thirty-six.

(Jacob)

As it is wont to do in ever-cheerful, sunny Washington, the sky soon darkens with the threat of more rain, and when the first droplets begin falling upon them Jacob is forced to finally break the god-awful silence that's descended like its own black cloud over First Beach.

"We should get going. With your luck you'll probably catch the flu, or something. Come on."

She doesn't answer, but then he doesn't expect her to. Her crying jag finally seems to be over though, thank God, and if he didn't know better he would think that she's fallen asleep on the bench after having so thoroughly exhausted herself.

Jacob gets to his feet and brushes sand from his grease-and-oil-stained cargo pants down. He really doesn't want to send her back sick, or else her bloodsucker will surely use it as an excuse to never let her visit again. And he does want her to visit again, because despite everything she is still his friend and he still wants to fight to keep her heart beating. To keep her human.

He offers a hand out to her, but Bella stares past him, her gaze fixed unseeingly at a spot on the horizon with her arms wrapped around herself, her jacket pulled tight to keep the warmth in. Granted, she doesn't look as awful as she looked back in January, but she still looks fragile enough that it makes him feel fleetingly guilty.

Not that he has anything to feel guilty about, he tells himself, but . . .

Hell, it's confusing. He understands that she was upset because he's imprinted. He also understands that he is the source of whatever pain she is feeling. He just doesn't understand why.

"Bella?" he prompts her gently, hand still extended. "Do you want me to call Charlie? Or your bloo— . . . Edward?"

He tries to be kind by not spitting the name out, he really does, but he's not all too sure he succeeds. Either way, the two sickening syllables seem to be all Bella needs to jumpstart back into reality.

She blinks, shaking her head as she comes down to earth. "No." Her voice is hoarse, so she clears her throat, straightening her spine a little. "I . . . I'm supposed to go to Angela's to help her with her graduation announcements, but . . . I think I'm going to be in trouble when I get back."

"He's going to be mad at you?"

"Yes. He really hates it when I do things he considers risky."

Jacob rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest. "Like hanging out with werewolves?"

Bella's nod is weak. "Yeah."

"Cool. You can stay for the rest of the day, then. Maybe that'll be enough time for me to convince you that you're the one who's supposed to be mad — not him." He holds his hand out a second time, wiggling his fingers. "Come on," he says again, and she finally lets him haul her to her feet.

"Jake, you don't . . . You really don't have to be nice to me," she mumbles when she's finally steady. She eases her fingers out of his grip. "I've taken up so much of your time already. You should go back to your friends and — and Leah."

"Just because I've imprinted doesn't mean we can't be friends, Bella." He puts his arm around her skinny shoulders and coaxes her along to walk with him. "Besides, your truck's back at my place. You gotta spend a little more time with me whether you like it or not."

There are only a few beats of hesitation before she relents. She shivers and leans into his side for warmth, and he leans back for a second to pull her hood over her head before draping his arm loosely across her shoulders once again.

The silence between them on the way back is not as awkward as it was before — not for Jacob, anyway, who feels like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders. For the first time in a long time, he thinks that maybe they actually have a shot. That maybe he and Bella can be friends after all, without this supernatural jazz that constantly seems to shadow them.

Maybe, he thinks, just maybe he'll be able to do this. He can help her make the right choice — one doesn't have to be so . . . complicated, and painful, and sad. One that she can make for herself and doesn't have to be based on who is going to be waiting on the other side of the consequences.

These thoughts, however, last for a grand total of five minutes, until they pass by the Littlesea's store and Bella quietly asks, "Do you love her?"

"Yes," he replies.

What else is there to say? He loves Leah, more than he ever thought possible. More than is influenced by what they share, more than is probably considered healthy. But then, Bella should be able to understand that, he thinks — even if she can't understand anything else.

"Does she love you?"

Jacob's thoughts drift to stolen moments he's committed to memory since March. Moments between patrols, and school, and looking after their parents.

He thinks of crawling into bed at night, into Leah's arms that are always open and waiting for him. He thinks about counting down the hours, minutes until he can see her again, knowing that she is doing the exact same thing and that she will never, ever admit it, even if Seth teases her about watching the clock. He thinks of the way she occasionally stares at him, soft and adoring, open and exposed in the way she rarely allows anyone else to witness; and that, sometimes, he's sure she's going to tell him . . . something . . .

"I think she does, yeah."

