─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙿𝚃𝙴𝚁 12
𝚂𝙲𝙰𝚁𝚂
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
It's no secret that, in her short time on this Earth, Sabrina Swan had lived a rough life; something especially difficult for someone like her who possessed a more gentle disposition. But despite her 'soft' personality, the vast array of blotches and blemishes that littered her body were fit to tell the tale of any brave fighter that had been similarly put through hell.
Sabrina liked to think of her scars as paintings — each one telling their own story. And so, to her, her body was like a canvas full of tales painted by scars — each mark etched upon her skin whispering a unique narrative, a memoir of her short life's diverse chapters.
The faint bite mark nestled near the crook of her elbow, a testament to a battle bravely fought and won; it spoke of her true inner strength and her ability to stand up and fight for what she loved even in the face of adversity.
Another scar, the jagged line that traced her forearm, held the memory of a daring escapade, the great escape from Old Stones — an adventure that colored her spirit with wild hues and gave her her freedom.
Each imperfection painted a story: a tale of love lost, a moment of reckless courage, a lesson learned in hardship. Her scars weren't blemishes but rather an anthology of experiences, showcasing her strength, vulnerability, and the depth of her journey through life.
To her, the scars on her body were spoils of war that she carried with pride. As she would do with her newest set of scars.
"Sabrina, there's no way you're driving all the way back to Forks," Benny said to the girl as she leaned against Bella's orange truck in the middle of the night.
After the incident, once she had confirmed that Emily was alive, Sabrina had managed to escape into the night, leaving no traces of her presence for Charlie to find when he arrived at the scene — the girl didn't need to give him another reason to lose sleep.
She had run aimlessly through the forest, only stopping to throw up once in a while, before she reached the truck. Now, she stood with an old shirt she'd found in the truck, using it to put pressure on the bleeding lacerations that ran from the crook of her neck down the back of her shoulder — a rather awkward position that she couldn't quite reach on her own.
Benny had been horrified by them but, objectively speaking, the wounds weren't that bad. Sure, they were a little deep and a lot sore but they were honestly more like scratches that would be perfectly capable of healing without any stitches.
"Why not?!" She asked incredulously, "You drove our getaway car with a concussion way worse than mine!"
Benny rolled his eyes at his stubborn sister.
"Yeah and I died," he reminded.
Sabrina opened and closed her mouth, frowning as she no longer knew how to argue back after that.
"Fine," she gave up, "What do you suggest we do?"
Benny thought for a moment, taking in their surroundings.
"We're not far from Jacob's house," he noticed, "He could help patch you up and then you can just text Charlie that you guys decided to do a little last minute sleepover."
"Even if that would work, it's still the middle of the night," Sabrina pointed out, "Jacob's definitely asleep by now."
Benny shrugged.
"Then we'll just have to wake him up."
And that's how Sabrina ended up breaking into Jacob Black's house at two in the morning.
Sabrina snuck around the small, cozy red house to Jacob's window, not wanting to disturb Billy. She cautiously tapped on the window, peering into his messy room. It's been a while since she'd been over to the Black's house and an even longer while since she'd managed to convince Jacob to let her clean his room. The place looked like pigsty.
After about the second round of relentlessly knocking on the window, Jacob's sleeping form began to stir. The boy sat up, still half-asleep and very confused. He looked around the room, scanning the mess of clothes, books, tools and snacks for the source of the obnoxious knocking sound before finally turning towards the window right beside his bed.
His eyes widened and he jumped, startled by the sudden presence of a person at his window but calmed as he recognised Sabrina who stood uncomfortably outside with twigs in her messy hair — hair that was strategically placed over her one shoulder to cover up the blood-stained rag she had pressed to her neck.
Yeah, she probably looked like an absolute zombie.
The girl waved sheepishly, flashing the boy a tired smile.
Jacob scrambled to slide open the window, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he leaned against the window sill, not noticing the blood.
"Sabrina?"
His morning voice was deep and husky and Sabrina would be lying if she said she didn't find it incredibly attractive. Her throat suddenly went dry and her heart sped up. The girl blinked, trying to regain her focus — that was definitely not what she was supposed to be thinking about at that moment while she bled out on his windowsill.
