A/N: Howdy folks! Long time, no see! This is a little holiday follow-up to my award-winning Embrella one-shot from last Christmas, Black & Blue. It's unedited, un-beta'd, un-PR'd, so all mistakes and repetitive, ugly writing and passive voice are on me. :P I literally just finished it less than an hour ago to post it tonight as a Christmas surprise for all of you. Apologies in advance for my rusty writing.

In case you missed it, we're holding a winter contest for authors and artists over on Tricky Raven, called Once Upon A Winter. The link to Tricky Raven can be found on my profile page. Be sure to include my name on the application if/when you sign up to join us on TR and don't leave any spaces blank! Once Upon A Winter features art and one-shots. There are TONS of great categories like Twilight, Marvel, DC, Once Upon A Time, Supernatural, Teen Wolf, The Originals, The Vampire Diaries, True Blood, Twilight Crossovers, Original Fiction, Original Verse, and Original Art and Fanart. The contest is now open and accepting entries for a few more weeks. Come join us; we'd love to see you on Tricky Raven!

Characters: Jacob, OC-Jessa Uley, Bella, OC-Drew, OC-Thad, mentions of Embry

Genre: friendship, fluff (Jacob holds a baby, prepare for exploding ovaries)

Rating: M, for language and adult themes

Prompt: "Her eyes were closed, but she didn't need them." from Tricky Raven's Weekly Fanficton Flash Challenge.

Jessa, The First to Imprint

"You need any help, Jess?" Paul asked his…

Niece? Step-sister…? That shit is going to get confusing real quick, Jessa thought, shifting Colton's weight on her hip as she juggled a drink and repositioned the last of the ornaments arranged by her tiny devils and their new Uncle Quil after dinner that evening.

Jessa sighed. Giving into the need for a bit of comfort, she rubbed her cheek over the downy softness of the baby's head.

Uncles and brothers melding together were about to become the norm with her Lahote siblings' older brothers all but moving in and her newly discovered half-brother, Sam, and his wife, Emily, spending more time at the farm until her older younger brothers finally phased.

Older younger brothers, she scoffed. More bullshit for which to thank their sperm donors, Josh Uley and Dirk Lahote.

Because she refused to use the word "father" to describe either of those two wastes of human life.

She shook her head. "Thanks, Paul, but I'm waiting for—"

The back door swung open with a bang and Jacob Black stomped in from the cold, dusting the snow from his thick shock of jet-black hair. When his eyes met Jessa's, a heartbreaking smile bloomed on his face that turned her knees to jelly.

Amused, Paul cleared his throat and staged a retreat. "I think I saw a couch downstairs. I'll just…"

"Thad's office," she murmured. "Bedding is in the ottoman in front of the sofa," she said, distracted, her eyes held captive in the young alpha's thrall.

" 'Night." Paul's parting word fell on deaf ears as Jacob toweled himself off.

Jessa stared, blinking when he cleared his throat. She came back to her senses, moving around the room to gather up mugs and the remaining mess from the night's festivities. Her mother and Embry called it a night more than an hour ago, retiring quietly to Bella's attic bedroom for a private reunion. They had a lot to talk about.

Then again, so did Jessa and Jacob.

"What is this?" she demanded, cradling her son's back in his worn sling carrier in one hand while deftly bussing the kitchen tables and counters with the other. Steeling her resolve, she raised her eyes to Jacob's. "I mean are we ever going to talk about it, or pretend there's nothing out of the ordinary happening between us?"

For a moment, neither said a word. Then, Jacob's shoulders dropped as he exhaled quietly, releasing tension she didn't realize existed until that moment. Taking a seat at the breakfast bar, he crossed his arms and leaned on his elbows.

"Son of a bitch," he whispered, uncrossing, recrossing his arms. He fidgeted, pressing the heels of his palms deep into his eye sockets as if to imprint there, as if those hands held the answers he needed. "Your mom is gonna kill me."

Those hands. The hands of a man who spent his days working hard for everything he earned—strong hands—framed his forehead as he rested a furrowed brow on his fingertips and massaged his temples.

"Why? What did you do?" she asked, rubbing Colton's back.

The sleepy toddler nuzzled her shoulder, murmuring in his sleep, "Mama…"

"I imprinted," he said simply, as if that explained everything. "When we all met the week before Christmas. You remember that day when you and the other kids came out to Port A to talk about how to help your mom?"

"Yes… The day we met, when we had no idea who Embry really was to Mom."

