WARNING: THIS STORY CONTAINS CHARACTER DEATH. I'm told I need to post this unless I want to be on the hot and pointy ends of your torches and pitchforks. You have been warned.

Rating: M, for language and a teensy bit of gentle lovin'.

Pre-reader: With enormous thanks to meliz875 who has consistently pushed me beyond my comfort zone to improve my writing. My goal when I wrote this one-shot was nothing particularly noble. I was trying to make Mel cry because I need practice writing angst. :D This is WAY outside my comfort zone.

Banner: Thanks to Mist for helping me fix up my attempt at a banner. :D

Disclaimer: Still don't own shit.

Song List: I hit Mel up for some ideas to get the ball rolling and then I found some old faves and I got ALL THE FEELS - "Hurt" by Johnny Cash, "Wake Me Up When September Ends" and "21 Guns" by Green Day, "Comfortably Numb" by Pink Floyd, and "A Warm Place" by NIN.

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21

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It began with a phone call, on a regular old Saturday like any other Saturday. Bella insisted they make no fuss and, though they did fuss a little, they didn't put a name on it, making it a pack gathering and that was just fine by her.

The pack knew her proclivities and were willing to play along, so it was just another Saturday.

But it being 'just another Saturday on a day when no fuss would be made and no mentions would be made of the reason for the lack of fuss', the entire pack was gathered in Sam and Emily's living room anyway when the call came in.

The call that changed their lives.

The call that made that Saturday unlike any other Saturday before.

Sam picked it up on the first ring, "Hello?"

Jacob heard his father's deep baritone on the other end, "Sam? Is Bella there?"

"Yeah, do you want to talk to-"

"I'm on my way."

Click.

Jacob watched Sam hang up the phone as if in slow motion, slick tendrils of dread wrapping around his gut.

Sam rubbed a hand over his heart.

Jacob mirrored the action.

Both knew the sensation, had felt it before-a sixth sense their wolves had that presaged the phase or harm to a member of their pack.

Their heads snapped up, eyes locked. Jacob and Sam realized with growing horror what the call meant as the other wolves in the house quieted, their bodies becoming restless with the same growing sense that had warned Sam's and Jacob's wolves that whatever was coming would be bad.

Really, very bad.

Long moments passed in silence as they waited, drawing nearer to one another and the pack for solace.

Why they craved solace, neither knew, only that they did.

Car doors closing, footsteps, and the wheels of his dad's chair alerted Jacob to their visitors.

"Bella?"

She looked up at the sound of Sam's voice, the smile from the pack's gentle ribbing that had graced her face earlier long gone.

The pack's body language was the first sign that something was very wrong.

"Billy called before. He wants to talk to you. He just pulled in. Let's step outside," he gestured towards the front door.

Bella rose to her feet, carefully extricating herself from the puppy pile Embry, Quil, and Seth had made around her on the couch.

Jacob noticed the tell-tale signs of their wolves' stress leeching out in their human forms; Quil and Embry had been inexplicably running their hands over Bella's arms and back and Seth was tense, the hairs rising on the back of his neck. Even Jared and Paul had inadvertently turned toward Bella, their bodies tense and ready. Low whines not audible to human ears leaked from pained throats in response to the new tension in the air.

Embry's hand ran gently down her arm again as she pulled away, forced to physically tug her wrist out of his grip as she stood.

She tilted her head, watching him curiously, her brow furrowed at his unaccustomed clinginess. Combing a soothing hand through his silky black hair, she scratched indulgently as she passed, leaning over to murmur in his ear, "S'okay. I'll be right back."

Barefoot, Bella padded quietly down the hall to the front door, swinging the screen door open as Sam and Jacob joined her-a solid wall of support at her back.

Her dad's girlfriend Sue was helping Billy up the short ramp the pack had built off the side of the Uley's porch. Her head was bent, but Bella could see Sue's tears falling onto Billy's shoulder as she leaned over as if to look for something, avoiding Bella's worried eyes.

Bella swallowed the lump of terror forcing its way up her throat, waiting for Billy to speak. His face was splotchy and red, tears just pooling at the corners of his eyes.

