(Disclaimer-I had a dream I woke up with Jacob Black. It was hella nice.)

okay, so hey. long time no update, hm?
here it is, and the 36th should be coming soon.
GUESS WHAT!? my computer was just taken away and
is going to be fixed so I can go online without needing to be timed
on my mother's computer. :D it is a blessed thing, truly.
anyway, here you are. read and leave me some nice reviews, pleaseee!

Sorta, Maybe

When I woke, I could see the sun filtering in through a blank, clear wall, seemingly welcoming me from the far west. The sky was a dark blue toward the top of the sky, dimming into a lighter gray and opening into a startling blend of orange and pink. Through blurry eyes I could see that twilight was nearing.

"He isn't here."

I twisted my face around to the right, angling myself so that I could see him. His eyes were locked on his double fists, elbows balancing on his widely spread knees. His upper body was bent down over the lower half, doubling into himself. He looked exhausted, this beautiful russet creature.

"What?" I croaked, confused.

"I said he isn't here."

"Who? That thing that attacked us?" My voice sounded similar to that of an eighty-year-old chain smoker, like one of Marge Simpson's sisters. I tried to clear my throat, but pain lined my mouth.

Jacob snorted, humored. "You could say that. But no; I'm talking about Edward."

"Oh."

We stared at each other for a moment, my eyes blinking groggily as I watched him. I couldn't seem to fit together what he was saying in my head. Why would he be saying that, like I should automatically assume that Edward would be here? I didn't even have a clue where we were to begin with. A glance around the room told me nothing, provided me with no sense of familiarity. The walls were flat white, floor blue linoleum. One entire wall was lined with glass, allowing me to see out into the oncoming night.

Something about the room—the wall, actually, I thought—made my stomach flutter, little moths flapping their wings, but that was it. It meant nothing to me.

He looked at me, expectant. I remained silent, staring back.

"We're in his house, Bella." He told me after a moment. I raised an eyebrow, reassessing my surroundings. Still, they held no sense of acquaintance. "I'm surprised you didn't recognize it. I figured you'd have had the whole entire floor plan memorized by now." I looked away from the sour sound of his voice, staring at the ivory sheets tucked up around my chest.

"What room is this?" I whispered.

"Carlisle's spare…medicine room thing."

I nodded blankly.

Jacob waited only a moment, giving me time to say something before he continued, but I had nothing to add. He sighed. "They all just left; I guess they'll be back sometime, but the Doctor says you were good enough for me to be alone with you." He stopped to chuckle bleakly. "He thought he was doing me a favor."

I bit my lip. His eyelids were drooping. I couldn't figure out how they'd gotten him to stay here in the house to begin with. I wished I could've known what had happened when he brought me here…if he did bring me here. Or had Edward found us in the forest?

Jacob started story-telling before I could ask.

"Edward didn't come to our wedding, either." he said sleepily. I swallowed hard, noticing the purple bags beneath his eyes. How long had it been since he'd slept? "Before Charlie got sick…" he stopped to glance at me, searching my face for a reaction. After a moment, Jacob nodded to himself, obviously aware—from my expression, I guessed—that I knew what he was talking about. He looked back at his hands.

"Well, before he got sick…Edward sent me that invitation—you know, the one to your wedding with him. Its funny how he went on to say all that crap about having a choice, about how if he were in my position he would have wanted to have options. He sure didn't seem to want them when he was in my position. You didn't see him for almost three years, you know that?"

I blinked, wishing I could reach for him. My right arm felt fiery hot, the pain sharp and crooked as it worked its way from my shoulder to my wrist.

"Alice sent us a present for the engagement and all, unlike him. I think she would have gone to the ceremony if he couldn't read her mind. I guess she didn't want him to have to see it all when she got home, to give him another reason for wanting to commit suicide." Jacob shook his head, making a face. "That guy is seriously such a whiner. He's always threatening to kill himself. Carlisle should think about putting him on some freaking anti-depressants.…He went to the funeral, though." The words were quiet and subdued now, an attempt to block out the pain it caused him. His eyelashes were wet, I noticed with a pang. I closed my eyes, reluctant to see his face now that the pain was creeping through.

