and clung to her as desperately as she needed him.

Her already loose ponytail had now come completely undone and although he tried for a brief moment to put it back on her, her head flinched away in avid protest. Her furious curls were sticking to her wet face now. Not knowing what to do with it, Jacob wore her pink Hello Kitty hair band on his wrist instead.

And like a veil, her coat of mangled hair was covering her face now.

She preferred it this way. It helped her bury herself further. It helped her until she realised someone was trying to stroke away her much-loved mask.

No. It certainly didn't help that the traitor's fingers were intertwining with my curls, lovingly stroking them out of the way so he could see my tortured little face more clearly."Pleasetell him to stay!" She choked, finding her new approach: this time pleading with Uncle Jazz.

As if he could change Jake's mind.

Jasper looked like he was suffering along with her.

I remember feeling that was no good. Clearly Jasper was just as upset about this as me.

Unhurriedly, her hunched figure turned back to Jake. She felt like a fighter with absolutely no fight left in her.

Jacob was silent as he met her pained brown eyes. He didn't say anything. In fact his face simply crumpled in undeniable pain. A pain, I was surprised to see, mirroring my own childlike agony. He searched the little girl's eyes and began to wordlessly stroke her tears away again.

"NO." She cried, once more whipping her face away from his hands in defiant rage now.

Hurt by the sudden rejection, Jacob made a strange, wounded sound, as if he were physically hurt seeing me so distraught.

This didn't go unnoticed by the little girl either. Indeed, through the obvious anger and the betraying tears, she shot him a suspicious look. "Why are you crying? You're not the one who has to stay here. You're not the one who has no friends here. You're the one leaving and going back home. You're the one leaving me."

He shook his head, swallowing hard and attempted to wrap his arms around me even tighter- something I didn't think was possible at the time. "I'm not leaving you. I could never leave you. Please don't think that…"

The distraught child ignored him. "You are because you're not staying."

"Honey, we've talked-"

"You're not allowed to cry!" She announced, trying to ignore the strange ache in her throat. I remember thinking it was a different type of pain I was usually accustomed to, so foreign and unexpected. Not the one I usually had when I was thirsty. This pain was like a painful lump I couldn't quite swallow down. It made things difficult to talk to him, to fight back the tears.

Jacob cleared his throat and pulled away to regard me again, the look of pain- of sadness, still evident in his features and his eyes. "Ness, we talked about this, remember? We'll still see each other. All the time. You need to be a big girl and spread your wings without me for a while. You need to learn to do that all on your own, baby."

Thinking back to her idiot butterfly, she shook my head vehemently again at that. "I'm not a baby."

"Of course, you're not." Jake conceded slowly- condescendingly. It was his attempt at trying to alleviate the already disastrous situation. "You're a toddler. There's a clear difference."

She whimpered now against his neck, "Why don't I get a say in my life?"

"Because you're too little and, just like everyone around you, I love you and want what's best for you." He replied.

She reluctantly contemplated this for several inconsequential moments and then lifted a defiant little hand to meet his strained, patient face.

I remember leasing all my woes- my misery, the devastating qualms I'd felt upon finding out and I let them flood his mind like a sheet of black rain. Hard to ignore.

I rested a dimpled hand against his neck. What if you're what's best for me? I asked silently, praying this would break him. I was momentarily irked however, by just how small and inconsequential my voice sounded, even in my mind. Just so vulnerable.

He didn't say anything and slowly- as if indifferently, blinked back the tears.

What if you're good? What if you're what's best for me? I continued, desperately now.

And then my four-year-old wide-awake eyes observed as his face crumpled in unquestionable grief. Grief he had been trying to reign in all this time.

The little girl was thoroughly confused now.

"One day, you'll understand." He croaked, trying to sound reassuring- convincing even, and failing miserably. "One day, it'll-"

But his words were lost to her now and realisation finally hit my physically four-year-old self, and it only spurred me to become even more distraught.

In his arms, the little girl began fidgeting. Indeed, fidgeting and pushing away from him. I wasn't acting myself at all. Kicking and squirming, I was desperate to break free from his iron clasp hold- something I never thought I'd feel. "Renesmee…"

My pleas were obviously in vain. Spurred on by that disconcerting thought, I ignored his soothing affects and struggled to break away at first. He sighed and, accepting what I wanted, he didn't fight my tries and let me go, albeit reluctantly.

