chapter v
-
It's raining on the highway to Forks. The windshield wipers are having trouble again, and the road is barely visible under the thick layer of raindrops rolling down the windshield. Up ahead, Edward can make out the refracted red light of taillights, speeding down the waterlogged highway ahead of them. The familiar urge to give chase tugs at his feet.
"We should pull over," Jacob says.
Edward squints out the window, though he can't see past all the rain, the rivulets of water blown horizontal. "It'll be fine," he says.
"Edward. Remember what happened last time you tried to drive with the windshield wipers broken? People nearly died. Pull over."
Much as he wants to keep going, he can hear Jacob's temper beginning to fray in his head, and he doesn't want another fight. Not now, and not again. He cranks the steering wheel to the right.
The Volvo hits the gravel shoulder of the road with a bump, wheels grinding on the tiny rocks, and lurches to a full stop. The whole car is deteriorating. He knows this, that every time he pushes the engine a little too fast it warps a little too much from the friction, that the windshield wipers and the dashboard is coming close to melting completely. For now, the car is silence.
In the absence of movement, the raindrops are unnaturally amplified. Jacob flips a page in his magazine.
"We need to get to Forks," Edward says after a moment.
Jacob flips another page. "We'll get there."
Edward sighs. His fingers pick out a beat on the steering wheel. He waits a little longer.
"We need to get to Forks as soon as possible," he says again.
"And I said we'll get there," Jacob replies calmly, hands paused on his magazine. He's looking directly at Edward. "Calm the fuck down."
"Jacob," Edward stresses, grinding his teeth together, "This could be the end of all this, everything we've been working for, and you want me to calm down."
Jacob gives him a long, considering look with eyes blackened by the night, then shakes his head and looks back down at his magazine. It's on a centerfold of an old Chevrolet Impala right now, dark and intimidating. Light rolls across the glossy pages when another car drives past them.
"Last night," Jacob begins, voice carefully neutral. "I heard you. You said you couldn't do this."
It's the truth. It catches Edward completely off-guard, because while he is used to being inside people's minds, it's rare that they come into his, that they know his moments of weakness and his secrets. The truth is something that Edward can't deny, no matter how much he wants to. There isn't anything he can say.
Jacob's eyes search his face, and then he nods, and looks back down at his magazine. Turns to a new page.
"I wish you would stop lying to me," he says, closing his magazine and shoving it into the glove compartment. "It's clearing up a bit, we can probably head out again."
Silently, Edward puts the car into first, and pulls back onto the rain-drenched highway.
-
They go back to Forks, to the old house, and Edward feels a wash of relief when he cuts the engine in the familiar driveway and sees Alice leaning on the porch railing, smiling.
The forest around the house is heavy with greenery, ancient trees brushing the underbelly of the clouds, and Edward breathes in the scent of decay and plant growth with something like relief.
"Glad to be back?" Jacob says, almost conversationally.
"Yeah."
There's a flicker, a moment of understanding reached between them, but just as suddenly as it had appeared, Jacob ends it, opening up his car door and cracking his neck. Edward follows him out of the car.
"Edward," Alice calls. She sounds calm, but there's an undercurrent of joy in her voice, like a child's. Sometimes it's hard to remember she's ancient and brittle, sometimes, when she looks this happy. "You came home."
He can't help it, he walks faster and when she hugs him, he pulls her close, closing his eyes for a moment. Her arms are almost warm around his neck.
"Oh, Edward," she says. "I was so worried."
"I missed you," he replies.
Pulling back, she studies him, cupping the side of his face with her tiny hand. "We all missed you, too," she says. "Everybody else is inside."
Jacob comes ambling up the drive, hands in his pockets, looking up the front of the house with detached curiosity. "Hello, Alice," he says.
She regards him, eyes guarded. "Hello, Jacob. Esme's invited you to stay with us for as long as you need to."
"That won't be necessary," Jacob replies.
Edward shoots him a look, but Jacob looks away, studying the forest, and when Edward tries to crack into his thoughts he just gets flashes of wolves, of cloying, bittersweet memories, and he stops trying to read Jacob's thoughts.
Alice is watching both of them when he looks back at her, and she just shakes her head. Her eyes are still unreadable. "It's no trouble, Jacob," she says, voice oddly gentle. "We'd be happy to have a friend of Edward's at the house."
A slight wind rustles the tops of the cedars. Even from a distance, Edward can hear Jacob's teeth clench, see his jaw flex and hands form fists in the pockets of his sweater.
"We're not friends," he says flatly. "We're just fucking."
To her credit, Alice doesn't even blink. She knows this, of course. She knew if before anything even happened.