"You think she does?" Bella questions, and he can hear the frown in her voice.

"It's still kind of early, I guess. We're not there yet."

"Oh," she says.

Jacob looks down at her. And sure enough, there is the frown etched into her features, a mixture of thoughtfulness and confusion and lingering upset in her eyes as she chews on her bottom lip.

He gives her a slight nudge. "Can I ask you something now?"

Hesitation grips her. "What?"

"Why did you get so . . . upset? Because I'm trying, Bella, I am, but I just can't understand. The only thing that I can come up with is . . . Well, I was pretty open with you — y'know, before — but you made it clear that you didn't feel the same way as I did. In fact, you pretty much said you couldn't feel like that because nothing would ever change for you."

She pulls away from him, then, and he lets her go. She quickly folds her arms and burrows into her hood, walking ahead of him so that he cannot see her face.

"I don't know," she mutters after a long minute. "It was just the shock of it, I guess. I didn't expect it."

It doesn't go unnoticed that she doesn't answer his question — not properly.

"I'm not sad about this, Bella," he pushes on regardless, lengthening his strides to catch up to her. "You shouldn't be either. Hell, I honestly thought this is what you would've wanted, if you had known anything about it."

"I'm not sad," she insists, refusing to look at him still. "I told you, I'm happy for you. I am. I mean — I get it. She's beautiful, Jake. I understand."

"You . . . What? She's beautiful? Is that what you think this is about?" he demands disbelievingly. "Because she's beautiful?"

Tears inevitably begin welling in Bella's eyes again, unprepared for this turn of conversation and how his red-hot anger has quickly erupted in natural defence of the imprint.

No, not of the imprint. In defence of Leah.

Bella stops in her tracks, taken aback. "No, Jake, I—"

"We're not all that shallow," he continues over her, slightly more scathing than he intends. He is powerless to stop it. "It's not all about looks, or how much money you have, or how quickly you tell someone you love them — like that's a measure of the meaning of your relationship. I guess I can see why you might think life is . . ."

Jacob has enough forethought to shut his mouth before he can say something he can't take back. Something as truly mean as it would be unforgivable.

He forces calm into his tone, which is no small feat with his wolf scrabbling to break free. "It's not like that for me. I don't care about that stuff."

"I didn't — I didn't mean it like that," Bella replies as pink rises in her cheeks, her wide brown eyes still watery as she stares up at him. "I just . . . I'm worried about you. This isn't like you! And she's a lot older than you are! Doesn't that—"

"She's nearly the same age as you, give or take a year," he retorts disapprovingly. He doesn't want to hear the end of that sentence. "And what's a few years in the grand scheme of things? There must be nearly a thousand between you and your bloodsucker."

Bella sniffs, turning away. "I'm older than Edward."

"Oh, so we're only counting physical age now?" Jacob scoffs at her back, feeling his temper rising and rising by the second despite his best efforts to stay calm. He has to shove his hands into his pockets to stop them from shaking. From shaking her. "Don't be such a hypocrite, Bella."

"I'm just trying to understand," she whispers meekly.

"No, you're being ridiculous," he snaps, lurching away, putting more distance between them. God, she's exasperating — has she always been this way, or is it a new thing? "I imprinted on her. Leah could be five years older, ten years older, even, and it wouldn't make a difference to me."

"What about ten years younger?"

Jacob has to take another deep, calming breath at that. The accusation in her tone is too much, even for someone with admirable control like he has. It's all he can do to not phase where he stands.

"What do you take me for? Imprinting doesn't automatically mean hearts and roses. If she had wanted another brother, or a friend, I would have done that too. Whatever she wants. Come on, Bella. Be reasonable."

He stalks away from her, not caring if she decides to keep up with him this time or not.

But, of course, she does. "So Leah — she wants . . ."

"Yes. And so do I. And not just because she does. I know myself, and I'm pretty sure I'd feel like this even if she'd told me to leave her alone. Which I would have done, by the way. Which I have done — the second she asked," he adds sourly, glaring at her with unrestrained ire before she can argue that part, too.

"I think I should go," she murmurs, her hurt evident.

"I think so, too," he replies shortly. "Let's go and see if your truck is done, and then you can run back to your bloodsucker. I don't care anymore."

The garage is locked up when he returns home, so he heads straight towards the little red house where he can hear four heartbeats waiting for him inside.

