All Bark, No Bite [Jacob & Edward]

9

Jacob couldn't ignore the cold feeling that washed over him. 

He can feel the dread settling in the pit of his stomach as the last couple of days dawn on him. He doesn't know how long she's been dead, sure, but he's been blaming all of his current blunders on this witch. He's been placing all of his faith in the fact that he'll be "back to normal" after this is done, after they force her to fix him. Things will just snap back into place and he can forget the weird feelings and strange attachments.

"Dead?" His voice sounds like it's being forced out through a straw.

She's dead. She can't be dead. 

He can feel Edward shift slowly on the bed like he was afraid that one wrong move would startle Jacob. 

"Hey, it's not the end of the world..." Edward's voice is all soft again, which lets Jacob know that he must look like he's going to have a breakdown, "We can keep looking for alternatives."

He could hear something in Edward's voice as well. He can't quite put his finger on what it is because he can't keep focus long enough to. The problem wasn't going to be fixed by an "alternative". 

An alternative wasn't going to revert him back to a Jacob who hadn't imprinted on Edward and who hadn't somehow stirred up shit between him and Bella. 'Cause Bella was in love with Edward an unhealthy amount and nothing could change that. Especially not Jacob. Finding an alternative wasn't going to reset that dynamic.

No, what was bothering him wasn't that he was playing surrogate; It was that he now knew these emotions were his. At least they were now anyway.

"Jake?" Edward's voice is barely above a whisper now.

The attachment to this baby, that he'd only been aware of for about a month, that was all him too. 

Jacob finally lifts his eyes to look up at Edward. He looks a bit like the Edward Jacob had known before he'd found himself stumbling through a forest or lying on a carpet or basically ingrained into Edward's bed. His voice was a bit empty; his eyes were guarded. It was like he was anticipating the worst.

"What are you going to tell Bella?" 

He can tell that it's not what Edward's expecting based on the way his face somehow goes even more blank. Then, Jacob sees a brief flash of relief before Edward's expression is thoughtful. 

"The truth." Is all he can come up with after they sit there staring at one another for about three minutes.

"Truth?" 

The truth? What is the truth? How much of the truth?

The imprinting, the kissing, the stumbling downstairs naked to get cold leftovers?

Edward doesn't seem to know the amount he wants to divulge himself as his eyes flick around the room as if he's remembering what the truth actually is.

"The witch is dead, the hex can't be reversed, and we will have to start planning for the future." There was something in the way he said the last part of that sentence that caught Jacob's attention, especially the way he averted his eyes, instead choosing to glance down at the rumpled duvet.

"Future?" Jacob says it slowly, letting it roll across his tongue as if that would allow him to understand what Edward was thinking. Edward looks up at him and he has that look on his face again, like he was in a cartoon and a piano was just going to come flying through the door and hit him smack in his mouth.

"I can't keep lying."

Jacob can feel his palms start to sweat. He's not hot. He's barely even dressed, donning a flowy shirt he's been wearing for two days straight and a random pair of pajama pants he'd stolen from Edward, but he could still feel himself flush.