"You're still welcome to stay here," she says, meeting his gaze and holding it.
A crow flies overhead. Edward watches it flap, a black silhouette against the sullen clouds, until it drops behind the trees and out of sight. Alice is small and resolute beside him, still holding his hands.
Jacob is the one who looks away first, dropping his gaze. "All right," he says. "I'll stay."
Alice smiles, briefly, but it cracks the emotionless mask of her face. "Good," she says. "Esme will be pleased."
Again, Edward tries to catch Jacob's eyes, but Jacob doesn't look back, just trails after them when Alice tugs on Edward's hand and pulls him inside the house.
It's the same as always—nothing changes when you live long enough—and Esme is frying something on the stove nobody uses. She beams when she sees Edward, hurries towards him and pulls him into a hug. Her hands smell like flour and her hair like vanilla.
"Oh, honey," she says. "I'm so glad you're home."
Edward returns the hug, feeling slightly displaced without the road underneath him, but he's already relaxing back into being home. "Hi, Esme," he says.
She sees Jacob lurking behind him and, to everybody's surprise, goes to him and envelops him in a hug. "You must be Jacob. It's so nice to finally meet you, I've been hearing about you for ages. Do you like stir-fry? I can make you something else if you don't."
Looking bewildered, Jacob pats her awkwardly on the back, even managing to give her a smile when she releases him. "Stir-fry sounds good," he says, finally looking at Edward. eyebrows raised. Edward just smiles at him.
Humming, Esme goes back into the kitchen, shaking the frying pan on the stove. Edward hasn't remembered how pleasant it is to come home and smell food, even if he can't eat it.
Jasper, followed by Emmett, lingers by the door for a moment before coming into the room. Emmett enfolds Edward in a bear hug and says, "Hey, man, where've you been?"
"Across the country," Edward replies, feeling his bones creak under the pressure of Emmett's embrace. "How are you doing?"
Emmett releases him, grinning. "Not too bad at all. You should've seen it, Edward, I took down a moose in Northern Canada, it was so much more difficult then fighting a cougar."
"You would know," Alice quips, and they both snicker.
Alice catches Edward's puzzled look and says, "I'll tell you later, Edward, it's actually a pretty funny story."
Coming in last, Rosalie merely nods at him, and then glares at Jacob, who is looming in the doorway.
"What's the dog doing here?" she sneers, looking him up and down with distaste.
They look at each other, and Alice lifts her chin. "I invited him," she replies. "He's a friend of Edward's and he's helping us find Bella. That's reason enough."
"Stinking dog," Rosalie mutters, turning on her heel and walking out of the huge, echoing front hall.
Esme clears her throat, and smiles warmly at Jacob. "It's a pleasure to have you here, Jacob," she said. "Can I get you anything to drink?"
"No, thanks," he says tightly, and the main hall again falls into silence, despite all the people inside, leaning on the counters. Edward can see dust motes floating by the windows, highlighted by the faint grey light.
His nails bite into his palms, and he relaxes his hands, forces his face into silence. "I'll see you all later, all right? Come on, Jacob," he says. "I'll show you your room."
-
Late at night, they end up fucking on the couch, since there is no bed, Jacob's hands biting into Edward's hips, breath hot and sharp on the back of his neck. Edward leans into it, eyes closed, and feels Jacob mouth 'love you' against the back of his neck when he comes.
-
"The Volturi are in Seattle," Alice says. She lets her hand rest on the glossy wooden frame of the grand piano, the one Edward is currently tuning up.
He carefully extracts himself from underneath the cover of piano. He can still hear the off-key reverberations of middle C echoing into the air, vibrating away into nothing, still slightly too sharp. "The Volturi are still chasing her down?" he asks. "Don't they have better things to do?"
"One of their own was killed," she says, and Edward meets her eyes, sees how dark they are. "I know about that, by the way. I saw Jacob kill him."
There doesn't seem to be a point in denying it, so Edward just shrugs and plunks out a few discordant cords on the piano, fingers trailing over the dusty ivory keys. "I couldn't stop him without hurting him," he says.
"Do you love him?"
Edward hits a high E, then stops playing. "Not enough. Not as much as he deserves."
"Edward…" Alice says, sighing, then stops. "He's just a boy. He can't even buy alcohol legally yet."
"You don't know him."
I know you. You've got all of us, and Jacob has nobody anymore." Alice glares at the side of his head, fingers tightening on the edge of the piano. The cracking of wood is audible in the empty room. "It's not right, Edward, he's alone and he's dependent on you now, and I know what you're planning to do."
"Don't you ever get tired of seeing the future?" Edward snaps.