Bella is still trailing behind. Her red truck is in the same place she left it, and Jacob wonders if he kicks a tyre hard enough whether it'll burst. But then he remembers he'll be the one who has to fix it just so she can leave.

He stalks past it, thunder at his heels. With a bit of luck, Embry never bothered to look underneath the hood and it was all just for show.

As he approaches the house, he sees Quil standing in the window, where he has a feeling his friend has likely been told to stand sentry and keep watch. Probably by Leah.

"They're back!" his friend calls over his shoulder. "You can stop worrying now!"

"Who was worried?" Leah responds, but then she appears in the window, too, and her face breaks out into a relieved smile at the sight of him. Jacob tries to smile back, and he knows that he is unconvincing from the way her features immediately drop into concern.

"I bet he looks like a drowned rat," comes the gravelly tone of his father from deeper inside the house. "Is she with him?"

Nobody answers, but Jacob is already pushing his way through the door.

Embry is the first to catch his eye, and he blanches at the look on Jacob's face from where he is sprawled over the couch in front of the television. "Jake?"

"Does anyone have Bella's keys?" he asks the room. The words are a little shaky at the edges, the argument he's had still lingering at the forefront of his mind, and he thinks that his family stops breathing for half a second at the sound of his voice. The worry that comes from them — from Leah — is a palpable, pulsing thing, but he can't look at her. Not yet. Not until she goes, until he can't hear the damned sniffling behind him and she's gone.

Quil, surprisingly, is the first to recover. "Yeah. I got it. Don't worry," he says quickly. He springs to his feet and hurries past Leah, then Jacob, digging into his pockets as he goes, and the door snaps closed behind him.

"Do I have to call Charlie?" Billy asks from the kitchen table, where he is nursing a cup of joe and looking fairly resigned. It wasn't that long ago that he had to make a similar phone call — back when Bella had turned up out of the blue in similar fashion and demanded to know what was going on the first time. Only then, Jacob hadn't been able to tell her anything.

Now, it's almost as if by telling her the truth, he's told her too much.

"I don't think she'll be going home," he tells his father tightly as Embry switches the television off.

Billy sighs. "I guess it's probably not our business anymore, anyway," he says, pushing himself away from the table. He drops his coffee mug into the sink, where Leah is leaning against the countertop and carefully watching the scene before her. Watching him.

As the engine of the truck roars to life, Jacob finally meets her eyes. The tension in his chest starts to ease up almost immediately just at the sight of her, and he wishes he'd allowed himself to seek her out sooner.

"Probably not," he agrees flatly, and yet her responding smile is soft. Warm, gentle.

"Did you make her cry?" Embry asks, sitting up.

Leah pulls her eyes away and turns her head back to the window as if to find that out for herself. After a second or two, her lips give an infinitesimal twitch at whatever it is she sees.

Fuck, he loves her.

"Earth to Jacob," Embry calls. "So? How'd she take it?"

"About as well as you all thought she would," he replies, and he's grateful when Embry doesn't respond with something like 'I told you so'. Because at some point or another, usually whilst they're on patrol and out of earshot from Leah, his brothers have all tried to tell him what was going to happen the day Bella found out that he imprinted. He just hadn't really wanted to believe that of someone he'd once considered one of his best friends.

"Well. I, for one, am finally glad it's all over." Billy pats Leah on the elbow, and she smiles down at him like she very much agrees with the statement. "I'm going to go to your mom's and see if she can whip up any fish fry to celebrate. See if she's nailed down that recipe."

"You literally just had breakfast," she tells him with a single raised eyebrow. "Twice, I might add."

"And now it's lunchtime," he tells her with a straight face. "Are you coming, or do I have to eat it all myself?"

Jacob pretends to itch his cheek, the movement drawing her attention, and a quick glance from him tells her that she's not going anywhere.

"Uhm, no. You go ahead. We'll be there for dinner, though," she says, although it sounds more like a question until Jacob starts nodding. Her eyes swivel back to Billy again. "Yeah, we'll be home for dinner."

"Embry will drive you." Jacob snatches the keys to the Rabbit from the side and throws them over to his brother, who only just snatches them out of the air in time. "Be gentle with it," he warns.

Embry blinks, dumbfounded. "Wow, seriously? Can I drive to Hoquiam after and check out that new auto store?"

"Just this once. Make sure you bring it back with a full tank. And Quil doesn't drive!"

"Hey, I heard that!" Quil protests, suddenly appearing.