He rolled towards her, pulling the handbrake and holding a hand out, silently asking for her to join him.

"Billy?" her voice wavered.

"C'mere, honey," he murmured softly.

Her trembling fingers landed on his hand, letting him draw her into his lap so he could hold her as he delivered the words that Sue couldn't, "The station called. There's been an… Charlie w-" he bit his lip to choke down the sob that that gripped his vocal chords in a vice.

Taking a deep breath, he tried again, "Charlie's gone, honey. He- he was shot in Forks, tod-"

"No!" she scrambled out of his lap, eyes wide, curls whipping around her face wildly, shaking her head in denial. She backed towards Jacob and Sam as Embry stepped out behind them. "No, it's not him. It's- it's somebody else."

She bolted for the door, stumbling frantically into the kitchen with Jacob and Embry shadowing her to make sure she didn't do herself any real harm.

Snatching the phone from the hook, she dialed the station, spitting out words through clenched teeth like every one was an effort and she had none to spare, "This is Bella Swan. Where?"

The receptionist at the station began with platitudes, but Bella wasn't having it, "WHERE IS HE?!"

Her body shook with the effort to remain calm enough to get what she needed from the call-her father's location.

She slammed the phone on the cradle, the force cracking the receiver. Jacob winced at the sound, his ears sensitive to even the most moderate of noises as a wolf.

Bella stood frighteningly still for one moment before snatching up her keys and rushing to the door. She stuffed her feet in her rain boots and exploded out the door into the oncoming storm.

Sam nodded at Jacob and Embry, "Go. We'll be right behind you."

Speeding down the hall, Embry had the presence of mind to grab the rain coat Bella forgot in her haste. The two of them had just enough time to leap nimbly into the bed of the truck as she peeled out of the driveway.

Bella pulled up at Newton's, parking haphazardly across three spaces.

Slowly, like her feet were made of lead, she slid out, leaving her door wide open, and drifted like a lost little girl to the area of activity behind the yellow tape. Jacob and Embry leapt out and followed, flanking her when they caught up.

Embry draped the dark red jacket over her shoulders, pulling the hood up over her hair just before the first raindrops fell.

The deputies-her father's deputies-who were surrounding the area to keep out nosy onlookers parted to let her through as Deputy Baer stepped forward to offer condolences and try to gently turn her away.

At her side, Jacob saw her lip wobble, but her eyes kept to the horizon as she listened to the deputy's voice, terrified that she might see it and it would really be true and there would be no denying it anymore.

Jacob looked.

Charlie was laid out, still on the pavement covered with a sheet. One bright yellow, duck-patterned, booted foot stuck out from beneath the sheet as it flapped wetly in the wind and rain.

Bella knew that rain boot. She bought them for him for his birthday because she thought he needed a little color in his life; filled them with cheeky plaques covered in goofy fishing quotes and cop gags like donut magnets and a bacon scarf that Quil had helped her pick out.

Charlie always had a great sense of humor.

He wore that ugly bacon scarf all the time, too.

Jacob turned his attention back to Bella as she dropped her gaze, taking in the sheet fluttering around the b- Charlie. He lost his breath for a second as reality slammed into him like a sledgehammer.

That was Charlie.

Charlie was gone.

Gone.

The scene was bizarre. Another body lay twenty feet away, covered with a sheet.

Scattered on the ground around Charlie were a shattered cellphone, a mangled candy bar, a greeting card and envelope in shades of tan slowly going soggy in the rain, and dozens of tulips in a pretty peach color that could only have come from the convenience store next door to Newton's.

A familiar voice nearby intruded on Jacob's awareness as Bella stared down silently at her dad, one hand clapped over her mouth as silent tears coursed down her cheeks, her other hand reaching out blindly for Jacob's.

Searching the crowd for the voice, Jacob caught the eye of Mike Newton, dressed in the familiar uniform vest he and Bella always wore for work.

Mike's face crumpled when he noticed Bella-an apology, regret? Jacob couldn't be sure.

He stroked the back of her hand with his thumb.