I leapt a foot away from him.

"Nessie, honey, it's not like this is forever. I'll visit. And we're gonna see each other all the time." He croaked, his conflicting eyes following my slowly receding form.

"No." I stomped again, backing away from his tormented profile. "You just don't love us enough anymore to stay." It came out a shaky, irate whisper. I remember feeling slightly surprised to see my furious little voice cracking in places I didn't want them to.

"Er…Shall I get Edward?" Jasper asked quietly. "Maybe she'll calm it if he talks to her…"

Child-me whipped her head to regard Jasper. She scowled at her traitor uncle. "I'm not stupid. Daddy's going to say the same thing!" she shrieked, the tears swelling again. "Jacob just doesn't want to be with us anymore."

"No." Jake argued back, his voice absolute. I wasn't quite sure who that was towards: me or Jasper. "That's not true and you know it, Renesmee."

Ah, me then.

Child-me hadn't realised she had backed herself into a corner until her back hit the wall.

She resented this room.

I recall feeling it was a stranger's room to me. Back then, I yearned to be back in Forks- back to Claire, Embry, Quil, Grampa Charlie, Sue, Aunt Lee and Seth too. Everyone I loved was back there. My home was back there.

"I don't think I like you very much anymore." I finally declared, the tears falling like a flood now. Her plump, rose petal lips jutted with the hurling of her words. At the time, maybe I wanted it to be true—just fib to myself to make the hurt vanish.

Jacob instantly froze. Even his breathing momentarily stopped. Completely stunned by my insensitive words, it simply stopped him cold.

And then she instantly regretted it. I instantly regretted it. His big beautiful eyes were full of awful aguish. Anguish I had created. And I hated myself for it. I had hurt him.

"Nessie, please don't say that..." He said, with a voice so small it was barely recognisable. It was strange to hear it cracking in places too. He even blinked back his own stinging tears now.

"Why? It's the truth." She argued, ignoring the all consuming, nagging feeling of hurting him. I hated hurting him.

"It's not." Jasper interjected, sitting on my big, new, foreign bed now. "She doesn't mean it, Jacob."

My accusatory eyes briefly flickered over to where my conspiring-uncle had sat. I was disgruntled at just how sad he looked for me. "Jacob, shall I get one of the girls?" He asked again. "It's just I can't seem to calm her down and I think Edward's out with Carlisle. Maybe a mother's touch is what's needed here…"

"I don't want that." I snapped, shoving my body as powerfully as I could possibly manage against the wall.

Not even Bella could stop me feeling this way right now.

"I don't need anything! I don't need anyone!" I screeched. "And I don't need you." I bellowed, turning back to Jacob and shooting him a venomous look.

Of course, I didn't mean this. I was just too busy having my first, real breakdown to stop the words from spilling out of my own mouth, like a tragic impact of trains.

To the little girl's immense satisfaction, her collision with her wall caused an imposing dent.

"Nessie, stop it." Jake chided half-heartedly.

In that moment and with the unmistakable noise I was making, I sensed someone else enter my room then. "Hey, Ness, come outside for a minute. I got something to show you,"Emmett sang, entering my room. "Woah." He breathed, his voice dramatically lowering as he took in the scene before him before admiring my handy work from afar. "I'm impressed, Squirt." He finally commented, as he joined Jasper on my bed.

"Now's not the best time to show her, Em."

"I gathered."

The little girl ignored them both and balled all her strength into hurling her body weight against the wall again. "I"-thwack- " don't"-thump- "appreciate"- split-"being" –crunch- "talked" –crack- "about"-snap- "as if" –wallop- "I'm not"-whack- "here either." She sniped before she began beating the crap out of the wall with her head.

"Oh, my God, stop that now!" Jake freaked, his face a homage of horror as he lunged at her small frame.

In one fluid movement, she quickly darted out of the way, ignoring them all.

I was aware Jasper looked bowled over with my previous words.

And…

Crack.

This time, there were visible fracture lines where my powerful little hands had formed fissures in the dense, plastered wall. And like black veins, they creeped their way up the great distance slowly, to meet the high ceiling above.

She stood to admire her personal attack on her boring wall. I remember thinking the clefts and fissures were a nice contrast against the plain, uninteresting white. In a bid to win me over with the move, grandma wanted me to pick and choose what I wanted to go on my walls. At the time however, understandably, it took me a while to appreciate the gesture.

