All Bark, No Bite [Jacob & Edward]

28.5

The Volturi are lined along the edge of the island, blocking anyone from getting in or out. Jacob's able to squeeze that much out of Esme when she comes back in to check on the babies. 

Jacob has to admit that he's never felt so lost in his life. So far, the bulk of his early twenties has been pretty much goal after goal. He wanted a repair shop, he raised money to build a repair shop. He wanted Bella, he almost got her for a couple of months. Now that he's reached his most recent goal of making it to the end of childbirth, he feels like he's stumbling through the forest again, blind to wherever he was going. 

He's been wearing a ring. 

He's been wearing one that belonged to his mother out of paranoia, hoping that if he grips onto it tight enough, he'll be able to throw the real one at Edward when he finally makes it back off of the beach. Apparently, they'd shown up right as he was being moved into the birthing room and had managed to kill one unsuspecting person before he could even give birth. It's been two days and there have been a total of two deaths. Esme won't tell him who it is or how they died and he can feel himself getting worked up as he plays with the tiny box. 

Edward has proposed an unhealthy number of times, shoving marriage into the mix like that would be the cure all. It'd frustrated Jacob during his pregnancy because he was very much aware of what pregnancy tends to do to the unimprinted men in packs. They start confessing their undying love because they're wired to want to raise their child. He didn't need that. As much as they'd been intertwined, there hadn't been a moment where it was just them staying together because they wanted to be together. He'd accidentally imprinted, which makes feelings even harder to separate. He wanted to finally have his head clear before he made a decision like that. 

Jacob twists the ring around on his finger as he stares blankly over at the girls. They're both sleeping peacefully now that they are off of the tubes. They're slowly developing color and their hair is jet black like Jacob's. The only thing that discerns them from being strictly his is that one of them apparently has green eyes. According to Esme, they'd be noticeably greener in a couple of months. They hadn't even gotten a chance to name them before Edward left.

Jacob's not one to cry under normal circumstances. 

As much as he'd probably bawled his eyes out during the last couple of months, he wasn't one to just break down into tears unprompted. Esme, who was just full of fun facts, told him that it would take him around a year before he was back to being himself. So, maybe, he could blame that for the way his eyes well up with tears. 

He's been strong, he thinks. Even despite the minor breakdowns, he thinks he's sufficiently held the weight of their little world on his shoulders. He'd done that even with genuine danger breathing down his neck. He'd made it far enough; he should be able to rest now. 

The first sob hits him unexpectedly and he has to slap a hand over his mouth to keep from waking them up, but once the dam broke, he can't wrangle it back together. His wound has almost healed, but he can feel a little discomfort as he rocks uncontrollably trying to soothe himself. He's huffing, barely able to catch a breath before another sob wracks his body. 

He can feel the ring against his skin as he swipes quickly at his tears, trying to get himself under control before Esme returns.

Leah had described the feeling after birth as being euphoric. She'd said something about accomplishments and finally getting to see your own custom tiny human.

Taking in a breath feels like he's fighting someone for it. He wants that peace, whatever that feels like. He felt like he'd done enough. He felt like he'd earned at least an ounce of that peace.