sweet_zelda

Hello everyone,

I figured since it's the brand new old self I could post my fanfic. Actually loveloveme here told me to write it, so I started. I apologize if it's messy...

Title Someone That You're With
Fandom Twilight
Characters Jacob / Althea (original character)
Genre romance? action? fantasy?
Rating definitely not higher than PG-13
Summary When on the run, Jake meets someone who he feels would fit in great with that family he knows. Unsure as to why, he still decides to go back to Forks, despite the fact that he swore to never return. (I'm not good at summaries, so just read it )


Someone That You're With

JAKE

Day 137

I had hunted it for a couple of hours now. It was a nice change, actually. A nice change from running. I stopped hearing the others exactly 86 days 5 hours 23 minutes ago. I stopped hearing and I stopped listening. I stopped trying.

There it was again, stronger now. The sweet smell; so different from the others, yet the same. I had been tracking this thing for the past 23 days. It was smart, actually. Smart enough to not let me near it. It was way smarter than all the ones I had hunted before; all the ones I had killed before. It had moved around a lot, I had been following. I wasn’t going to let this one get away. At least, that’s what I had told myself.

I sniffed a few trees, checked where the smell was the strongest, when suddenly, something jumped out of the trees at me. I turned, quickly, making the thing leap into nothingness. Instead I jumped forward, but it was quick, too, and within moments it was out of sight again. I followed. It was probably scared now, I could smell it. Then, it stopped. Fast enough that I wouldn’t be able to stop. It moved even quicker, I couldn’t see. And then, two things happened at once: I felt a sharp pain in my right hind leg and I heard a scream. It was, hands down, the most terrifying scream I had ever heard. It sounded like someone was dying. I moved out the way as fast as I could, although with every step I took, my leg hurt more and more. The yelling got louder, too. I decided it would be best to change, so I could take a look at the leg. But there was no way, I was going to be able to do that before the thing was dead. The pain subsided and I realized I hadn’t been paying attention to it at all. I looked up and to my surprise, there it was, leaning against a tree, panting heavily. Wait, I’ll correct myself. There SHE was.

“You’re an idiot!” she suddenly whispers. She, too, holds her leg. “I could have killed you.”

That’s when I decide to morph back. I really don’t know what compels me to do that, but I do. I take a look at my leg first, but it has already healed up. Not as nicely as a cut or a broken bone – after all, a freaking vampire bit me, that’s gotta stay with you for a while – but it’s healed nonetheless. I look at her, and she doesn’t seem to be holding her leg anymore. Her breathing’s calmer now. “What?” she asks with a peculiar expression on her face – like we weren’t a vampire and a werewolf sitting on the woods, having a nice chat before trying to rip each other’s guts out. And all the while, her lips don’t even seem to move. I can understand the legends now. I can understand why people will follow those creatures and get themselves killed, and I can understand why they will do so gladly. She is stunningly beautiful. Her dark brown hair reaches down to her elbows. It’s curled lightly, perfectly framing her heart shaped face. She’s slender, with long arms and legs, yet she has a hint of royalty around her. Or maybe that comes from the dress she’s wearing: white and down to her calves it looks more like a nightgown than anything else. For the first time I see the glimmer to a vampire’s skin; subtle and beautiful it’s a nice contrast to the earthiness she exudes. And then I notice the differences. Her skin isn’t as pale. Her movements weren’t as fast, nor were they all that graceful. She seems out of breath, although the only reason I’m holding mine is because I obviously forgot how to think straight. When I look at that angelic face of hers, I finally realize she’s not like the others. She stares back at me – out of bright blue eyes.


ALTHEA

I can see it in his face. His eyes wander over me and when they finally reach my face I can read him like a book. I can see the dawning realization, the confusion, the fury and I can see all those other things I am afraid to call by their names. “What?” I ask again, and this time I attempt a smile. Under normal circumstances a smile can convince anyone, especially a smile from a vampire. And while I might not be as graceful or beautiful as the others, my smile certainly does the trick. But there is a werewolf sitting in front of me and he averts his gaze. He knows. He knows about what we do, he’s come to take my life. And as much as I’ve wanted this, as often as I’ve already felt the pain of dying under torture, it still scares me. My instincts take over now, finally, I suppose, and without any knowledge of doing it, I start running. I know he is faster than me, and he will have caught up with me in no time, but I suppose my body believes it’s worth a shot.

I come to a sudden stop when I see him again, this time, in front of me. To my surprise, he’s not in wolf form but he stayed human. I try to catch my breath, but somehow I can’t find it – he must have knocked it out of me. He doesn’t move and neither do I. We’re like the snake and the rat, although I’m unsure as to who is who. “What?” he suddenly asks, and I can’t suppress a smile. It’s a real smile this time and the expression on his face changes. “There it is.” He says. It’s my turn to avert my gaze now. In my head, I am putting together a route to escape, although he’s not only stronger and bigger than me, but he is all of what he is and I am just half of what I’m supposed to be. I’m surprised I lasted this long. But after 56 years, one shouldn’t be surprised by anything anymore. “I will.” He answers my mental question as to whether he will kill me now. I stare at him then, accusingly, in the hopes it might change his mind. I stare at the man in front of me, naked, his hair falling into his eyes, his chest barely moving. Every muscle in his body is visible and I hope to whoever’s up there, that he’ll be kind enough to do it quick. I close my eyes when he starts to move and just wait for the pain to come.