She pins him beneath her black glare. "Only when you hurt people."
"I never wanted to hurt anybody. Damn it, Alice! I don't want to be responsible for everybody's happiness!" Edward's voice started to rise, echoing off the two-story glass windows, overlooking the darkness of the forest. Muscles across his shoulders tense, drawing him closer into himself, fingers accidentally jamming down on the piano keys to add another discordant note to the scene. "Do you know what it was like with Bella? I gave her everything she'd ever wanted. I gave her all of me. And look what happened to her."
Alice's black eyes are burning with anger, in a way that Edward has never seen before, and part of the piano comes clean off in her hands. "Edward. You fucked up with Bella, all right? You fucked up with her from the start. I didn't say anything because I was glad that you were happy, believe me, but you controlled every single fucking thing she did! Don't say you gave her everything, because all you ever did to her was take."
It's like being slapped in the face. Edward takes a step back, bare feet on the cold floor, and feels his chest seize up. "I didn't," he says, barely more than a whisper. "I loved her."
"And obviously that wasn't enough." Looking down at her hands, Alice brushes off the splinters, letting them fall to the floor like they're only bits of wood. Her voice, too, is softer now, the anger there burnt out for lack of fuel. "Look at your life, Edward. You're not the victim here."
With that, she turns and walks away, leaving Edward speechless by the ruined piano.
-
Jacob is sprawled on the couch in Edward's room, an old book propped on his chest and a slight scowl on his face. He barely looks up when Edward comes into the room, just shakes the book like it'll rearrange the words, and says to him, "Man, I don't know how you can read this, it's like it's not even English."
"That's because it's not," Edward says absently. "That one's in French, I think."
"Oh. That explains why I'm not understanding it."
Jacob curls his legs in a bit, and Edward sits down at the opposite end of the couch, staring into space. He feels strangely empty, ears still buzzing, and barely notices when Jacob prods him with a foot.
"You're ruining my lounging, asshole."
"Sorry."
Jacob frowns at him, but continues, "Do you have any normal books, or just the twenty copies of the Bible that I found lying around? Because nobody should have that many copies of the Bible unless they're like, Charles Mason or someone, I don't know…"
"You heard Alice and I, didn't you," Edward says abruptly.
The foot jammed into his side stills, and then he hears Jacob sigh and sit up further, dropping the book on the ground. "Yeah, I did. Wolf senses and all."
Edward keeps looking down, staring at his pale hands and rubbing at the unmarked skin. No scars or wrinkles; nothing to show he could be human, that he had once lived and breathed. "I thought you'd be pissed," he says. "You don't like it when I screw up."
Jacob just shrugs. "Why do you think I was always so worried about Bella back in the day? Remember that one time you dismantled her truck so she couldn't come visit me? It doesn't exactly scream healthy relationship, you know."
"No, it doesn't," Edward says softly. "It's just…I was in love with her. I know I was. I thought what I was doing was the best thing for her. For us." He looks down at his hands again, the unbreakable exoskeleton. "Or maybe just for me."
Sighing, Jacob sits up and reaches out, wrapping an arm around Edward's shoulder and pulling him closer. "Love screws you up, man," he says, but there's no judgment in his tone, which is why Edward leans into his chest and breathes out, letting himself go limp against Jacob's arms. "It hit you and Bella hard, and I think you just crossed the line between love and obsession, you know? But you'll change and grow from it. And stuff. Fuck, I don't know."
That coaxes a hoarse laugh out of Edward, and he pulls Jacob's hand towards his, lacing their fingers together and turning their palms over. Small scars and imperfections dot the dark skin, and Edward realizes he can't even remember what he looked like as a human.
Jacob flips their hands back over, hiding his own, and tightens his fingers around Edward's palm. "Edward?" he asks. "Stop being so quiet, it's freaking me out."
Edward doesn't reply, not at first, just listens to the quiet pump of Jacob's heart, the sounds of his family in other parts of the big empty house.
The room smells stale, like nobody has lived in it for a very long time. He can see where Jacob went through his CDs and put them away in the wrong places, where the dust has been shifted. And he thinks that maybe, for once, he shouldn't make Jacob fight for everything.
"I don't think I have a soul," he admits. "That's why I have all the Bibles, because I keep hoping that something will be different in a new one, but…I'll always be the same age. I'll always look the same. And I wonder if I'll even be able to change myself, because nothing else about me ever will."
For a few moments, Jacob is silent, but Edward can feel his ribs rise as he inhales.
"Edward," he says carefully. "For someone with so many books, you're kind of stupid."
Edward snorts, surprised.