"What's going on?" Emmett asked Jasper in an childlike voice, struck with awe. He asked, unable to not look away from my abusing the house too. "What did you guys do? What's wrong with her?"

"What we've done?" Jasper asked in disbelief. "Em, you can't be serious?"

Emmett was entirely oblivious to Jasper's responce, and instead, didn't look away. It was as if the strange curiosity was getting the better of him and my vampire uncle was physically struggling to pry his eyes away.

"It's your fault she's like this now, you idiot. Her parents had a plan. They were going to break this to her gently."

"Hey, it was an accident." Emmett replied, finally- reluctantly tearing his focus away to regard his brother. He smiled sheepishly. "And it's not like I'm not paying for it now."

Aunt Rose wasn't impressed with his inadvertent blurting, I remember. His earlier ignoring can't've helped his case or alleviate the situation.

"What should we do?"

"I don't know."

Child-me took her hands and balled them into tight little fists now, trying to block everything out as I began attacking the architectural concrete, the plastering. "Stop" –punch- "talking" –thwack- " about me!"

"Err, Ness, I'd stop that now if I were you, honey. Grandma's not gonna like it."

Like a tide of absolute destruction, I started thumping into the heavily insulated surface, only vaguely aware the three grown men behind me, looked on in a mixture of awe, horror and disbelief. Actually, that was Emmett's, Jacob's and Jasper's faces- in that order.

It felt good to punch the hard plaster, to hit a brick wall. Because that's essentially what this was. Hitting a brick wall. I didn't even notice my bleeding knuckles as I relished slamming through the cavity until Jasper began hissing in discomfort.

"Stop it!" Jake growled, forcibly clasping my hands into his stronger ones. Like someone possessed, I growled at him and fought with all my might to avoid succumbing to his calming effects on me.

I didn't want to feel calm right now and I made that perfectly known.

He ignored me and wordlessly, picked me up and held me against his hard body so tightly I could barely breathe at first. I hissed again in protest, fighting -quite feebly- to get away from him.

Instead, quite amazingly however- as if instinctually- I breathed in his familiar musky, heady scent and was lost. All my furious rage, my violent need to destroy, gone. The painful ache, the awful fullness in my throat was replaced it however, and with it, I remembered feeling what a strange foriegn discomfort this was. "Stop it right now, Renesmee." He cooed into my hair. He sat on my bed and took my bleeding knuckles into his large hands, observing them in horror. "God, you're bleeding."

"Ah, that's nothing. She'll be fine." Emmett shrugged.

I didn't understand why at the time, but Jacob bit back a growl. It was so powerful; I heard it rumbling fiercely- menacingly, in his chest.

I remember asking myself why he was angry with Emmett when it was I making all the mess.

"Cool it, Jake." He continued softly, and then turned to me. "They're just grazes, aren't they Loch-ness?"

I whimpered, again, wanting to hide into Jacob now. Indeed, sensing this, Jacob just wrapped his arms tighter around me, letting me bury myself into him.

Her mind wondered briefly as she referred back to the wall. Aware now of the implications her actions caused, she was anxious as to what her father would say to her destroying a small corner of her room. She bit her blood-red lips in worry.

When her breathing became more even, she closed my eyes against his chest. She wanted, so desperately, for everything to just be the way it was back in Forks.

"How are you doing that?" Jasper asked him curiously from behind.

Jacob didn't answer, and instead, began to carefully stroke my hair out of my face again. "I don't want to go either, Ness…"

"Then don't." I whined against him.

At the time, I thought it was a simple enough request. Certainly, if he didn't want to leave, I didn't understand why he had to make us both miserable like this.

He sighed however. It was a broken, haggard, barely audible sound- a sound of silent misery. "Jazz, Emmett, I got this." He murmured as if only just remembering they were still there over my head.

I didn't hear them leave when I lifted my heavy head up to see them. Only now was I feeling the throbbing pain, albeit a little belatedly. I could feel the tightening of my small muscles, particularly of the upper back -my tiny shoulders were hunched -as if compulsively, my neck too, rigid and my head, simply swimming in a raw place. It was all an innate capability in lowering a persons tolerance to pain.

Before my eyes swept over my bed, I noticed both my uncles were already gone.