Quietly clearing his throat, he continued. "I wish you could have seen him book it out of there when he saw Junior. I was just sitting there in the front row, Junior in my arms, and then there he was. He came across to place the freesia on your casket…then he saw Junior. I've never seen him run that fast…" He drifted off there, sounding a little bit dazed. I peeked at him with one eye, taking in the fact that his eyes, too, had closed, his head dipping to the side a bit.

"Jake," I whispered, lifting my left arm to reach for him. I couldn't get it to cross over my chest without feeling like I would snap in half, though, and I let it sink back down onto the bed. My right arm, though closer to him, was also useless. "Jake, you need to sleep."

His eyes opened and he looked at me. I tried to be brave, to stare back without tearing up or looking away. "Don't worry about what I need to do." he told me coldly, pressing his face into his arm to yawn.

I nodded, wrenching my eyes from him to stare at the wall.

"Do you know who it was that attacked us?" I murmured.

Jacob snorted. "Oh, yeah Bells. We pieced him back together and asked him about it while you were sleeping." He rolled his eyes. "No."

Again, I nodded.

"Your arm is pretty screwed up," He informed me, looking at it suddenly. I glanced at it too, seeing the dark blue and black pattern on it for the first time. "Your ribs are okay, though. Bruised only." I nodded once more, having figured as much. I could feel the injuries quite clearly.

"How about you?" I inquired softly.

His eyes narrowed on my hand, irritated. "My rib is shattered—was shattered, I guess. It's probably almost done healing now, or at least halfway done. That's why I'm still here. I wasn't allowed to leave until Carlisle said so. Like someone made him God or something. And no, it doesn't hurt." I blinked as he added that, shocked that he knew I would ask.

"Why did you stay, then, if you have no desire to hear what Carlisle—a professional—has to say? Why didn't you just leave if you're such a rebel?"

"Why didn't you just spare me the drama and stay here with your bloodsucker when you came back?" Jacob retorted, raising an eyebrow antagonistically.

With no real answer, I avoided the question, too angry to defend my emotions anyway. "Why don't you just leave, Jake?" I snapped, voice arctic cold.

Jake's eyes widened fractionally, but other than that, he barely looked surprised. "Is that a dare? What, you don't think I will? Believe me, Bells, I could leave this very second without so much as even one little glance back. I don't need to be here. There's nothing of interest for me in this room."

I froze. For one, long moment, I could do nothing but stare at him, pain thick in my chest. Not even when he'd told me he'd prefer me dead so many years ago had his words hurt me so intensely. My left arm itched to curl around my torso, but I made it stay in place, forging anger rather than pain with my words. I would not give him the satisfaction of seeing me hurt.

"Then just do it. If you hate me so much, just leave."

"Is that what you want, Bella?" He challenged, leaning forward with intense, narrowed eyes.

"And you care what I want because? I'm poison, right?"

Jacob snorted, standing up from the wooden chair. "'Kay then. I'll see you…well, to be perfectly honest, I hope I don't." He shrugged one shoulder, looking at me bleakly. "Poison," He repeated nonchalantly.

"Oh." I breathed, unable to say anything else. My eyes stung.

"Oh, and uh, if you need to call someone or whatever, your cell phone is to your left, on the table. But be smart and call someone other than me, especially if you're expecting an answer."

"Jacob,"

The russet man in front of me jumped at the sound of Carlisle's greeting, spinning around to face him. Jake's cheeks were redder than usual, like maybe he was blushing, embarrassed to be caught using such a brutal tone. My chest felt empty of everything, my mouth free of breath.

"I was just leaving," Jacob started to explain, his voice unusually hard as he spoke to the beautiful blonde man. He normally held at least a pinch of respect in his tone when talking to Carlisle, but this time, all I could find in his words was a violent form of hatred.