She gripped him tighter.

Jacob took that as his cue. He led her away, what was left of her, anyway.

The ghost of Bella Swan.

She slept in Jacob's bed that night, but not for any of their usual. He was glad he'd finally replaced his childhood bed with a California King. He needed it that night.

In the center lay Bella, wrapped in Jacob's warm embrace, their legs tangled together the way they always slept. She was tense and upset. He knew the dreams would start soon, no matter how tight he held her.

Laying awake, he listened, senses tuned to his pack as they huddled and grieved together.

Everyone had loved Charlie Swan.

At Bella's back, sitting up and slumped against the headboard wide awake were Angela and Jessica. They came to drop off food from their moms, but stayed when they saw Bella-the shadow of their friend-that lay in Jacob's arms in bed, sobbing piteously into his throat, surrounded by his friends. Jessica held tightly to Angela's hand while Angela used the other to rub soothing circles on Bella's back.

The others were there, still.

Seth had crashed at the end of the bed head to foot with Quil with Jacob's feet draped over their bellies. Embry fell asleep behind Jacob, sitting up against the headboard, too, knees drawn up to his chest. Bella's arm lay under Jacob's throat, her hand resting on Embry's side, one foot held tightly by Quil while Seth's hand lay draped over the other. Paul and Rachel sat on the floor, backs propped against the side of the bed, their heads canted to the side, resting on each other. Jacob couldn't see it, but he knew-his wolf knew-that Embry had a hand on Paul's shoulder, too.

Like the pack they were, they drew together to comfort one of their own and each other.

Emily and Sam would have, too, but they had crashed in the twins' old room where they'd pushed the beds together. Emily still slept fitfully due to her injuries all these months later. The wrong touch in her sleep could be excruciating, so they stayed as close as they dared.

Jacob knew, too, that Kim was keeping busy in the kitchen, tidying up as she waited for Jared to come in from patrol when the pups took over. They would join the others when he returned.

Leah sat on the couch with Sue, holding her tight, crying silently with her mother as Sue wept for another love lost in less than three years.

Jacob's dad was at the council hall with the other Elders, working out whatever details were necessary for them to move Bella permanently to the rez as part of the Black household.

Renee had been thoughtless, running her mouth as usual, telling Bella over the phone that evening that it was for the best, that she could finally put Forks at her back and come home, where there was sunshine and real opportunity. She didn't have to waste away there in no-man's-land for Charlie's sake any longer.

Bella had screamed at her, raging, her face mottled-so red it was almost purple, as she told her mother to go fuck herself and not bother coming to Forks for the service. She wasn't welcome in her father's home anymore.

Bella couldn't stand to look at Charlie's house, though, overwhelmed as she was with painful memories when they drew near the neighborhood in the truck after leaving the scene of Charlie's… after leaving Newton's.

She trembled in the middle seat between himself and Embry, weeping, shaking her head and begging him not to make her go home yet.

So he brought her to his, asking Emily and Kim to pack her a bag for a long stay.

The service would be held the following day. Charlie's wishes to be cremated were known by Billy and Sue, so there was nothing to prevent them from interring him immediately.

With the help and organization of the Forks PD, Billy and Sue did their best to plan a memorial service that honored Charlie's years of service and his close relationship with the Quileute tribe.

Bella left them to it.

When she wasn't in Jacob's arms, she was completely numb to the rest of the world. Nothing mattered. She sat on the floor with her back against the wall, damp hair mussed and curling wildly, dazed and indifferent, as Emily asked her if she could comb her hair out and braid it for her to keep it out of her eyes.

Bella stared, unseeing, at the wall, not answering, not acknowledging, like she wasn't even really there-a pale, vaporous specter of her former self.

When Emily got no response, she went in search of Jacob.

After a brief conference with Emily and Sam, Jacob was taken out of the patrol rota. The others didn't mind and Bella's need was greater. Nobody wanted zombie Bella to return.

She sighed when Jacob's arms wrapped around her, his heat thawing her from the inside out as he lifted her from the floor to sit in his lap on the couch. She heard Emily then, saying she would brush out Bella's hair so she could go take a shower and warm up some before bed.