Ironically, all I felt right now was pain. Indeed, I let my face collapse back and nestle itself into the crook of his neck. His massive body felt like a warm cocoon right now. Always safe. Always protecting me. A place I never wanted to leave if I could help it.

"Then why are you leaving?" Child-me asked again, my rough voice muffled against his neck. Though it only took a few minutes for me to calm it completely, my breathing however, was an entirely different story. With the flood of endorphins swimming in my system- a natural responce to the stressful situation- the random spouts of uneven breathlessness that came after the aftermath of a good cry attacked me periodically. I didn't know back then that this was my body's way of coping.

Each time, Jacob began rubbing reassuring circles against my tiny back. It helped.

"Have we" –heave, heave, heave- "done something" –sigh- "to upset you?"

I stopped, desperately trying to get my breathing even again so I could communicate more effectively with him.

He waited. He waited so patiently I wanted to cry all over again.

He even began to rub a few more circles on my hunched back, cradling me in his arms slowly. "I'll tell Aunt Rosie to stop teasing you if you want."

Softly, he chuckled and kissed the top of my hair tenderly. It was an unusual sound. One I hadn't ever heard Jake make. It sounded so forced. More like he was clearing his throat. "Don't do that. You'll be stopping the fun, pretty girl."

I considered this in my dry heaving and couldn't quite understand their squabbles. I could only imagine it to be out of love for each other. A deeply buried, hidden affection.

"Oh." I conceded, my four–year-old voice so small and coarse after the not-so-mini tantrum. "Then have Idone something wrong? I'll finish what daddy cooks for me every night if you want."

As if magnetically drawn, child-me saw his Adam's apple bob up and then painfully back down. "I expect you to do that anyway, little miss."

As if it were a final stab of protest, she shook her head against his massive chest, rubbing her eyes. They felt so sore. "I won't if you don't stay…" Her voice began to dangerously wobble again.

At the time, I only thought this was fair.

His face crumpled however.

"I'd do it, Jake."

With that, his already tight grasp on me, tightened more powerfully. It was as if his arms were made just for me- just to hold and cradle me. It was an irrational conclusion I had come to as a child, and as quickly as the thought flooded my mind, I had to shove it to one side, never wanting to think it again. "You drive a hard bargain."

Finally understanding the reality of the situation now, she smiled sadly. "Do we have a deal then?" I couldn't help asking it. It was hard not to hide the hope- the naïve optimism; despite knowing it was all in vain. He kissed her hair tenderly again- a soothing gesture I knew, but I took it as silent confirmation. Indeed, not for the first time that day, did he begin to slowly rock his large torso from side to side, cradling me.

I fell back into him, knowing full well what the answer would be before he'd even uttered a word.

"Sorry, baby girl."

Her comparatively small arms clutched at his neck then. And then she sighed. It was either that, or cry again. "I'll miss you a lot."

And there it was again: Jacob's eyes crumpling in unmistakable pain. "Not as much as I'll miss you." He tried to laugh.

I realised even back then, he was putting on a brave face. Why? Who was he kidding?

"I don't understand why you're doing this."

Truly, I didn't.

"Sometimes, it's best to leave people you love. To give them room to grow…" he breathed, once more gently kissing my hair. I ignored the snow outside and observed his transparent reflection against the window. His eyes closed when he did this, as if he were breathing in my scent and not wanting to forget.

Just like I had moments ago with him.

"I have this big house. Isn't that plenty of space? It's not like you're that big."

With his eyes closed, he swung her gently in his arms again. "You know that's not what that means…"

There was silence. She snuggled deeper into his warmth.

"This isn't fair."

She felt him once more rub calming circles on her tiny back then. "You'll love it here, Ness. It's so pretty. I promise you won't feel alone. Just…" He sighed as if the words were too painful to say out loud, "…give it a chance."

She snorted at that. "I doubt that. You're the only person I can play with and be myself around."

He opened his eyes slowly and craned his neck to meet her shying face. When before they were full of silent misery, now they were softer and impossibly more beautiful.

The smile he supplied, intended to be bright and reassuring, was almost unmistakably one of melancholy however. It didn't go unnoticed by my child-self, and I remember experiencing my heart breaking for the first time.

"That's not true." He murmured, "You can be yourself around your family too. Emmett's always up for a good game of tag. You know that."