I stared at them both, unable to move, unable to think, unable to even smile politely in response when Carlisle grinned at me.

"What do you mean?" He asked Jacob. I noticed that his voice was also a little hard, or at least for him. It wasn't impolite or cruel, just passive. My eyebrows linked.

"I'm leaving." Jacob said sharply. "Thank you for the treatment and for letting me stay here." The last line sounded a little sarcastic, but Carlisle didn't seem to catch on, or he just simply ignored it.

Carlisle smiled warmly at Jacob, bowing his head in a sincere gesture. "It's been my pleasure. I know the two of you have had your fair share of hospitals. But Jacob, really, I don't think that your injuries have healed quite yet. Why don't you stay a bit longer?"

"No thanks," Jacob muttered, stepping toward the door.

"Jacob, please." Carlisle pushed, voice a little sterner. As Jacob shook his head, reaching for the doorknob, Carlisle's eyes narrowed. "I don't want to have to get Jasper and Emmett up here, Jacob. Sit down."

Jacob froze in the doorway, staring at him wordlessly with his mouth hanging open in astonishment. I blinked.

"Now, how are you feeling, Bella?" Carlisle asked me, turning around, his voice abruptly warm again.

I snorted, shocked, and managed to smile at him. He winked at me, pointing Jacob in the direction of the chair by my bed. With Jacob dumbfounded, silent, and seated, Carlisle nodded in approval, exiting the room.

"I suppose you're not going to tell me what the heck is going on here?" I accused once we were alone.

"What're you talking about?" Jacob spat, glaring. It was obvious that he was angry he'd had to stay here with me.

I sighed. "I thought you liked Carlisle."

"I've never liked any of them."

"You know what I mean."

"Maybe I didn't mind him. That is, before his son killed my friend."

I gaped at him, a gasp escaping my mouth. "What are you talking about?"

Jacob chuckled darkly. "I'm talking about his son killing my friend, Bella."

He stared at me, waiting for more questions, but I just continued to stare at him, a horrified expression on my face. "Maybe twenty years ago, Jasper had his stupid friend Charlotte come up with her beau. They came on our land, Paul got pissed and attacked them—didn't do any damage, just scared them a bit. Jasper killed him while your filthy fucking Edward held me down. They killed him."

"No," I whispered, unable to believe.

Jacob gritted his teeth, eyes deadly. "Yes, Bells. They killed Paul, and then they killed Seth, too."

"Seth?" I couldn't breathe. "No, no."

Jacob chortled darkly, a vindictive glint to his eyes. "Your bloodsuckers are not as angelic as you think they are. You've always been stupid to trust them." Suddenly, as though just coming upon an idea, he stopped speaking, looking at my face with an odd expression. I stared back with a horrified, critical eye, trying to pick apart the varying emotions there on the red-brown canvas. Humor, fury, confusion…what else?

"You know what doesn't make any sense to me at all?" He asked me, shaking his head, eyebrows together. "I married you. I loved you. I gave you a child. I've saved you just as many times as your stupid Edward has, and still you love him more. He tossed you away like trash Bella. He made you into something of a zombie, left you to pick up the remains of the life he took. But I was there to help you. I stayed with you every damn day you needed me, always working to make you happy, always walking on eggshells so that you wouldn't be hurt. I saw what he'd made of you, and I—what?— stuck by you for centuries, giving you a friend to turn to, a safe harbor to run to when you were sad? Is that really so bad?

"I loved you no matter how much you fucking hurt me, always wishing that you would see how much better I was for you. When he left, I provided you with the ingredients you needed to feel like he was with you again—the danger, the adrenaline, the stupidity. Yeah, don't think that I was so oblivious I didn't realize what you were doing Bella. People don't just randomly develop a taste for danger after living a life of loving safety. I knew you were using me, and still I stayed with you. And yes, that was my choice. Yeah, I paved that road for myself, disregarded the hurt it was causing me. But I loved you. I gave you all of me, took nothing in return, and never once set out to hurt you. The most I've done is utter a few fucking regrettable words, avoid you for maybe a week because I actually couldn't be near you. He left you alone to rot. So why the hell do you love him, dammit?"