"The moment we met," Jacob said with finality.

"The way you looked at me…" As if the world fell away and she became the sun, moon, and stars. As if she became gravity itself and he, the moon, circling her, watching her every move, anticipating her every need. As if she were the only person—not just in the room, but in all of existence.

Like Paul and the woman named Rachel. Jacob's sister, Rachel.

Jacob claimed they were only very close friends—best friends, but Jessa saw more. Longing looks, secret smiles—a connection—no matter how they deflected and redefined and explained it away.

A relationship, clear as day and twice as shiny. Denial and true love, all wrapped up in one complicated package.

"Anyway, it's called imprinting," Jacob sounded broken.

"You hate it." She saw it in his eyes.

"No. Not hate." He held a beseeching hand out, palm up, begging her to join him.

How could she resist?

Claiming the bar stool next to him, she pulled a bag of animal crackers from the shelf underneath and held out the open bag—a peace offering.

He tried again. "I imprinted on you—"

Her breath caught in her throat at the devastation in his voice, the watery rim of the eye hidden by shaking hands. She whispered, "You say that like it's final, like it's an unpardonable sin or punishment."

"It's complicated. When we phase—your mom told you about that part, I know—when we phase, our soul fractures into two parts, man and wolf. The two halves exist side by side, but no longer as part of one whole. Like a shard of the soul slips out in the bargain—the price paid for the magic required to phase. Imprinting is when the fractured soul of a wolf finds a missing piece, the only piece in the world that fits, the piece that can mend the divide as nothing else ever will, and the wolf finally feels complete." His soft voice conveyed a wealth of emotions, some sweet, some unutterably painful.

He sounded ... so unhappy. No; resigned. And it was then she realized this imprinting wasn't as simple as feeling like the sunlight in another person's day.

"It's complicated," she repeated, finally understanding. "Your soul seeks balance. You revel in feeling whole again, but there's a price to be paid for that. The imprinted person can still reject you," she whispered.

He chuckled. Unaccustomed joy flooded her heart. That sound. It happened because of her, because she understood—his reluctance, his shame, the joy he didn't yet want to acknowledge. She empathized and realized in that moment how very much she wanted to ease his burden, to make it all okay. And something clicked.

"Soul mates?" she ventured.

Inhaling sharply, he nodded once. "Or so they say, but … I don't … expect anything of you. You're my best friend's daughter. Soul mates doesn't have to mean romantic love. Your mother and I are soul mates in a way, too. Kindred spirits. I didn't understand that when I was younger. Your mother did." He smiled faintly.

"So it doesn't have to be romantic?"

Jacob shook his head.

"Did you imprint on my mother?" She had to know.

He shook his head again.

"Did Embry?"

Jacob froze and Jessa closed her eyes, desperately afraid of the answer either way. Because "yes" meant her mom's choices weren't her own and "no" meant they might never be…

Her heart nose-dived into her belly when Jacob repeated the evening's refrain, "It's complicated."

"How so?"

"Embry did what I wouldn't. His wolf claimed her and saved her life, but he did it for completely selfless reasons. It could have been me, but I wanted her to love me back. I wanted more—to be equals, but she never saw in me the lover she needed. Not like Embry," he admitted, though it pained him, if the deep creases and tight eyes were any indication.

Another revelation. "You loved my mother."

"I still do. Always will. She's my best friend," he said simply, tracing patterns on the marble counter with his finger. "But now I'm old enough to know that not all love is romantic love, nor is all romantic love returned."

A question suddenly flared in her mind, burning brighter than any other, the answer more important than anything, ever.

"Do you love me?"

"No." He chuckled. "And yes. But it's not romantic love, and that's okay. You're my best friend's daughter. I would have loved you either way, but now…"

"It's complicated," she surmised with a tiny smirk.

His head fell back on his shoulders and he laughed at the ceiling. "You have no idea."

"Are you attracted to me?" she ventured, clutching the sleeping baby at her hip.

But Jacob didn't answer right away and she was glad. That he took the time to think about it, to be sure, meant more to her than any unqualified "yes" or "no" would have.

Eventually, he found the words he needed. "You have many attractive qualities. You're bright ... and lovely," he admitted quietly. "You love your kids and you'd give them the world if you had it to give. You're young, ambitious, not afraid of a hard day's work. You want more for yourself and your children, better than you had growing up, maybe more than you thought you deserved. You won't settle for less than you deserve." His eyes met hers and held. "You are so much like your mother, and I know that is probably the worst thing I could say now that you know about my past with Bells, but it's no less true."

