It's a big, big plot point! Thank you to the reviewers and readers! Enjoy!

Two days after I started school on the rez, I woke up, and there was astillness all around. Cars were moving sluggishly. People were talking quietly. Even the rain was coming down slower than usual.

It was weird that this was happening on this particular day. Today was the sixteenth anniversary of the most important day of my life.

Was the stillness of the place I had almost grown up in a symbol of some sort? Everything just felt weird. Maybe today would once again be the day my parents find me, and this was a warning. The irony of that situation would be too much to bear.

I went over to the Uley house first to see if they saw the peculiarity in today.

On the jog there, I passed the tribe's meeting place. The flag was set at half-mast. I panic a little and quicken my pace. Who died?

It hits me like a ton of bricks. I am stupid. I know who died today. It was the only knowledge of my life before the Cullens that I do know.

I can't remember the day, of course, but the recreations in my head are vivid. When I was young and got the nightmares, today would be the worst day for them. I would go to bed knowing what the next day meant and wake up covered in sweat, if I even made it through the night. Until I was a certain age, I would almost certainly spend that night lying in bed with my very awake parents. The fact that I had been involved in such a horrific event was terrifying for me.

Today was the day a boy lost his parents. But I had only thought of it as the day a boy gained a family.

Knowing what I know now, I realize that my parents were more than my parents. They were friends, family, and neighbors to a number of people I had never thought about.

Their loss affected this tiny little reservation. Even after so much time, it is still quiet and still with sadness.

My parents must have been important.

Of course, they were important to me. I never didn't acknowledge that I owe my creation to those two people. But if their loss still held this impression over the rez after so much time, they weren't just two patches in the fabric of La Push. They stood out. People really knew them.

Sam and the elders he talked to but who barely communicated with me's current theory was that I was a very distant descendent of one of the last pack's wolves. My close proximity to the vampires must have awakened a gene that would have otherwise remained dormant.

I'm jogging far faster than I should be, but this overwhelming realization has pushed out reason.

I have been wondering and trying to picture what my mom and dad looked like my entire life. I tried to draw them. I knew it hurt my mom when I talked so much about them, but there was just this hole in me that came from knowing absolutely nothing about the people I came from, about the people who I had watched die before I knew what death and fire and ashes meant.

I always thought I was one of those boys who looked just like their dad. Also, I couldn't picture my mother as anything less than beautiful. She was kind and always smiled in my thoughts and on the nights I dreamt about them. I remembered those dreams, of two people with the same russet skin simply smiling at me.

Today would be the day I finally found out who my parents were. I would know their names, the name they gave me, what they were like.

When I was finally at the Uley house, I completely rocketed into the house. Emily and Sam and Paul were there and were giving me looks as if I had gone crazy.

"Jacob?" Sam asked.

"I figured it out. I know who my parents are. It's been so simple."

"Who?" Paul asked.

"I don't know their names," I said, "But I'm not far from figuring it out. I just need to know. They died today. That's why the town is so quiet and still. People remember them."

"They're your parents?" Sam asked, completely dumbfounded.

I nod. "Today's the day my mom found me by their burning car."

"Jacob, you don't realize what this means."

"What are you talking about?"

"This means you're a direct descendent of Ephriam Black, the last Alpha and the last chief of the tribe. You were born to lead the pack."

Now I am lost. "Excuse me?"

"It's in your blood. In our legends, when a chief dies, his son always takes the spot."

"But you're the Alpha. First come, first serve."

"Only because no one was there to claim it."

"I'm not claiming it. I don't want it. I don't know how to lead a pack."

Sam looked to Emily. She was an expert on the legends. "Can he refuse it?"

She thought for a while. "I don't think this revelation would trigger the Alpha gene. It's always been in him. Maybe there is a choice."

Sam looked at me and then at his hands which he was nervously wringing. Then he looked back at me. "Alright. But the offer is always open to you."

"I'll keep that in mind," I said sarcastically.

"Okay, then," Emily said. There was a long pause.

"Do you know their names?" I asked.

Sam shook his head. "The last name is Black, but I don't know their first names. I just know his position in the tribe. Harry Clearwater knew him very well. He was his good friend. You should talk to him."

I did. Sam made the call. I had never met him face-to-face. I had only been to two meetings. One he didn't go to because his daughter was angry with him. The other he was sick.

He is one of the highest elders on the council along with his wife and ancient man who was the great-grandfather of Embry's friend, Quil.

Paul came with me. He claimed it was for "moral support," but I knew he had an English test on a book he didn't know the name of.

"Jacob Black," Paul said out loud. He had been trying out the name to see how it sounded. I thought it sounded simple and common. Like a John Doe or Michael Smith. It was a name my uncle would put down on one of his documents if he wanted to be easily forgotten in the minds of the people he met.

We were waiting for Harry to meet us at a diner. Sam told us not to go to his house because of the flack Leah gives him when pack members show up there.

"Do you think if you became Alpha, we could call us the Black Pack? Or Black Attack?" Paul asked.

"I'm not becoming Alpha," I grumbled. The idea was repulsive. I barely knew anyone in the tribe and had no leadership abilities.

