Characters: Bella/Paul, Pairing: Bella/Jacob

Genre: Angst/Hurt/Comfort

Word count: 948, last I checked. Yeah, so it's a flashfic, not a drabble. So sue me. It needed to be longer. I had a story to tell once I saw the picture and I've been listening to freakin' Ed Sheeran's "Small Bump" all week and that's when I went off the rails. Fucking hormones.

Origin: Weekly Drabble Contest on Tricky Raven, Prompt #5

A/N: I know I said I was done with the baby stuff. Obviously, I'm a big fucking liar. I have angst demons to exorcise this week.

Prompt #5: [picture is available in my wolfpack omnibus, "Every Dog Has Its Day" on Tricky Raven]

Regret

The world went on. It felt wrong, all kinds of wrong, but there it was. The world went on and I had no choice but to carry on with it.

Birds chirped, leaves rustled, and a lone wolf howled in the distance as patrol shifts changed.

I swung my feet, letting them sway with the weight of the Keds dangling haphazardly from my toes before a gust of wind caught them and carried them away in the current of the river.

I preferred this spot on the river's edge for times like this when I craved the quiet to think thoughts I couldn't give voice to.

I loved—love—Jacob and I was secure in his love, but these thoughts were not for sharing.

My breath hitched on a watery sob before I could choke it down—just another reminder of why I was here.

These goddamn hormones—I couldn't trust them. Everything made me cry. Everything and nothing.

Nothing.

I rubbed my belly like I had unconsciously for months, noting how distended my abdomen remained. My attempts at hiding it beneath chunky sweaters were proved futile time and again.

People still asked.

Every day, they asked.

"Aw, it's true then? You're pregnant?"

Like a knife to the heart every time.

It wasn't so much the question as it was having to answer.

In a whisper, at best, "No, you heard wrong."

They looked at me like I was lying or crazy, but they just couldn't seem to understand. When you're that far along, it takes time for your body to go back to normal.

I'd never be normal again, though.

Not really.

It was worse, though, so much worse when they knew the truth and tried to relate to my current state of mind.

"It gets better, honey, it does. I had to two miscarriages myself before I had my three little ones. Plenty of time to have more."

As if that made it okay.

As if another baby would make up for the precious life lost to Jacob and I.

Like I didn't feel guilty enough as it was.

The crunch of gravel at my back hailed the arrival of someone who either didn't mind being heard or wanted me to have warning.

Sniffling, I tried vainly to hide the reason I was out here alone in the first place.

Couldn't a girl just cry in peace-and-fucking-quiet once in a while without everybody freaking out and sending out a search party?

I sighed, expecting to hear Jacob's voice pleading to let him hold me, to let him try to make it better.

But it wasn't hugs I needed.

It was time.

Paul's unexpected voice made me jump, "Mind some company?"

I gave an indifferent, one-shoulder shrug, trying not to let his presence bother me, "Free country."

He would do what he wanted anyway.

Clearing off more of the flat section of rock, he settled next to me-not too close, though. He was different—conscious of my need for space—unlike all the others.

Except for Jacob.

He always knew what I needed.

The hugs were for him. What he needed.

Jacob was a born nurturer. Hugging could set anything right in his world.

We all had our coping mechanisms.

"It's okay, you know," Paul murmured quietly, handing me a good, flat stone for skipping as he idly tossed one in the air and caught it before chucking it into the roiling river.

"What?" I asked, brows drawn together as I stared at the stone in my hand, unsure of what I should do with it.

"I'm guessing you don't know. I thought Baby Alpha told you everything. Figured you'd say something sooner, though, if he did. Anyway, before I phased, I had a girlfriend—serious, you know? She was pregnant. We were a little young, but it was going to be okay," his body moved—a small shrug—and I heard the frown in his voice.

"Then I phased and it all went to shit. I couldn't—wouldn't risk her and the baby when I was still so unpredictable. I told her I just needed some space to deal with my own shit. A week or two. But I took too long and the stress …" he cleared his throat. "She called me to tell me she lost the baby—right before she left to go stay with her grandparents in Texas for a while."

"M'sorry," I whispered, knowing it was a useless phrase. Nothing could make it better.

"Thanks, but that's not what I meant. I meant it's okay to think what you're thinking."

I glanced up at his face from beneath soggy lashes.

"You don't know what I'm thinking," I hissed furiously.

"I do. I might," he relented. "You're young. Jake's even younger. I know you were making the best of it. We all do in that situation, but it's okay to be sad and relieved."

I gasped, shocked to hear my most inner thoughts—my guilty regret—given voice.

My lip quivered, tears pooling, as I swore vehemently, "I loved my baby. I did."

I froze as he wrapped an arm around my shoulders, reluctant to let him comfort me, the monster that I was, "I know you did. Everyone knows you loved him, but sometimes the spirits know what we need even when we don't know to ask for it. Maybe…" he swallowed audibly and I could swear he was trying not to cry, too. "Maybe this was one of those times," he whispered, running a soothing hand down my back as he pulled me into his lap for a snuggle.

I curled into his warm embrace—so much like Jacob's—and took comfort from a hug for the first time in weeks before I whispered back, "Maybe it was."