He plucked a vase from the table beside him, flinging it across the room so it shattered against the plain white wall. I flinched.

"I love you," I breathed, but it didn't make any noise.

"You don't. You fucking don't." He slung a hand over his face, falling against the side of my bed. My face crumpled, lips trembling. "He killed my friends, Bella. He tried to sympathize with me, tried to tell me that they were sorry. Edward said he held me down for my own safety. That he made me watch as his brother killed my friends so I wouldn't get hurt. You know what I think? I think he just didn't want me to hurt his son-of-a-bitch brother. The stupid coward. He's a murderer. A murderer, Bella." He was sobbing.

"Jacob," I lifted my left arm, trying to sit up so I could get to him. Pain rattled my teeth, rocketing through my chest. Through the window-wall I saw a white figure blur by, heading for the trees. Copper hair blew atop his head.

Edward. He'd heard all of it. Every word that I'd tried to avoid, that I'd tried not to speak because I knew that they would hurt him most of all…He'd heard, and now he was leaving. Where would he go?

I gulped.

"Jacob," I said again, a little louder, lifting my torso off the bed. The pain of the action made me flinch, an unintentional moan escaping my lips.

"Stop that, you stupid…stupid…" He gave up on hurtful nouns and adjectives, coming around to press me back onto the bed so I couldn't hurt myself.

"Jacob, I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt you…you know that."

"Fuck you." He growled, ripping away from my grasping hands.

My mouth fell slack, my eyes brimming with tears. A gasp whooshed out of my mouth. He'd never said anything so viciously before.

From where he stood a foot away, I saw his eyes soften, his mouth twitching in reluctant remorse. Then he stepped closer, sighing. "Dammit, Bella. I'm sorry." He groaned quietly in frustration, grabbing my frozen fingers. "You're so annoying, you know that? I can't get you to leave me alone without wanting to kill myself for hurting you."

I chuckled through tears, consumed with guilt, but also seeing the irony in the situation. Normally it would have been me calling him annoying. Still, I should have just left him alone, let him be happy without me. But it seemed as though maybe I would never be able to be that selfless. There would always be a piece of me that longed to get my way, to have Jacob whether it hurt him or not. "I'm prepared to be annoyingly persistent." I said to him, quoting his words from an earlier time. He gawked at me, astonished that I'd remember such a thing.

And then, beautifully, he smiled. "What am I going to do with you?" he said, tears on his face.

"Give me time to make it up to you. Be with me, even if only as friends. Just please don't desert me."

He sighed. "I guess I could give you that." he allowed, sounding a little reluctant. "I really did miss you, Bells. Sorry for acting like a jerk."

"You had reason enough. I'm sorry, too."

"Yeah… I did have reasons. But if you mean it—if you're not going to hop on the next murdering bloodsucker you see—I'll try, Bells. But I'm not making you any guarantees. I'm only holding lightly to the clutch, and I'm not going to jump right back into trusting you. You understand that, right?"

I nodded, understanding completely the motorcycle analogy he threw to me.

As I stared at him, cherishing the sad upward tilt of his lips, the red tone of his skin, the long wiry muscles of his arms, he watched me. His eyes were black and attentive, contracting with the direction of his thoughts. He was absolutely gorgeous.

"What?" He asked when I smiled hugely.

I bit my lip, fighting the lunatic laughter in my mouth. "Did you know, you're sort of beautiful?"

His eyes lit up, beaming. Surely he remembered this, but rather than repeat his line, he stood up from the floor, crossing the space between us, and brushed a hand down over my face. "Did you know you sort of are, too?"

And then he kissed me.