She sighed restlessly against his neck again. "I love them, but it's not the same." She replied, burying her face impossibly deeper into his warmth, wanting to avoid his guilt-ridden eyes.

I remember inhaling another greedy lungful and feeling I didn't want to forget his delicious, homely scent. "Plus, Emmett calls it Humpire tag. I don't like that much."

"I'll tell him to stop." He soothed quietly, circling his hands once more on my back. Without a sound, she nodded against him. "You know you're my best friend, right?"

She exhaled noisily. Her jutting lips, refusing to let words out. "I know…"

"Best friends do what's best for each other…"

"And momma?" I reminded him, lifting my head up slightly. The throbbing wasn't stopping, but I didn't care. I had found a new angel. "You wouldn't want to leave for momma, would you Jake? She doesn't need space to grow..."

"Of course. But she has Alice and Edward. And I love you more…" he replied adoringly again.

I remember I didn't say anything to that. That crazy lump wasn't letting me. Instead, my little arms tightened around his neck.

We stood there in painful silence once more, silently watching the falling snow again. I remember feeling -if I could- I would've just kept that moment and captured it into a toy snow dome.

I let Jacob cradle me the rest of that evening .

***

"Ness," He said, his course voice once more breaking the silence like cracking ice, "…you remember what I gave you for your first Christmas?" he asked against my hair.

First Christmas…

Of course I remembered.

The little girl immediately broke away from him then and stroked the leather-twined bracelet her left wrist adorned.

Jake smiled softly. "Yeah, that. Remember what it means?"

She looked back at the intricately plaited bracelet, her expression so sombre. "You promised to always be there for me."

She didn't look up at him when she answered.

Jacob's eyes were pained again, but he nodded. "Exactly. And I swear, I'll be there. Anytime you need me. I'm there."

"I don't see how." She replied, her voice unusually even, as if hopeless. Ignoring his probing eyes, she began to let her little fingers coast over the pleated patterns instead. With her head bowed down, engrossed in another distraction, her impossibly plump little lips were protruding even more.

"There'll be days when I won't see you." He began, "…Days when I'll be upset and the only thing to keep me going is a hug from you…" he breathed, refusing to look away from the little girl's pouting face.

I avoided his eyes, knowing full well I'd cry again. I remember feeling the strange lump in my throat had returned- with a vengeance. And I hated it. "Ness, look at me please." He urged, gently lifting my chin up with his finger. "You know what I do when you're not around to give me that awesome hug?"

"You use speed dial?" She offered.

A corner of his lips lifted up. "Sometimes, yeah. But when I don't have my cell on me, or I know you're having a nap in that moment, I usually just close my eyes and think of you. Just to make sure you're okay…It helps all the time."

She sighed again, shying away from his intense eyes. "Sure, Jake." She replied, letting her attention get back to tracing the plaits on her bracelet.

Jacob sighed too, kissing her temple this time. "You'll always be my best friend, Renesmee. Always. Nothings going to change that. You know that too, right?"

She nodded grimly whilst his lips were still against her forehead. Unaware of imitating her in his sympathy, he nodded slowly alongside with her.

"I love you so much. I guess you know that, too?" He said, his voice laden with emotion now.

Of course I did, but I couldn't say what I wanted to, because it hurt too much.

Instead, child-me held out a dimpled hand and placed it against his face. Underneath her hand, and passed the unusual feeling of stubble- truly a foreign feeling considering none of the men in my family had this- she felt his jaws clench for what was to come…

I love you too. And at least I have my dreams…

I let go then, and let my hands fall lifelessly.

He smiled. I didn't know why he bothered. It was a smile wrought with pain. "Every time I want to see or talk to you, or get the need to want to go hunting with you… I do that and you're there."

She eyed him sceptically, "I am?"

"Yup."

"And momma?"

He grinned. "Yeah. Sometimes Bella too."

She laid my head back down, listening to the sweet, steady cadence of his heart. It was a comforting sound. Something I knew I'd miss so much, it was going to hurt. I swallowed back the painful lump. "What am I doing?"

"Well," he began, sounding indulgent again. She had to smile at that. "…last week I saw you arm wrestling with Emmett, and you beat him."

She whipped her head back up to look at him, completely in awe. "That happened last week!" She shrieked in wonder.