"Of course you have a soul. You can think, although sometimes I doubt it. You have feelings. Where does that come from if it's not from your soul, huh?" Jacob raps his knuckles against Edward's head and says affectionately, "You dumbass."
Something prickles under Edward's skin, new and unexpected. He lets it slip away, dissipate into the colourless air, and feels Jacob's pulse through his frail human skin.
"I'm glad it's you, Jacob," he says, voice quiet as the room itself, simply moving through the two of them on the way into the shadows of memory. "Out of anybody else in the world. I'm glad it's you."
Jacob's arms tighten around Edward for a brief instant, but he has no words to share, not even in his mind. They silently sit together for a few more minutes.
Then Jacob speaks up, shifting his legs until both of them are comfortable on the leather couch, and asks, "Are we going to Seattle in the morning?"
Edward thinks of the open road, the roar of the car on the highway, and says, "Yes."
-
The dawn breaks gloomy and wet, rain pervasively working its way through the doors and windows and leaving the atmosphere sticky and damp. Carlisle is in the hospital, working, but Esme brings Edward a cooler full of blood and makes Jacob waffles for breakfast, which he devours with alarming speed.
Edward goes out to the car with blood cooler, trying to ignore how Jasper is leaning on the doorway, watching him. The cooler barely fits in the trunk of the Volvo, and for a moment Edward wonders what would happen if they got pulled over and the cops wanted to check in the back.
He shakes his head and slams the truck shut, walking towards the house, where Jasper is still waiting, studying him.
"Alice is worried about you," Jasper says, scarred face impassive.
"She was angry at me yesterday," says Edward shortly, walking by him and into the living room, and wishing he hadn't when Jasper follows him.
Jasper keeps talking. "It doesn't mean she's not worried about you. Edward," he says, voice impatient, "She didn't tell me. I managed to figure it out for myself."
Edward looks out the window, studying the pattern of raindrops rolling down the glass.
"For God's sake, just look at me," Jasper snaps.
Unwillingly, Edward does. Jasper's eyes are a faded gold, which probably meant he and Emmett had been off hunting a few days before, but they're bright with irritation. "Everything has become a lot tenser since you ran off with the werewolf, including my relationship with Alice, because all she can do is worry about whether you jumped the gun yet." he snaps, and catching Edward's expression, adds, "Yes, I know about you and the werewolf too. Did you forget you're not the only one with powers?"
Even in anger, Jasper is calm and precise, but his thoughts radiate from him, hazy and red, like heat from a fire. Edward feels the gaping edge of panic yawn out in front of him.
Jasper breathes out sharply. No doubt he is reading Edward's emotions, just like Edward is reading his thoughts.
"I didn't tell anybody else, if that's what you were wondering," he says. "Though it's amazing nobody else realizes, the way you two act. I thought you were in love with Bella."
"I was," Edward says. Jasper is still looking at him, eyes and mind accusing, so he adds, "So was Jacob."
"That's not exactly an explanation, Edward."
The door is still open; it creaks in a breeze, open further, and Edward sees the car in the driveway, ready to go. "No, it's not," he agrees. "It's the reason this is happening, though."
He looks at Jasper for a moment, and feels a rush of almost painful affection for him, for the fact that they've been brothers. How they've been across the country and back, all those years from high school to university to jobs and then repeating the cycle again, all these things about his family that he's nearly forgotten in the fog of grief after Bella.
"I'm sorry that I've hurt Alice," Edward says. "And I'm sorry that I've hurt you. When I get back from Seattle, I'll try to make it right."
Jasper tilts his head, considering him. His eyes soften. "I'll take you up on that," he says eventually. "Come here, you idiot."
They embrace, briefly, and then Jasper touches Edward's chest with his hand, eyes closed in concentration. Calm, like cool water after the burn, seeps through Edward, and Jasper steps back, smiling a bit.
"I'll see you in a few days," Jasper says.
Giving him a half-smile in return, Edward turns and walks out the door, closing it with a gentle click behind him, and feels the rain pearl across his skin.
-
It takes three hours to drive to Seattle, rain swooping down on the windshield, wheels rumbling under the car, like it has been so many times before and so many miles ago. Edward is awake, wide awake. The road reaches up into the sky.
Like so many times before, they go on.
Hey guys, I'm sorry it took so long to update. I was off in a cabin in the middle of the woods, and then when I got back school had started, which is sadly getting in the way of writing time. This should be the second-to-last (or third-to-last, either way) chapter, which is why it's so short, but the last chapter is probably going to be really, really long. So. That's good, I guess?
Thank you all so much for reading this and reviewing! I'll see you next chapter.