"What are you doing here? It's like 2am," he questioned.
"It's a long story," she sighed, running a hand down her face, "Mind if I come in?"
Jacob nodded and backed up. Sabrina, without even a shred of grace, hoisted herself through the window and unceremoniously tumbled onto Jacob's bed and then onto the floor, landing with a thud.
"Owwwww," she groaned, somehow still managing to keep the rag on her wounds as her head swam and her body ached.
Jacob scoffed, fighting a smile from spreading across his face.
"Rough night?" He questioned.
"Something like that," she muttered, voice strained as she tried to play down the amount of pain she was in.
Jacob nodded and offered her a hand which she gladly took.
His hands were warm, a stark contrast to her fingertips that had grown icy cold in the crisper-than-usual night air.
"Thanks," she said as he pulled her to her feet.
"Sure," he said, blinking away the blurriness in his eyes, "So, what were you going to say you were—"
As his vision cleared and adjusted to the room's darkness, Jacob did a double take, gaping as he caught sight of the dried red liquid on her hands and the bloody rag pressed to her neck.
"Holy shit! Is that blood?! Are you hurt?" He questioned frantically, stepping forward to take a better look — his tiredness suddenly gone.
Sabrina winced in pain, peeling the rag away to reveal the tip of the three long, jagged gashes.
"Oh my god," he quietly gasped, turning her around so that he could see the full extent of her injuries, "Sabrina, we've gotta get you to a hospital."
"No! No hospitals!" She quickly began to protest, spinning around to face him so fast that it made her head spin.
"Whoa," Jacob placed his hands on her arms to stabilise her as she swayed on her feet and he guided her to his bed, sitting her down.
"It's really not as bad as it looks," she assured, "But I can't really reach all the way so I need you to help me patch them up."
"Patch them up?" Jacob laughed incredulously, "Sabrina, I can't do that! Driving you to the hospital? That I can do. I mean, I wouldn't even know how to—"
"But I do. I'll tell you exactly what to do and all you have to do is help me," she reasoned, eyes silently begging him, "Please, Jacob."
As Jacob gazed into her pleading eyes, his heart softened, compelled by her desperation and his desire to make sure that she would be okay. He felt her urgency, the raw emotion in her expression and with a gently nod, he surrendered, agreeing to fulfill her request.
He sighed.
"I'll get the first aid kit."
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
"Okay, this may sting a little," Jacob warned, lightly pressing a cotton wool pad with disinfectant on it to her wounds.
The boy sat behind Sabrina on his bed, the girl's sleeve pushed down her arm to expose her damaged shoulder so he could treat it.
Sabrina let out a quiet, almost inaudible hiss but did not move, leaving Jacob looking impressed.
"Wow," he praised, "When Embry's mom did that to him after he skinned his knee, he practically ran away screaming."
Sabrina giggled, the sound made airy as she exhaled with pain.
"Oh that's nothing compared to how Quil cried like a baby when he stubbed his toe," she added.
Jacob laughed.
"Oh, yeah! I forgot about that," he remembered, "They both have a surprisingly low pain threshold."
Sabrina shrugged.
"Some of us are just built differently."
Jacob continued to clean and disinfect the wounds, a comfortable silence falling over them.
"So," Jacob started, ready to address the elephant in the room, "are you gonna tell me what happened?"
Sabrina stared at her hands and sighed.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," she said sadly, thinking back to the events that had unfolded.
"Come on, try me," he prompted.
Sabrina genuinely pondered over the thought.
As the girl gazed at her best friend, her eyes lingered on his soft facial features that the moonlight illuminated — his silky russet coloured skin, his twinkling dark eyes that were set deep above the high planes of his cheekbones and the hint of childish roundness left around his chin that was all framed by his long, glossy black hair — seeking solace and understanding in them.
In the depths of his gaze, she detected an encouraging glimmer, a silent prompt to confide in him about the events of that night. Yet, an overwhelming realization washed over her as she began to remember that he was, after all, just another human, no matter how special he seemed, and the complexities of her experiences were likely far beyond his comprehension, leaving her unable to articulate the truth.
With a heavy heart, she grappled with the profound distance between their understandings, ultimately choosing to remain silent, knowing that some truths are meant to be carried alone.