Though Bella couldn't be bothered to answer aloud, the pack carried on around her.

After her messy curls had been carefully brushed out, Jacob carried her into the bathroom, setting her on the sink and waiting for Emily and Kim to come in and take over.

Jacob watched as he stepped away.

So did Emily.

The little light of consciousness in Bella's eyes dimmed the second he let go.

That made his decision for him.

Shooing the other girls out, he turned the water on and lifted Bella up, stepping into the shower, clothes and all.

After she warmed up some, meeting his eyes and responding to his voice, he sat her on the low bench he'd installed for his dad, peeling her soaking clothes off and washing her himself head to toe.

Jacob's tender treatment helped some. His caring touch was a palliative balm to her soul, a flicker of light in the darkness.

When he turned to step out, she grabbed his arm instead, pulling him down to her level. Catching on quickly, he kneeled at her feet, letting her return the favor, slowly and carefully washing his hair, running her hands over every inch of him, assuring herself that he was still there, that her Jacob hadn't gone and taken all the light with him, too.

Every despairing thought she had was written across her face for Jacob to read.

Without thought or concern for anything other than her needs, he submitted to her ministrations, offering what comfort he could by being still and letting her take what she needed.

This.

She washed him without sponge or cloth, preferring the feel of skin on skin.

Like wolves, Jacob, thought. Bella took comfort from touch.

Of course his body reacted when she touched him, no matter the reason.

Bella didn't mind. He knew because she washed him there as tenderly as everywhere else, rinsing him thoroughly before she brushed the long wet ropes of her hair behind her shoulders and climbed naked into his lap, wrapping long, slim arms and legs around his back.

Because sex reaffirms life and Bella needed that more than anything else.

It wasn't rough or playful the way they usually made love.

She clung to him, soap-slicked hands cupping his head and neck, chest pressed flush against his as he rocked her hips gently against his, a slow build-up that brought them both to a sighing climax.

No words were spoken, just tender little nips and kisses and nuzzles that said without words what they couldn't speak aloud through the veil of shared grief; "I love you."

He smelled the salt before he saw the tears, but again, instinctively, he knew that it wasn't because of him or anything he'd done wrong.

It was catharsis.

Bella was the most self-sacrificing person he knew. She wouldn't consider her own pain when she tried to hide her tears from Sue to spare her. Refusing to cry in front of anyone, except Jacob, she'd cry only in the shower, where the proof of her grief would wash away as quickly as it came, like it never existed at all.

Jacob let the tears come, too. He, like Bella, couldn't afford to show weakness to others. His reasons were different, but the same, too.

There, on the floor of the Blacks' dingy old, worn tub, where they had shared bubble baths and rubber ducks as children, they grieved together as adults. They were, the way they'd always been, in this together, too.

It looked like all of Forks and La Push had turned out for the service the following day. There were some uniformed officers-friends of Charlie's from his academy days-who came out from Port A and Seattle to honor their fallen friend.

The service was a mix of dignified honor guard for a respected fallen officer and Quileute culture as Charlie was also being honored by the tribe with a burial on the rez near the final resting places of two of his three closest friends, Quil IV and Harry.

Old Quil and Sue had insisted.

Bella was grateful. She'd never step foot outside of La Push again if it was up to her.

Back at the Blacks' after the service, she fidgeted in her sleek, black sheath dress and sheer hose on shoeless feet, unaccustomed to the more formal attire required to honor her dad's memory.

Jacob laid her phone on the table by her hand, murmuring, "There's a few messages. I know you haven't checked it since yesterday. I could listen for you, in case Renee-"

"It's fine," she whispered, her voice roughened by whiskey. Quil and Paul had sat her down to drink shots before the service-numb her up good before she had to deal with the grief of others.

Jacob wasn't entirely sure if she was aware that she still clutched the bottle of Jack in her other hand. She'd set it by her feet for the service, but no one had the heart to tell her 'no' when she resumed drinking after the twenty-one gun salute and presentation of the honor flag.