"Come on, you don't even want to be it a little bit?"

"No," I said flatly.

"I bet Bella would like it. Chicks dig Alphas."

"Shut up, Paul. And Bella likes her guys dead."

Paul guffawed. It wasn't a joke. It was true.

"Wonder what your real first name is. Hughie?"

"Shut up."

"Right, you look more like a Percy."

"I said stuff it, Paul."

"Whatever you say, Waldo," he said and he smiled at me, just begging for his teeth to be knocked out. I allowed myself a growl and stayed calm.

"You're about to find out who your late parents were. You might start to sob with the ghosts of your grief living in your eyes. That's how it goes on Maury."

"I should have called Bella."

"You want her to see you cry?"

I kicked him under the table hard enough to break a bone. He winced, but he finally stopped talking for a minute.

Harry came in the diner. I didn't know what he looked like, but I knew it was him because Paul said, "Here comes Harry Clearwater, carrying the moment Jacob has been waiting for with him. This is a defining moment for Jacob Black!"

Harry stops at our table and glares at Paul. "Why are you saying that name?"

"That's my name," I said and turned to look at him. His eyebrows raised into his hairline and he clutched his heart. He grabbed the back of a chair. Paul and I looked at each other, scared. Then the older man took a deep breath and sat down at our table.

"You're the vampire kid?" he asked, "If Billy knew...a Black living with bloodsuckers." He gives a humorless laugh.

"Sam said you knew my parents. They're the people who died today, right?"

"No doubt about it. You look just like Sarah. She's your mom. Billy's your dad."

Sarah and Billy. I think the names over and over again, pressing them into my mind.

"I can't believe you're alive. We thought your body had been taken by an animal. It's like you're back from the dead and a piece of them is too."

"Woah," I said. I must have a death certificate. People have been mourning me, and I've been here all along.

"Did Sam tell you how important the Black family is to our tribe?"

I nodded, "He told me about the Alpha thing. I'm not going to lead the pack though."

"I'm not sure if it's a choice."

I shrugged. "It's always been in my blood. I don't think anything will change just because I know about it."

"True, true," he said. He focused on a corner of a booth.

"Are you alright?" I asked, "You looked...taken aback before."

He nodded dismally and waved his hand. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, just a lot to absorb."

I nodded. "So you knew them?"

Harry nodded. "Billy was like a brother to me. To Charlie Swan too."

The memory rose to the surface. It was from soon after I came back to Forks from Phoenix, on Bella and Edward's prom night. It felt like another lifetime. I was looking around the Swan house and I saw a picture of a family in a hospital room. A beautiful woman was holding a newborn baby. She was surrounded by her family. I had seen the resemblance between me and them, but I had only thought about it for a little before it was pushed to the back of my mind. That must have been one of our only family photos.

My stomach is queasy, thinking of the two little girls in that photo. "Did I have sisters?"

Harry nodded solemnly."Twins, Rachel and Rebecca. They were barely five."

I felt nauseous and I can't swallow. I didn't even think about the possibility of siblings, ever. My heart ached for the siblings I never knew I had. I was born with two sisters, but I was raised an only child.

I was the only Black left. I had never felt lonelier. Why did my mother, Sarah, save me? I knew the story. She asked my other mom to rescue me. What about her other two children? Something didn't fit.

"What name was I born with?" I asked Harry quietly when I could speak again.

"Jacob," he said slowly.

More facts not going together. "But that's what my Mom named me, my Cullen mom."

Harry stared at me. "Are you sure it's not a-"

I cut him off. I had learned a long time ago. "There are no coincidences."

XxxxxX

Rosalie PoV

I had sobbed without tears for hours this morning. A new emotion joined my worry, pain, grief, guilt, anger, fear, despair...

Failure.

Jacob was blue and freezing in the snow. I had managed to get him to a doctor and save his life. I had given him all the showering of affections he would have never had from a mother and father. I have always done what I thought was best for him. No one could love or appreciate a child more than the woman who had been wanting one for over fifty years.

But he was gone. I couldn't keep one human alive for sixteen years. He was dead. I was a failure as a mother.

If I had just saved him and then given him over to the humans, he would still be alive. It would be the best thing for any child. Vampires were not made to be mothers to humans for a reason I now knew. Why couldn't I be selfless for once and let a child be where he belonged?

I had killed before. But those men were scum. Now an innocent child was on my black list.

"I'm sorry," I sobbed.

I was talking to the dead.

I'm sorry, Jacob. If I had really loved you, I would have let you live a human life.

I'm sorry, Jacob's true parents. I stole your son and I justified it because I thought I could give him a good substitute family. I made promises to you that I would raise him right. Now I've killed him. I ruined the gift that his real mother gave him, his survival.

I'm sorry, Carlisle. You'd never blame me, I know. You always see a nonexistent good in a woman as wicked as I. I have disgraced your mission to protect human life by killing a mere boy.

The guilt is overwhelming. I'm being eaten alive (if that is even what I am) by it. I try to find some ray of hope, but it's hard. Hope is what good people are meant to provide like Carlisle, Esme, my Emmett, my Jacob.

