Disclaimer: I do not own twilight or these characters.

Warning: Contains strong language.

Jake felt more than heard her footsteps as she walked away from him; the harsh reality that was so blindingly obvious now struck him deep in the heart as he heard the door close behind her. Jake let his head fall back against the wall and slid down the smooth surface to the floor.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, burying his face in his hands. He suddenly felt cold, alone, and empty. His chest throbbed and ached like something had been ripped from it. The abrupt realization of exactly what that was twisted like a knife in his gut—his heart.

How did he not know she'd always had it?

He felt sick as he processed this new information. His stomach heaved violently, and he cursed himself for being so goddamn blind. Memories of her came rushing back to him as he crawled helplessly across his bedroom floor and flung himself on his bed.

They were just barely six. It was raining, and all Jake wanted to do was be alone. His mom was gone, and everyone kept acting like he didn't understand. That he didn't know what that meant.

But he did. He watched her get sick. He saw the life being drained out of her body as she lay in that damn hospital bed. He held her hand when she whispered her goodbyes in her only son's ear.

Jake had somehow escaped into the old shed out behind their small red house that would later become his garage. He was sitting cross-legged on the ground near the door, watching the rain fall furiously against the earth. He felt like the whole world was crying, falling apart because she was gone. He shut his eyes and tried to will away the tears. They were burning in his eyes, and he felt their sting deep inside.

"Jake?" Bella's soft, girlish voice squeaked behind him as she shuffled her feet awkwardly. He didn't say anything, and she hesitated only briefly before sitting down next to him, wiggling her way underneath his arm, and wrapping both of hers around his skinny middle. It was where she always fit. Perfectly.

He felt a little of the sadness ebb, and he instinctively wrapped his other arm around her so he could hold on to something.

Jake groaned, rubbing his palms over his face roughly. Even then! He remembered that feeling of warmth bubbling up in his gut. He hadn't known what that meant. How could he? He was only six. He just knew she was his Bells. His best friend. His other half. Like peanut butter and jelly or something.

He rolled over onto his stomach, sprawling out across his bed and burying his face in the nearest pillow. She was mine! Goddammit! How did I fuck this up so bad? He grumbled to himself as he felt fresh tears well in his eyes and a sob break from his chest.

And now I'm crying like a little fucking bitch. Fucking perfect.

All he could think about was her now. Memories of them flashed before his eyes like a bad home movie. Holding her hand, punching the lights out of that fucking idiot in ninth grade for messing with her, how he was secretly happy when Edward broke up with her—he was never good enough for her, and he didn't like sharing. He tried to think of something else, anything else, but she was everywhere. He could still feel her silky skin beneath his hands—fuck, she was so soft and wet and responsive...and goddamn perfect.

The ringing of Jake's cell phone in his pocket brought him out of his pity party and self-loathing. He dug into his jeans and pulled it out, flipping it open without moving his face from the pillow and raising it to his ear. He just barely turned his head, so his words wouldn't be muffled by the pillow.

"What?" he answered.

"Well, hello to you, too, sunshine," an obnoxious female voice answered. It was Leah. Sam's fiancé. Fuck, what now?

"Leah," Jake groaned. "I'm really not in the mood. What do you want?"

"Well, I was getting out of my car up at the shop, and I saw Bella," Leah began. "And she looked like a fucking train wreck. What the hell happened?"

Jake groaned. The image of Bella's tear-streaked face—that he'd caused—the depth of emotion and heartbreak he saw there was burned into his retinas, and just the mention of it made him sick.

"I don't know, Leah. I don't fucking know!" he bemoaned, and she gave an annoyed sigh. Fuck if she didn't have to always be the one straightening out these goddamn messes.

"I'll be there in a minute," she sighed again.

"Bring some fucking alcohol," Jake begged, snapping the phone shut angrily.

~000~

Four hours later, Jake was nursing another bottle of beer, sprawled out on his leather sofa with Leah sitting across from him in the recliner.

"Well, you've really made a mess of everything, haven't you?" Leah questioned, rolling her eyes at his obvious stupidity. Jake looked at her out of the corner of his eye while bringing the bottle back to his lips.

"So you knew?" he asked. Did everyone fucking know? Embry? Quil?

"Well, yeah, Jake. I'm surprised you're just now figuring all this out. How could you think you and her were ever 'just friends'?"

"Fuck. I don't know, Leah." Jake ran a hand through his hair and huffed a frustrated sigh. ''It's just—" He paused as he struggled for the right words,"—I mean, I always knew she was 'my Bells'..." Jake put his fist against his heart and leaned forward to punctuate his words. "...I always felt that...that... she belonged to me...but..."

Jake exhaled a long breath he didn't know he was holding and felt like his whole world was crumbling, falling apart. Just like that day in the rain sitting in the shed.

Had I really been holding onto her all these years? Without making her mine?

"Jake, I get it. You didn't want to lose her. You didn't want to get hurt... Trust me, I've been there. But did you really think that was fair for her? To always have to share you with god knows how many women?" Leah paused; she could see that Jake was in a fragile state, but she was never one for subtly, so she just continued, "If you don't fix this now, you'll lose her for good."

Leah stood up and grabbed her purse.

"I gotta go, Jake. We're having dinner with the family," she stated and then made her way to the door.

"Leah? Could you..." he trailed off, silently asking her a favor with his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah. I'll check on her," she promised, adding, "And Jake? Bella is like a little sister to me; she's my fiancé's sister, and if you fuck this up—worse than you already have—I'll let Sam kill you. I don't care if I'm best friends with your sister. Rachel will understand."

And with that, she left Jake alone with his jumbled up feelings and only memories of Bella to keep him company. He couldn't take it: the silence, the loneliness, his inner voice screaming what a failure he was. He was suffocating beneath it. He couldn't take another second, and so he grabbed his jacket, his phone, and his keys and went to find something to take this feeling away, because the alcohol wasn't working.

But he knew what would.

~000~

Bella was a wreck. After crying and babbling incoherently to Leah, Bella managed to drive herself home. She escaped to her room, thankful no one else was home. It was times like this she wished she had her own place. She felt emotionally drained, physically exhausted. And lost. Utterly lost.

She tossed her stuff onto the old desk in her room by the door and threw herself face down on her bed. Even though it had been a while since he was last here in her room, she could still smell his lingering scent on her pillow.

"Goddammit!" she screamed into her pillow, punching the mattress beside her head. Part of her wished she could take it all back. That she never would have kissed him that night. Or told him she loved him. Fuck, why had I done that? Now I've lost him completely.

Her stomach violently protested that thought, and she had to run down the hall to the bathroom to keep from empty her stomach before she could reach the toilet.

But she couldn't share him any longer. She had always been his-was it too much to ask for him to be mine? To belong only to me?

She felt her phone vibrating in her back pocket, but she didn't check it.

It was well past dark when Bella heard a knock at her door. But she didn't move; she stayed in the same position she had been in for hours since coming back from the bathroom: face down in the pillows, Jake's old tee-shirt she'd found under her bed clutched in her hand. She hadn't even gone down for dinner. Charlie, her dad, had come up once, and so had Sam, to try and coax her to come eat something. But her whole system rejected the thought of anything but Jake's touch, or voice, or lips giving her substance.

She heard the door squeak open and the bed dip down, a warm hand pressed to her back.

A/N: Thanks to my beta, jkane180, she's awesome. And thanks to wordslinger and kissa_621 for pre-reading, you girls rock.

And thank you 1lilabut for making such an amazing trailer for this fic. If you haven't seen it check it out here: .com/watch?v=hL_b8-GeiBg