She'd hugged the flag to her chest along with the bottle of whiskey, stepped out of her heels, and wobbled off towards the Rabbit in stockinged feet. Paul caught her elbow before she fell in the gravel, sweeping her off her feet, and passing her over to the warm security of Jacob's arms.

"Bells, honey?" Jacob had whispered, his lips pressed to the top of her head, carrying her the rest of the way to the car.

"Mmm…?"

"It's gonna be okay."

"Won't," she shook her head, the word coming out muffled and watery under tears and whiskey. " M'all alone 'gain. Like when Ed- … they left. Alone. Dad's gone. Mom wishes she never 'ad me. Just a big cosmic fuck-up, Jay. Can't be yours, either. No imprint for the paleface fuck-up nobody wanted. Ever'body leaves."

Jacob's face contorted in agony and the lump was back in his throat, the one that he couldn't swallow past.

Resolved, he decided to spell it out for her when they were settled back at the house-the feeling Sam and he had when his dad called with the news about Charlie meant that Bella was Pack. He found himself cursing his ancestors again for the 'gift' of imprinting. No goddamn good ever came of it and it made his girl feel like shit when he knew for certain that he would never imprint, couldn't, because he never saw other women. Their faces all blended together into a homogenous blur.

Only Bella's beautiful face had been clear to him since the day he phased wolf.

He didn't need an imprint to tell him that was love.

At the sounds of more soggy sniffles, Jacob turned to meet the eyes of his friends huddled together in the rain, their eyes wide in forlorn faces. He was confused for a second until he realized they had heard Bells pouring out her grief and loneliness, unaware the two of them had an audience.

She was still muttering piteously as her head lolled drunkenly on his upper arm, "Good enough to be your best friend our whole lives since mudpies and diapers, sure… Girlfriend for a while, maybe, but no little baby puppies for the heir to the thing with the, with the... cosmic paleface fuck-up girl because of toothless vampires with piss-yellow eyes and-" she waved her hand in a circle, "you know, general paleness. And now… no Charlie-dad, either. Just nobody."

He motioned to Quil to take the keys for the Rabbit so he could climb right into his dad's truck with Bella in his lap. Quil took Billy home and the pack piled into his dad's pick-up around them, drawn to their pack sister, unable to be parted from each other.

She'd sobered up some, her drinking slowing down, surrounded by the comfort of pack as she sat at Jacob's kitchen table before dinner when he handed her the freshly-charged phone.

Pulling up a chair beside her-assuming there would be at least one snotty, uncalled for message from Renee among the others-he held her hand as she brought up her voicemail and put the phone to her ear.

Bella and every wolf in the house froze as the very first message clicked on and a familiar, amused voice bled through the speaker. The quiet murmur of other voices and a cash register dinged in the background of the recording.

"Hey, there, kiddo. Just wanted to let you know we've had a change of plans. Had to cut fishing short with Billy. I got called in to cover for one of the boys today, so I'll be late for dinner. Now I know you said no fuss, so I promise not to go overboard. I got your card and a Whatchamacallit and a little somethin' pretty 'cause you're still my baby girl."

A round of teasing 'aww's could be heard in the background, making a little ghost of a smile appear on Bella's face as she listened, a single tear breaking free.

Jacob knew the voices, pegged them as two of Charlie's deputies who had been on the scene yesterday when it all went down.

Charlie's message continued, "Oh, shut it! Ahem. Sorry, kid. Listen, in case I'm not there in time, I wanted to-" there was shuffling and it sounded like Charlie walked away a bit, the sound of his boots squeaking on wet pavement and sloshing through puddles was faint, but distinctive before he picked up where he left off, "I just wanted to… well... hell-"

He cleared his throat again and began to sing in a deep, husky baritone that none of them had ever heard, "Happy birthday to you... happy birthday to you... happy birthday, dear Be-ells... happy birthday to you… Have a good one. Love you, kiddo."

The ghost of a smile tipped up into the beginnings of a genuine smile at the sound of her father's words, delivered a day late-his final gift to his baby girl.

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