Maybe he isn't dead, a little voice that I nickname Desperate whispers, You can still save him.

I tell the voice that it shouldn't be so stupid. There's no way he can be alive.

But I won't know if I don't try to find him. I need to exhaust everything I have before I give up.

I need a tracker.

Edward. That's what he's doing now, right? He must be somewhat good. He's been gone for so long. We haven't talked to him in a long time. He doesn't know that Jacob is gone.

I picked up my phone and dial his number. I could count the number of times I've called him on two hands. It rang for a long time, but eventually, he picked up. My brother was shocked to be getting this call.

"Rosalie?" he asked.

"Edward, I need your help," I said. I sounded so desperate and hopeless.

"What happened?" he asked.

"Jacob is gone. He's been taken by something awful. You need to find him. Please, Edward, please."

There is a long pause. "I'll be in Ithaca as soon I can, Rose."

"Thank you, thank you," I said. I add, "I love you, Edward." He doesn't hear it enough, and I don't say it enough. I could have said it a million more times to Jacob.

"Uh, love you too," he said awkwardly. He hung up.

My brother is back on our team. The monster who took my baby boy is going to be sorry.

Xxxxxx

Jacob PoV

I was standing in front of their graves. One large one for William and Sarah Black. Two smaller ones for Rachel and Rebecca. An even smaller one with my name, Jacob Ephriam Black written on it.

On mine, it has two dates on it, only about five weeks apart. The guess my mother made for my birthday was spot-on. Another coincidence that seemed too coincidental.

I've never been to one of these graveyards. What are people supposed to do? In movies, I've seen a lot of crying over graves, but I don't feel like crying.

I should be sad, but it's hard. I don't have any memories of these people. I can't miss them because I never got to know them. I could mourn for the life and family I lived without, but I can't bring myself to resent the life I have led without these people. I've had a good life.

It makes me sad that their lives were cut short, especially the girls'. No one deserves that. But I watch the news. This is too common for me to be sobbing over it. Because their deaths feel likes strangers' deaths.

Am I without senses? Seriously, who doesn't cry when they visit their dead family's grave? Is something wrong with me?

Maybe it's because I was raised by killers.

Something stabs my chest. I shouldn't have thought that. Where did that come from? If I didn't believe my family was good, no one did.

Is the wolves' way of thinking distorting me? No, I say firmly to myself. I need to keep my grip on who I am, even when I'm learning more about my past.

I do want someone to talk to. I drained Harry with questions, but that isn't the conversation I am looking for. I need someone who knows me and who knows what this is like.

But where am I going to find someone who could understand this? Who left their family amd realized they were a different species, before finally learning who their family actually was and who they were?

I go through my family members. One seems like a fit. Aunt Alice. She would know what to say after all the research she's been doing on her former life.

But she's in Ithaca. And I'm here, hiding from her and the rest of our family.

I realize that I'm not going to find someone to talk to about this who will relate. Oh well.

I finally find a feeling someone may find normal. I wish I knew these people. I wish I could have met them, known them, loved them. I wish my dad could have taught me how to ride a bike, and I wish that I had sisters to tease. It would have been a polar opposite life from my real one, but it wouldn't have been better or worse. Both of the families were mine and were equal in my mind.

If it wasn't for that car accident, La Push would have always been my home. I would be going to the high-school under my real name. I would have grown up with Embry, Quil, Paul, Bella. The Cullens may have never come here.

Bella would never have known Edward. Maybe she would have loved me in a different, lesser way, but large enough for two people to be happy with for one lifetime.

I shouldn't let myself think about Bella like that. I know she'll never get over him. It's only hurting me to hope she would. And I wouldn't want to be in a love like that, right? Right? I mean, if she let me let myself, I'd love her with everything I've got. I know she'd try to love me that much too. She wouldn't, but she'd try. Why would I allow myself to be okay with that? Is that what love is? That doesn't sound like love, not the kind I was used to hearing about.

Why am I thinking about this anyway? My thoughts need a leash. My muster of grief turned into a question of the meaning of love.

I lie the flowers I bought and put them among the many other pots and arrangements already crowding the headstones.

I try a new method of feeling something for my first family.

"Hi, guys. This is Jacob. I know I've never visited you before. Sorry bout that. I didn't know where to find you. I just found out this morning, actually. Better late than never, right? Thanks for saving me, Mom. I was raised really well although I don't know if you and Dad would think so. I like to think you would. My other mom and dad always tell me they love me and that you would too. I wish I could remember you. I bet we would have been a really happy family. Harry says hi. He thinks you'd be proud of me, Dad, to see me as a wolf. I don't know what else to say, but I'll be back soon, promise. I love you all. Bye Mom, Bye Dad, Bye Rachel, Bye Rebecca."

I stood up and left the cemetery. I walked around without a place to go. It was calming to concentrate only on my left and right feet.

Bella's awful car pulled up next to me. She smiled at me.

"Hey, Jake. I don't know why you're walking in the rain," she said. I smiled and climbed in the passenger seat.

"How was your day?" she asked.

I took a deep breath and blew it out. Where do I start?

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