…

“I’ll take you somewhere safe.”


JAKE

Day 137

I haven’t heard them for 86 days 6 hours and 12 minutes. I have started hearing her exactly 21 minutes ago.

Her mind is spinning, it’s confusing, overwhelming and it takes all of me to shut her out. I only saw one thing quite clearly. And even though my judgment tells me to bugger off and leave her alone, even though I’m not sure I can stand the smell for another five minutes, I decide for the one thing, I’d never thought I’d decide. I’m going back to Forks.


ALTHEA

That’s when I suddenly hear him. Not just him, not just his words or his breathing or his feet on the ground. I hear his thoughts, his mind; but I can’t make sense of it. It’s too loud, too much, too confusing. All of a sudden it stops. I feel the remains of tears on my cheeks. They feel too hot on my ice cold skin. They feel too alive for the fact that I died 37 years ago. But they make me feel and so I let them run, resisting the urge to wipe them away with my sleeve. I have endured pain for most of my life and for pretty much all of my death, but it is nothing compared to what I’m feeling right now. It is nothing compared to what he’s been feeling.

So when he tells me, he’s going to take me somewhere safe, I trust him. And when he turns around and starts walking I follow him without hesitating. ‘I’m following my mortal enemy’, I tell myself, however, I can’t bring myself to care enough to run away. I figure, if he wanted to kill me, he would do it anyway, no matter where I was.

When the sun sets we reach a little patch between the trees. He stops in his tracks without a warning and turns around. “I usually rest at night.” He says; he doesn’t look towards my eyes, rather to my bare feet between the leaves. “Yes.” I answer, quite stupidly, actually, and stare at the top of his head. It seems like a good place to stare at, considering he keeps his face down now. He looks up and gives me a half smile. “Yes?” he repeats. I take a deep breath to calm me. “Me, this corner,” I motion to my half of the little patch, “you, that corner.” I glare at his face, trying to catch his eyes, but he’s to quick for me. He nods and turns around. And I’ll swear I can hear him chuckle: “You, full sentences?”

4N6 DNA

Great start! I always loved the idea of a vampire biting a werewolf and vice versa! It would be interesting to see if something mythical happens between them following this encounter! Maybe a hybrid?

sweet_zelda

I edited the first chapte, so you might want to read it again
But nonetheless, here's Chapter 2:


ALTHEA

Shortly after he has fallen asleep I have enough time to take a good look at him. He’s so tall, I notice, with muscles defining his body. His hair is of a dark color, maybe black even, and it falls into his eyes. It’s not long enough to put it into a ponytail, though. The fact that he doesn’t wear clothes disturbs me, but I have the feeling that he prefers it that way. For some reason I know that he hardly ever switches to human form and so he wouldn’t need clothes; they would only slow him down. I can hear him breathe now and his chest is moving along with it. His skin is such a nice shade of bronze that I envy him a little. Mine used to have that color, too. The sound of his blood rushing through his veins slowly sings me to sleep.


JAKE

Day 138

I wake up to a giant elephant standing on my head, a glittery something in my eyes and… “God, it stinks!” I yell, before I can stop myself. I can hear her chuckle. “Likewise.” She states simply. I don’t want to open my eyes; it hurts just way too much. Let me tell you something about mind connections. It all sounds fun and giddy, but it’s definitely not. The first few days you get completely overwhelmed with the other’s thoughts, feelings and memories. And then there’s the whole thing where you let someone else in. I mean, there is a way to kind of shut someone else’s thoughts out, to ignore them. But it needs to be shut out actively and trust me, the words active and sleeping don’t go well together in a sentence without a negation. So, here I am, with a headache as horrible as the first time I connected minds with the pack, I’m grumpy and tired and there is the whole vampire issue. Actually there’s this whole issue of connecting minds with a vampire. What a perfect way to start a day.
I think the worst thing about her is the smell. And the fact that she glitters in the sun. Actually it’s a tie between those two things. Seriously, the glitter thing is just creepy and the smell is hardly bearable. Although I have to admit, she doesn’t smell quite as sweetly as the others. But they all smell differently anyway.

When I open my eyes, she sits there, leaning against a tree. She seems smaller today, sadder and actually tired. She tries to smile, but it looks like a horrible grimace, and I sincerely hope now that she cannot hear my thoughts. I’m pretty sure she could hear them last night though. I don’t know how in the world you can connect minds with someone other than a werewolf, with someone other than a wolf from your pack, actually. But maybe I’m just imagining this. Maybe it’s not a mind connection. Maybe it’s her freakish power or something. “Sleep well?” she asks when I stand up, but I refrain from snarling at her.