"No, I get it. Mom is…" Jessa smiled. "Worthy of emulating."

Jacob nodded in understanding. "That, she is. You're lucky to have her."

"Luck had nothing to do with it, but yeah, I know how fortunate we all are—me and my brothers and sisters. She found us and made us a family—a real one, not the ugly, broken shit we all came from." Bitterness bled through the admission, tainted by the memory of where Jessa came from—what she came from.

"How old were you?" he asked. "When you met Bells?"

"Fifteen, almost sixteen, and already pregnant with Colly. Chloe wasn't even a year old yet."

Her shoulder ached. She shifted again, rolling her head side to side and flexing her shoulder blades to relieve the ache. Her eyebrows winged up in surprise when Jacob reached over to slide the sling from her shoulder. Gently, in those massive, calloused hands, he scooped up Colton and tucked him under his chin against his chest with practiced ease. A soft, rumbling sound followed and Colton settled.

"Me and Chloe took the bus home that night," she began "Her dad—their dad—was too drunk to drive. Violent, too, and nasty with the whiskey in his system. He hid the keys from me while he got drunk with some friends on Christmas Eve at a house party with some distant cousins. I didn't want to be there, but I was out of options. I'd been living with my aunt—my mom's step-sister at the time. My aunt was supposed to be gone the whole week of Christmas. She told me she didn't trust me not to have a party while she was gone and I had to find someplace else for me and Chloe to sleep…" Her voice faded as memories of that night flooded her mind.

The final Christmas Eve of her old life...

Sending up a prayer of thanks to whatever deity threw the social worker, Meg, into her life, fifteen year old Jessa climbed six flights to her aunt's apartment with Chloe tucked safely in the donated baby sling Meg provided the day the baby was born.

Jessa knew she wasn't supposed to be at the apartment, but she needed a safe, warm place to sleep with Chloe. Her aunt was gone for the week and Jessa had no plans to party.

Jessa never wanted to hear the word "party" again, truth be told.

The small suitcase and the diaper bag she packed for the week slowed her ascent. It took nearly half an hour to climb the stairs on her own with the baby in tow and the all-day nausea of baby number two climbing her throat at random intervals to be swallowed down and overcome. Forced to stop and take a break frequently until the nausea abated, she nearly sat down and slept right there on the stairs half a dozen times.

Christ, she could sleep for a week. All she wanted was a cup of tea and her tiny single bed in the closet her aunt called a spare room.

Almost anything was infinitely better than the alternative, though.

Suddenly struck by the quiet on the sixth floor, Jessa finally noticed just how dead it was. Like half the building sat empty. Had everyone gone away for the holiday?

Rounding the top rail of the last flight of stairs, she juggled the bags and patted her pockets for the keys, thumping the suitcase against the linoleum floor as she struggled.

A door creaked open. Mrs. Jensen, the nosy old lady on the other side of the hall poked her head out as Jessa fumbled for her keys.

"Won't need those, girl," Mrs. Jensen's sour voice broke the silence.

Jessa stopped, chills climbing up her spine. "Why's that, Mrs. J?" she asked.

"Pink slips." The old lady pointed to the door across the hall—Jessa's aunt's apartment. "They posted 'em up last week on the seventh floor. Then your side on Saturday. Your aunt cleared out early Monday. I expect our side will get them slips day after tomorrow. The city's doin' it in stages, like, so everybody's not trying to move all at once. Some fancy city engineer came through a few weeks back, said the building's gotta come down. Figured Sally told you since she cleared the place out after you left."

"I didn't leave, Mrs. J," Jessa insisted, fading fast and feeling green. "I was staying with Chloe's dad for a few days for the holiday break. I'm sure the notices are just about a necessary renovation or some letter about the rent going up. Aunt Sally probably got pissed about her rent getting jacked up again, packed her bags, and took off a day early for her trip."

But Jessa was wrong. Like … really wrong.

The door to her aunt's apartment was unlocked. It wasn't even closed. The apartment was cleared out, every stick of furniture gone, even her bed and the baby's rocking swing were gone. Chloe's car seat, too—everything except Jessa's and the baby's clothes and a few boxes of personal items.

She tore through the apartment, startling the baby to stressed tears as she wrenched open cupboard doors and cabinets, checked the empty fridge, and, finally, conceded defeat when she found nothing in the medicine cabinet but her toothbrush and a bottle of infant Tylenol.

