The Carver Café [Edward/Jacob]

11

Mike stumbles into Jacob's room at his normal time, but Jacob can tell by the look on his face, that it wasn't going to be a normal visit. He's thankful that Quil had forgone the nest today, instead spending the day with Embry. He'd mumbled something about not wanting to ruin the scent "just in case he comes home late". No matter how obnoxious the explanation is, he's glad he's alone when he gets the news.

"Jake, it's getting close." Mike starts and Jacob can hear the heaviness in his voice. It sounds like he's harboring a lump in his throat. 

"How close?" Jacob asks on a sigh. He knew he wasn't going to like it, whatever Mike was about to say. The shifty, red eyes and blotchy face told him enough.

Mike doesn't seem to able to get the words out, so he just wordlessly holds up an image. 

It takes Jacob a second to realize that he's staring at a picture from an autopsy. It's a little girl, her body pale and lifeless. He reaches out for the image, staring down blankly at it. 

"It's Claire, Jake." Mike informs him, but he has to be wrong. Why the hell would they kill Claire? Why would they be anywhere near a werewolf? Why was she out in the clearing by herself?

Mike had given him a call earlier about another body, but he hadn't answered the phone all day when Jacob tried to get more information. 

He can feel dread settling into his bones as he stares down at the person on the autopsy table. That isn't Claire, it can't be Claire. 

He's not sure if he's said anything or even moved in the last five minutes, but whatever he's been doing seems to frazzle Mike. The man is staring over at him, stumbling over his words as he quickly pulls himself up from his seat. 

"We'll find him, sir." Then, he's rushing out of the room without another word and Jacob's left with this information. 

He gets approximately a minute to process it before Quil is quietly slipping into the room. He's cautious as he sits in the desk chair instead of trying to sit in the flattened nest.

"They called Leah." Quil admits quietly, eyes running over the pictures in Jacob's lap quickly before he looks away. Jacob could hear the wobble in his voice, could probably see the red in his eyes. He'd clearly known for longer than Jacob. 

He tosses the images over to the side and turns over, facing the wall instead of looking over at Quil. He hears a sniffle from behind him.

"He'll be home soon." Then, Jacob's left alone with his own thoughts for about an hour.

Jacob doesn't look away from the wall when Edward enters. Any other day, Edward would assume that he's sleeping, but based off of how quiet the house is, Edward knows better. The news must've finally made its way to Jacob along with the rest of the family. 

His first instinct is to turn around and leave. They're very clearly grieving and he has no reason to be hovering. However, the look in Jacob's eyes when he finally does turn over tells Edward that he wasn't going to make it very far. If anyone needed a friend right now, it was definitely Jacob. Edward sucked in a breath before be begins to make himself comfortable in the pile of pillows. He doesn't force any contact, instead laying quietly next to Jacob and letting him choose whatever it was that he wanted. 

For the first hour, they just lay with a sliver of space in between them. Eventually, Edward thinks that Jacob's fallen asleep in front of him. It's only then that he reaches out and wraps an arm around his body, tugging him back, and closing the space. Jacob doesn't move to leave, if anything, he sinks further into Edward until there is nothing left separating them. They lay like that for a while before Edward's hands start moving purely out of instinct. He runs his hands slowly up and down Jacob's torso, starting from his collarbone down to where his pajama pants begin. Then, he runs his hands from left to right over Jacob's stomach. He doesn't know if it's helping, really isn't thinking about what would be helpful. It's just what his brain urges him to do.