ALTHEA

Last night must have been the most horrible night in my entire life. And my entire death, too. I only sleep an hour a two at night, sometimes I don’t sleep at all. But last night was different. Last night, shortly after he had fallen asleep, I suddenly felt tired. It was an overwhelming feeling, and now I really wish I hadn’t slept at all. This pain thing has been getting on my nerves. I know that he has a headache, because I have that same elephant standing on top of me. But I don’t know what’s going on and I think, he does.

I feel like now he must know me better than anyone else. He must be able to tell all my secrets, but when I look at him, he doesn’t seem to have all the answers. On the contrary, he seems to still be as clueless as he was yesterday. I don’t know how I can make him hear my thoughts and I don’t dare ask him this question, so I simply try and think about it as hard as I can.

“Why am I in your head?”

After about five minutes he finally turns around and sighs. He stares at my feet again. “I don’t know. Now would you mind thinking about something else?” I gasp in surprise, not only about what he just said. “Who’s Edward?” I ask before I can stop myself. The moment I see the look on his face I regret it. ‘What the hell?’ this other voice in my head suddenly asks. ‘He’s going to kill you and you wonder who Edward is?’ I try to ignore her. “He’s the one I’m taking you to.” He says and his tone doesn’t leave room for arguments or more questions.

When he starts the journey again, I have difficulties concentrating on him. There are so many things I have in my head. What is happening to me? Why doesn’t he just kill me? Can I trust him? Who’s Edward? And who’s Bella? And I think he’s lying to me. He said he doesn’t know what’s happening, but he thought: “Now I know how Edward feels.” So, maybe, Edward has the answer. ‘No.’ I suddenly hear him. ‘Edward doesn’t always have all the answers.’

‘Why not? What are you not telling me?’ I argue back this time. But he gets quiet again and when I try to provoke his mind he simply shuts me out.

sweet_zelda

And the next installment

JAKE

Have you ever met someone who got on your nerves so bad, you just wanted to kill them? I mean, let’s put this whole vampire-werewolf thing aside. Let’s forget that her smell is too sweet for me to bear, that her skin is too pale and that she’s too beautiful to be alive. Let’s forget that she potentially kills humans and probably werewolves, too. Let’s forget that vampires and werewolves are mortal enemies. Let’s forget all that and concentrate the fact that I had the last 56 years of her life downloaded to my brain last night. 56 years of her life, that, weirdly enough, I don’t seem to remember at all. And the fact that she doesn’t stop asking questions. That her mind seems to circle the same questions over and over again. I swear to God. I’ll kill her.
Right after she’s killed me.

The connection doesn’t seem as strong as the one I had with the pact, it comes and goes all the time. But the connection isn’t really severed; it’s only inactive for the time being. I can feel that, I can feel her constantly. It’s weird, it feels different, too. With the pact it feels like you are sharing one mind. As if we were all in one room and that was why we could hear each other talk. But with her it’s something else. It feels like we are actually connected. Like she’s sitting on my shoulder talking to me. And she’s always there, no matter where I go. And sometimes she talks to me and sometimes she just doesn’t.

I wonder whether the connection stays on no matter what shape I take. I wonder why I can’t hear all of her thoughts. This is different, I think. So much different from the other connections. ‘Don’t put me on mute!’ I suddenly hear her. She’s angry, I think, and that’s the first time I realize that her voice sounds different in my head than in my ears. It’s less sweet, less convincing, and more real. I wonder whether this is her power. I wonder whether, maybe, she’s the one who made this connection happen; maybe she’s just freaky that way. Edward was freaky, too, after all. I’m thinking about asking her, but when I turn around to look at her she’s staring at the treetops and suddenly I decide that asking her wouldn’t be the greatest idea.


ALTHEA

We arrive at another meadow by nightfall. All day we have been walking; not running, walking. I don’t think he’s in too much of a hurry. After our fight this morning we haven’t talked all day and it makes me feel anxious. I don’t want him to be angry with me; after all, he could just kill me in the blink of an eye. I watch him as he walks around the meadow, searching for the best place to sleep.

And I notice I’m getting hungry. I haven’t even finished that thought and he’s already behind me, grabbing me and hurling me around. I gasp in surprise, not just about the fact that his hands hold my arms in a death grip but also because his eyes, almost black now, bore into me. I don’t dare move, nor do I dare breathe – not that I’d have to, I am dead after all; however, I just like to pretend sometimes. We stand like that for an eternity; his hands hold my arms so tight that he’d give me bruises if I were still alive. I feel a thought creep into my mind: What if he breaks my arms? They won’t heal, I don’t think. If my arms were broken I wouldn’t be able to hunt, I wouldn’t be able to eat, I wouldn’t be able to fight. If he broke my arms he might as well just kill me right after. I’m starting to think about different ways to kill myself after he breaks my arms and suddenly he lets go of me. He still stares at me out of angry eyes, but I can feel the pain subside and, to my relief, realize that my arms aren’t broken.

Then, without a word he walks away, bumping my shoulder on his way to the place he marked as his sleeping place just five minutes ago. I watch him carefully as he lies down and closes his eyes, never taking his attention off of me. I listen to his breathing and only when it becomes even and deep do I dare sit down. I’m not hungry anymore.