Everything else was gone.

"I expect she's in shock," someone whispered in the hallway.

Another voice, "Should we call someone?"

"Who?" another voice demanded.

"The county. She's just a kid."

Then a nasty hiss that should have snapped Jessa out of it, "Child services outta take that baby. Damn girls getting themselves knocked up like they don't know how to keep their knees together these days."

They were right, though. Pregnant for the second time; she was that. Shocked, too; that's what she was.

Appalled.

Abandoned.

Again.

Eyes closed, her throat thickened and a whimper of despair escaped. She cuddled her baby close, sat on the floor, and cried. She swore, she just needed a minute, but she took a few. It's not like it was the first time she'd been abandoned. She could do this. It would be harder this time, but she'd figure something out.

Eventually, survival instincts kicked in. She considered calling … him, but she knew he was in no condition to drive. There was another number, though. The social worker, Meg. She said to call if Jessa ever needed anything—any time of day, for anything at all. She trusted Meg—one of the few social services folks who'd never tried to talk her into giving up her kid. Meg helped her fill out the paperwork for county assistance and apply for WIC, dropped off donated baby clothes and other small necessities, introduced her to the leader of a breastfeeding support group for teen moms, even helped her get a prepaid cellphone for emergencies.

Meg was … good. She trusted her.

If there was anyone she could call on Christmas Eve…

It rang three times before a breathless, laughing voice answered, "Hello?"

"Um… Hi. I need some, uh, help. Um. Is… Is this Megan O' Reilly?"

Laughter burst from the background on the other end of the line. Christmas music played and Jessa felt sick. Meg was at a party. "One sec. Let me step outside," the voice was muffled. A moment later, "Sorry about that. This is Meg's phone. I'm answering her work calls this evening while she takes care of a family emergency out of town. What can I do to help?"

Not "what's your problem?" Or "what's wrong?", but "what can I do to help?"

Jessa started crying again.

"Whoa, whoa… It's okay. Take a breath." The woman took a deep breath, then another until Jessa followed suit. "You're upset and it's okay to cry, freak out, throw shit—whatever—after you tell me where you are and what I can do to help. Okay, honey?" The woman's voice soothed something deep and untouched in the young teen mother.

Jessa tried again, remembering to breathe deep as she explained. "I live with my aunt—lived with. She told me she was going away for the holidays, made me stay with my little girl's dad for the week, but I think she just did it because she got evicted. The apartment is—" She hiccuped. "It's empty. I don't even have a car seat or anywhere to sleep or anything!" Her voice edged on hysteria.

"Shh…" The woman crooned. "You're in Seattle?"

Jessa hiccuped and confirmed her location, relaying the address slowly while the woman wrote it down.

"My oldest sons are going to come with me to help carry your things down to the truck. Will that be a problem?"

But Jessa didn't understand. She said so.

"I just want to make sure you're okay with men. My boys are young, probably not any older than you, but they're big guys and they can look intimidating, if you don't know them. You'll be okay with that?"

"Yes, ma'am," Jessa breathed.

She took a deep breath and the woman praised her, "That's a girl. You just relax. We'll be there as soon as we can and we'll bring a car seat. You just sit tight. You have enough money for diapers, if you run out before we get there?"

"No, but I'm okay. We're okay. I have enough for tonight."

"Okay, we'll be there soon. Save the charge on your phone in case you need to call again or I need to call you if we get turned around or caught in traffic on the way there."

"Yes, ma'am," Jessa repeated.

True to her word, the woman arrived less than two hours later. The gawking neighbors retreated down the hall to gossip by then. Jessa sat on the floor behind the front door with her back to the wall. A woman's voice called out and the door popped open, pulling Jessa from her numb reverie.

"Jessa?" A pair of gentle brown eyes peered around the edge of the doorway, framed by a shock of neon purple hair. "I'm Meg's friend, Bella. My boys are here to help, too. Is it okay for us to come in?"

Jessa nodded, wiping her nose and face on her sleeve.

A handkerchief appeared in front of her, a gentle male voice urging her to take it. "S'okay, I got more," he promised, pushing the tie-dyed hanky into her shaking fist. "I'm Drew. That's Thad." He hitched his thumb over his shoulder at another teenage boy. "He doesn't talk, but he's okay."

"Thank you," she whispered, eyes glued to the hanky.

"Won't take us long," Bella assured her, sizing up the belongings remaining in the apartment. "It's just that wicked walk back downstairs that'll take forever. I called Meg on the way. She'll bring some other necessities by our place for you in the morning, but you're probably stuck with us for a good little while, if you don't mind."