Billy shrugs. "Alright, then. But if you go even a single digit over the speed limit, I'll have your hide made into a new rug," he warns in grave tones, and he wheels himself out of the house without a backward glance.

(Leah)

It takes all of five seconds after the door has closed for Jacob to sweep her up in his arms.

He moves so quickly that her head spins, and it comes down to instinct to lock her legs around his waist and cling to him. She curls her fingers over his broad shoulders, not even minding in the slightest that his shirt isn't completely dry or that he's holding her tightly enough it's just on the edge of pain. Delicious, welcome, toe-curling pain after torturous minutes of forcing herself to remain in place. It had taken everything to not rush over to him the second he walked in and soothe the lines from his face.

Jacob buries his face into her neck, mumbling something or other against her skin. His words are broken, barely legible, and . . . apologetic, of all things, and in that moment—

In that moment, Leah thinks she could kill Bella Swan.

Not that she hasn't already thought about it, of course, but when Jake shudders against her, breathing her in almost desperately in a way he never has before, she thinks she could really mean it this time. How he'd looked, walking up the dirt road . . . She never wants to see that look on his face ever again.

She threads her fingers through his unruly hair that is in desperate need of a tidy up, remembering a time when he used to sport a ponytail and wondering whether he ever will again.

I'm in this for life, he'd told her once, bitter and hardened by it. Leah remembers the conversation like yesterday — that first conversation, the day he'd brought Seth home safe and sound. All for her. She is able to understand that now, is able to look back on all their conversations before she learned about the imprint and see just how much he was really suffering.

Just because I want to stop doesn't mean that I can, he'd said afterwards. And then he'd tried anyway, fighting the impossible, fighting the imprint for her as well as fighting his birthright, only to be drawn back into it all again. And now this . . .

It is hopelessly, hopelessly unfair.

After a long time of murmuring her own nothings, of holding him as tightly as he holds her, eventually Jacob seems to have the presence of mind to lift his head. He keeps one arm firmly around her back as the other moves down, lower, and he uses it to support her weight before suddenly he is moving again without warning.

He strides over to the couch and lowers them both down, quickly enfolding her back into his tight embrace right there upon his lap. It's testament to how much he is still struggling when he doesn't smile or even so much as tease her whilst she fidgets around within his hold, carefully readjusting herself so that she's not effectively straddling him, and that concerns her just as much as everything else.

Thankfully the simmering rage behind his eyes has finally calmed some, although she still feels the emotions coursing through him thanks to what they share. And she wonders just how badly it went, and if she was wrong to push him to talk to Bella even though he looked like he'd rather run in the opposite direction than do it alone.

"What can I do?" she murmurs, smoothing his hair back from his forehead. He closes his eyes, tilting his head into her palm.

"You're doing it," he tells her just as quietly. "I'm okay. Almost lost it for a bit for a second, is all. I'm sorry."

Leah feels herself bristling at the apology, her mouth tightening as she swallows down the protest. He doesn't need to apologise to her, ever, not for this.

"What happened?" she asks instead.

He's quiet for a few moments, breathing deep as her hand keeps its steady rhythm over his hair, his neck, wherever he leans and pushes into her touch. Then he sighs.

"I think . . . It just hit me all at once, y'know? I thought I could stop her from making the wrong choice," he whispers painedly, his fingers slipping underneath her shirt and pressing against the small of her back. Skin-on-skin contact like this centres him like nothing else. "But now I'm not so sure. I think I blew my chance."

Leah's heart skips, and then it sinks with terrible feeling. "Because you imprinted?"

On me, she doesn't say. Because of us. But it doesn't need to be said; it hangs in the air, toxic and suffocating.

His eyes fly open. "No! No," he insists vehemently. "This has nothing to do with that. Even if there was a way for me to take it back, I wouldn't. Ever."

The breath she has been holding flies out of her.

"I wouldn't give you up," he says then, pulling her to his chest. "Everyone can go to hell before I do that. Bella can go to hell, especially after the shit she pulled today. That's what I meant. It has nothing to do with you."

"She tried something?" she asks, stilling against him.

"No, honey. I've never been that mad with her before, though. She was . . ."

"A bitch?" Leah offers helpfully.

Jacob chuckles for the first time since returning, and a part of her — the imprint part — feels victorious, even if that same part is still ready to attack at the mere thought of someone putting their hands on him. It requires every bit of strength she has to push down the image she has of Bella leaning into his space, and . . .