"I can't," she confessed sadly, "But maybe one day..."
Jacob studied her downcast features. Clearly there was something that she had desperately wanted to tell him but something was holding her back — and it must've been something big because Sabrina Swan was not known for holding anything back, regardless of how strange whatever it was might seem. But Jacob knew Sabrina well enough to know that she wouldn't keep a secret from him unless she absolutely had to.
"Brina, are you in some sort of trouble or something?" He asked with concern.
Sabrina's she shook her head vigorously, almost laughing at the insinuation.
"No, no, no," she denied, "Nothing like that."
Jacob frowned.
"Then, what? Did you pick a fight with a bear or something?"
"Something like that..."
Jacob stopped cleaning and stared at her, dumbfounded.
"I was kidding," he clarified.
"Oh... sure. So was I."
A moment of silence passed by as they sat with that terrible lie and the second they looked up at each other, neither one could hold back their laughter. She may have been able to keep a secret but, boy, was she a terrible liar.
Jacob smiled as he watched her laugh, always loving that sugary sweet sound. Her laughter was the kind that danced through the room like a sparkling stream, bubbling and flowing with an infectious joy that wrapped around everyone like a warm, cozy blanket on a chilly night. It was the kind of laugh you just couldn't get enough of.
These last few weeks, with Bella going through all that she was, Sabrina had been so checked out and distant with him that he'd barely even gotten to have a real conversation with her. But now it was like everything was back to normal again. Just the two of them, hanging out, talking and laughing as Sabrina made some strange, out of pocket requests or remarks and he played along expertly. Yeah, Jacob had really missed this.
After talking him through how to bandage her up, Jacob and Sabrina had decided to call it a night and head to bed, catching whatever little bit of sleep they could — the boy so chivalrously giving Sabrina the bed while he took the floor.
In the morning, when dawn had long since broke, turning the sky from dark, inky black to pale blue and orange, the pair woke up and moved to make their way over to the kitchen for breakfast and tea (coffee for Jacob who insisted that he really did like the taste and didn't just drink it to seem cool and grown up).
Maybe — Sabrina had thought — she'd make Jacob and Billy some breakfast too. After all, she did kind of invite herself in with no notice. It was the least she could do.
On her way to the kitchen, Sabrina stopped by the living room as she recognised two sleeping forms. Embry Call and Quil Ateara lay sprawled out in the Black's living room, both sound asleep in rather awkward positions — one with half his body lying over the one side of the couch as drool dribbled down his chin and the other face down on the ground with one leg suspended from the coffee table, both just snoring away.
Sabrina glanced over at Jacob — who tiredly trailed behind her — with a raised questioning eyebrow. Jacob shrugged.
"We were playing video games."
Sabrina nodded. Looks like she was going to be making a few extra cups of coffee.
A couple hours and multiple batches of pancakes later, Sabrina and Jacob were whooping Quil and Embry's asses at Mario Kart for about the umpteenth time. And most importantly, Sabrina was laughing again. And I mean truly laughing again for the first time since the Cullens had left.
Who knew that some mysterious injuries — and technically some breaking and entering — could start repairing the damage done by such a great a loss.
Sabrina felt better that day. Maybe it was just a bout of happiness amid the numbing placid waters of a looming depression or maybe it was exactly what Sabrina needed to rev her engine and properly get herself back on the road to health and happiness.
Billy Black didn't come home for a while. It turns out that, while Sabrina had been sneaking into his house, he had been leaving after receiving a call from a very distressed Sam Uley as the man sat beside his fiancé's hospital bed.
When asked about what had happened, Emily Young — in her slightly loopy state induced by several painkillers — had told Billy that she had been saved by an angel with eyes the colour of the ocean.
Naturally, he thought the woman was just left slightly delirious from the trauma of the situation coupled with all the sedatives in her system but when Billy went back home later in the day, finding a house full of teenagers, something had caught his eyes.
Perhaps he, too, was slightly delirious from lack of sleep but he could've sworn that he'd seen the faint shape of three massive claw marks peaking over the blue-eyed girl's shirt collar at the top of her neck — marks identical to the ones that Sam's fiancé now possessed.