Jessa shifted from foot to foot. "No, ma'am. I don't mind staying anywhere, as long as Chloe is warm and clean. But um… Before you start, um, helping me, I should probably tell you— Um..." She fiddled with a loose thread on Chloe's hat.

"Jessa?" Long purple waves and a concerned face dipped into her line of vision.

"I'm pregnant." Her voice shook. "I'm fifteen and I'm pregnant. Again." She gulped, battling tears and the terror of another rejection. "I've been getting sick a lot, and, um, I totally understand if it's more than you thought you were getting into when you agreed to come get me and all. I was just calling Meg to see if she could get me and the baby into a shelter or something for a few nights until I figure something else out."

"We can find a bag or bucket or something for the ride, in case you get sick again, honey," Bella reassured her. "But you need to understand that you are coming home with me—not going to some drafty, impersonal shelter. Unless you prefer the shelter…?"

Jessa's eyes widened in surprise. "No, I mean…" Her shoulders dropped in self-loathing. "You're really nice. And it's Christmas Eve. I heard— When I called, you were at a party. And now you're here and I wasn't very honest when I called. I didn't tell you everything."

Bella smiled and brushed Jessa's bangs out of her eyes. "That wasn't a party. We just had a few friends over for the holiday. They'll be coming and going all weekend. My teammates and the boys' friends. You get enough teenagers under one roof and there's always music and some game blaring in the background. We'll try to keep it to a dull roar until you settle in; I promise."

"Still, I have a baby and another one coming. It's Christmas and it's a lot of hassle—"

"Hey—" Bella interrupted, brushing Jessa's curls gently, so gently. "Every baby is a blessing. We'll make room. Okay?"

"Okay." Jessa nodded. She watched as Drew and Thad opened flattened cardboard crates with handles and lids, and packed her things neatly in the easy-to-carry parcels. Hefting two a piece, they each made three trips downstairs and out to Bella's extended cab truck with Jessa's belongings while Bella checked each room for anything they missed and helped Jessa gather her suitcase and diaper bag. Drew and Thad returned after their final trip to carry the rest of her things and Bella pilfered a small cleaning bucket from the janitor's closet down the hall in case of nausea on the way.

"Ready to go, kiddo?" she asked.

Jessa's gaze traversed one final time around the tiny space before she nodded and followed the boys out, leaving Bella to close the door on the apartment and the last sad chapter of Jessa's story.

Jacob cleared his throat when she finished relating her story. His cheeks pink, he swirled that same blunt fingertip on the counter. "So that means you're, uh, how old now?"

"Eighteen."

"Oh, yeah." Jacob nodded with certainty, lips pressed together. "Your mom is going to bludgeon me to death with a rollerskate."

"Why? How old are you?"

"Not eighteen," he chuckled, shaking his head and running fingers through his inky black hair.

"No, seriously, Jacob…" she insisted, wondering what he was so worked up about.

His sunny smile and eyes with a hint of cloud cover reluctantly met hers. He held his hand out as if to preempt whatever he thought she was thinking. "Just to be clear—nowhere does it say that imprinting is love at first sight. I am, first and foremost, your friend, someone to lend a hand when you need it, smooth the way when you're struggling. That's it."

"Cut the crap, Jake." Jessa had just about enough of his melodramatic shit. What was so bad about his age that her mother was going to flip her sh—

"Twenty-four."

Jessa blinked.

"Okaaay… That's not so bad," she started to outline for him all the reasons why it was no big deal, but then Jacob spoke up again.

"So is Embry."

"What?" she asked, wondering what that had to do with anything.

"Twenty-four. Embry is also twenty-four."

Jessa blinked rapidly in surprise, exhaling in shock. "But… He looks so much older, so hardened and intense, and, like, world-weary. And angry, or, I don't know... Like he could take your head off if you said the wrong thing at the wrong time."

She watched as Jacob's eyes dropped to the counter. He rolled his lips, biting them in a self-conscious gesture she already hated because it made him look sad. "He really missed your mom. The last eight years have been hell for him without her."

"Why did he wait so long to find her?"

"She left him a note, telling him he was too good for her, that she had to find herself. He knew she couldn't accept him until she conquered her own demons. So he waited, and he grew up."

That, Jessa understood. "I think they both did."

Merry Christmas! I hope you enjoyed my little surprise! Review if you like, folks!