(No. She will not think of it.)

"Yeah," Jake says, "she was. She was upset, and then she was quiet, and then she was a bitch, and I was rude and defensive. And," he adds in a heavier tone, "I don't think she's my friend anymore, which means she's probably going to run back to her bloodsucker and offer her neck up first chance she gets."

"Just because you've had a spat doesn't mean anything," Leah says into his chest. "I used to fight with Rachel all the time. Didn't mean shit."

"Not about stuff like this. Besides, Rebecca always used to force you to say sorry to each other."

"Well, I'm not going to do that for you two, if that's what you're asking."

"No," he says. She can hear the smile. "But I really think this is it, honey. There's nothing I can do. I don't think she'll be back."

"If she doesn't want to come around anymore, then that's fine by me. And if you don't want her around, then that's fine too. I'll support whatever you want." She sits up on his legs and holds his eyes. "But I am sorry you lost a friend," she tells him, and she means it. "She never deserved you."

He tucks her hair behind her ear with heart-rending gentleness and love in his eyes. "You're very biased, but thank you."

"I'm right, though, aren't I?"

That makes him snort. "You're also a brat. Have I told you that?"

"A few times," she says proudly, and she plasters her best smile over her face, the one she has long learned stuns him into silence and lets her have her own way.

It works. He kisses her, and he doesn't once let her go for the rest of the afternoon.

Optional A/N Part Two (June 2021): Hi again. I cross-post on FFn and AO3 (and Wattpad, for my sins — I still don't know how to navigate around it), and there have been a few pitchforks lifted on all platforms, so I wanted to clear a few things up (and also explain the reasoning behind this chapter):

I know a lot of us don't care for Bella, and given the reactions from the last chapter I suspect a lot of you probably struggled through this one — if you finished it at all. (In the words of our Aunt Bran: "Bella is a limp dishrag." Believe me when I say I am having these words printed on my wall. We are not Bella supporters in this house.) I was hella nervous posting this, but, ultimately, I'm here to explore what imprinting and Leah not phasing could have been like. Please have mercy.

Also, in spite of SM trying to ruin his character, I do believe Jacob is a good person (I literally don't care what a certain Facebook group says). A bit of a hothead maybe, granted, but still a good person, and one of the biggest things for him in this story — aside from imprinting — is that Bella's going to turn into a vampire.

I also believe and will maintain that Bella's reaction to learning about him imprinting was also very in keeping with her character (for example, how relieved she was in Chapter 5 of Eclipse that he hadn't imprinted on anybody, and then again in Chapter 27 when she cried all night after 'letting him go'). Her reaction was also set up in the prologue/preface (still don't know what to really call that). And, honestly, I really don't want her and Jacob to have to kiss for her to realise that she loves him — mostly because I would then have to write Leah murdering her, and this isn't that kind of story. As satisfying as that would be. So I brought that all forward a little bit, although it might take a while longer for her to tell him how she feels (if ever, not sure if I can be arsed to dedicate any chapters to it. I'm kind of leaning towards keeping it as something that is painfully obvious but stays in the background).

Anyway. I'm sorry about any confusion caused, and I'm sorry that some of you were disappointed. I probably should have explained a lot earlier and will endeavour to do so in future.

Secondly, this story will be sticking to major plot points (minus the kissing, see above) throughout Eclipse (and potentially Breaking Dawn. That is, if I ever write a sequel. Right now, I don't know how I would make that work unless I rewrite the story completely. But that's a headache for another day). We might take a couple of detours to get towards the end, but hopefully when we do arrive, we will have a nicely wrapped up Jacob/Leah story that has stayed as true to the books as possible.

Bella's arc will not change (marriage, baby, etc). She is still the same person who wants to be Edward's equal, who wants to be young and beautiful forever because that's all she (Meyer) thinks a woman is good for. Thank you for coming to my TED talk.

Lastly, I read all of your reviews/comments (sometimes several times over) and I love hearing what you think, what you suspect is going to happen (oftentimes you hit the nail on the head!), and what you want to see. This story remains a fanservice for us all to make up for SM steamrolling over Blackwater (CatTheWall, I promise there will be more romance — we just had to get through the angst first!), and I suppose if you're still here 151,000 words later then what's 100,000 more? Thank you, as always, for reading, reviewing, favouriting, and/or following. Massive love.