"Told you it works. Try it when I'm not around." He smiled, sounding a little smug.

She frowned. "I'll feel stupid doing it…"

He jostled her in his arms. "Just humour me and try?"

"Fine."

"Good."

Once more they fell into a comfortable silence. The layers of snow outside were now four inches thick and they observed, half amused, as her uncles began pelting snow balls at eachother with impeccable speed.

"What if I do it wrong?" she asked apprehensively.

"Just concentrate, and you'll see me." Jake whispered into her ear. His hot breath tickled my skin and I couldn't help giggling.

"But Jake, that's hardly accurate directives. What if I inadvertently stalk someone else?"

"That'd be interesting. Let me know if it actually happens."

"Jake!" I whined, trying to get him to answer me seriously. He laughed and I relished the sound of the low rumble in his chest. "What if I do it wrong?"

"Impossible for you, small fry. Just look for me…and I'll be there."


A/N- All We Are- by Matt Nathanson. I fell in love with this song having first heard it on One Tree Hill . But then Pinkp introduced me to this awesomely cute song: Rescue You by Jake Epstein. I heart it and her. She's such a darling. ;D

Gah. Was it confusing?! I tried to do this memory piece in such a way- dare I say it, I don't think anyone's actually tried it. :S I may be wrong though.

I have no doubt, I'm probably making up my own literary techniques, adopting a mixture of first and third person narrative…but I wanted her to observe just as much as I wanted her to relive it, only with an adult perspective now. Thus, for the sake of her sanity, and the readers understanding, I wanted her to catch things she otherwise wouldn't've, had she not have recalled it.

Also, a lot of people may think I'm weird for this next bit, but I gotta say: I imagined Jake's face -throughout all of this- to be somewhat similar to the one Patrick Dempsey makes. (The adooorable sympathy face when Meredith finally cries out her pain for losing her mum and she's hyperventilating in the store cupboard.) Know which ep I'm talking about? I bet you do. I wasn't feel so bad for her, but more so for McDreamy, watching her cry and wanting to cry himself. That's Jake's face when Nessie cries in my mind.

Any who, I know it deviates from the plot slightly, -scratch that, a lot. Buuut in wanting to make this realistic, I wanted her thought processes to also be pragmatic.

As her mind is somewhat different to a normal human girl's, I'd imagine there was a lot in their, flitting about at the same time. Hence, why she gets 'easily distracted.' She inherited that trait from daddy dearest. Lawl.

A quick disclaimer on Nessie's pov on all things Disney, love, googling and anything else remotely/potentially hum. (Sorry Disney lovers. It's all fictitious!)

Google owns Google- not me. Nessie just likes to look stuff up when her parents are otherwise engaged. (ew)

Hello Kitty and Baby Dior are owned by their respective owners. I don't own them. They're simply Nessie's clothing preferences.

Thank you to those following this story. Thank you, Lea! Your encouragement means alot! And a special thanks to reesespuff-minus-the-fluff (great name btw.) I absolutely adored your comment. I was blushing furiously, but thank you so much. This chapter is for you guys. I hope you both like. It's certainly one I enjoyed writing…


Here's a little teaser for next chap, bare in mind it's a draft copy:

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that and just say, don't play dumb, honey-bun. It really doesn't suit you. See, that's something she doesn't appreciate about you. She just assumes she knows it all…"

"You honestly think that's going to work?" he laughed.

"Doesn't hurt to try…" she shrugged, her glinting eyes on fire now.

"Look either kill me, or let me kill you. You're boring me now."


(NB: I just wanted to apologise to those who've been following this story in so far. I've done something really annoying and added a few bits in C1 and C3. The reason being, I've realised my work may've been a little on the intense side for many, and because Jake's not here yet, I get the impression..well, you know. In anycase, I was seriously worried about this and so- on an impulse- the changes are merely me adding a few moments attempting to alleviate a tension filled fic lol. (Trying to add dimension to the nessie character too.) Do not read this next bit if you intend on referring back to read the changes...

In chapter 1- I simply added a convo exchanged between nessie and two of her colleagues. My fave show was the inspiration. In Chap 3 I make her fall off of the sofa in her half-comatose state Jasper left her in. That, and she moans like an old lady about the birds outside. Later, she makes snide comments about her appearence in the mirror. They're very unimportant things, but I enjoyed making myself laugh nonetheless.)