Title: Pained
Author: TLF
Summary: Jasper empathizes. He feels your pain, because God damn well knows he's been there too. J/B AU
Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Twilight or The Gift by Angels and Airwaves
A/N: I have recently discovered a love for Jasper and Bella. Don't get me wrong, Edward and Bella belong together in the series, but Jazzella leaves a soft spot in just about everyone's heart.
She was beautiful you know. Chocolate eyes, full pink lips, long brown hair, and her sweet, sweet – God, I gotta stop before I sound like a Jet song.
Anyway, she was hell fuck beautiful.
And she was almost mine.
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- There's the strangest excitement today, if you're awake then you're welcome to hear.
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It started out all secret y'know. A light touch here, small caress there, all so equally delicious, and leaving a fire blazing on my skin, burning it all up and leaving the ash craving for more.
Like a phoenix, killed by my own medicine only to be revived again, and so the cycle repeats.
Whether the fire was from the passion I denied at the time, suppressed and smothered, or the heat of her own skin, vivid from the blood pumping between the thin sheets I don't really know.
I like to think it was both, maybe a bit more biased to the passion bit...
God I need a smoke.
Something about vamps not a lot of people know. Cigarettes are just as calming to us as they are to humans, but we don't get the fucky side affects, AKA the "big C", as she so charmingly called it.
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- I swear I'll melt if you touch me at all, but then I'll ask you to do it again and again
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Suddenly it wasn't just light whispers of skin and steel, nor fuck smothering caresses. It was full out touching. Flesh on marble, rock and the petal of a flower, in contact in the most tortuous and beautiful way a rock and petal can touch.
Needless to say, not too damn beautiful, but if Picasso and Monet had a fucking love child, our touches would have been it.
We had to have our intimate moments when they were gone…it left me guilty and pained, but sensuously pleasured at the same time.
I love Ali. Don't for a damn fucking second think I don't…it's just…I love Bella…more?
No.
Not more.
Differently.
With Alice it's all puppies and sunshine, light prisms and sparkles, and with Bella it's depth and brown and pain and passion and beauty and lust and love.
Ali balances me and my constant "PMS" (another one of her endearing terms) and Bella is just…Bella. She doesn't balance me, if anything she tips me way off course, like a damn chunk of space shit flying wildly through the air, crashing into the Earth and pulling out a fucking moon. You can't have the Earth without the Moon.
She was my moon. But hell, infinitely more important.
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-I'll light a path far from here I'll make your fear melt away, and the world we know disappear.
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I don't think they ever really knew. Not that they needed to, at the time.
I don't know how long Edward could fool himself though. He left her, and because of me.
When we came back, she was as empty as a candy bowl at the end of October 31.
Or a human at the end of feeding time.
The light was gone, not that I had ever really seen it before, I had kept too much distance, but damn, I felt so fucking guilty. I knew the light had been there, and because of me it was extinguished.
I had to bring it back, make her the fiery the Phoenix that I didn't even know she could be at the time.
So I did.
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- Oh God I feel like I'm in for it now
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It started real platonic you know? A friendly smile or a short little hug. Nothin' major, nothing worth upsetting Ali or Edward over. Just friends, and in fact I would have thought Edward and Alice were delighted we were getting along, minus Edward's sometimes overly concerned feelings at the thought of me hurting her.
We didn't even realize it, but soon those feelings weren't over me hurting her, so much as it was over just us. Were we too close? Too intimate? Too…loving?
I don't even know. Those lines blurred when I fell so madly in love with her. I don't know when they thought or realized or knew that Bella and I were more than fucking platonic…
It's weird to think of us as ever being platonic; we were so in to each other.
Don't give me that shit. "Bella loves Edward, they belong together!" Yadda yadda yadda. We heard it all before, from Rosalie, from Emmett, hell even Carlisle, but what they didn't understand is that Bella may belong with Edward, but she belongs to me, and not in that creepy possessive way. It's just a fact. When you love someone so utterly and completely, they become yours and you become theirs.
It's good.
It's nice.
It's right.
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- I got a gift and it blew me away, from the far eastern sea straight to here.
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Then they found out for real, when Rose walked in on me with my tongue half way shoved down Bell's throat.
It was hell.
Edward freaked, clawed at me, and fought, but damn I fought back. He forgets that while he may be able to read my mind, I can make him feel indecisive. Is that really what I am thinking? Is it a trick? We bit and scratched like two stone cats going at it at midnight on a fence, but we drew venom and left scars deeper than flesh.
Our brotherhood was broken.
And Alice.
My gorgeous little Ali, though I knew that she was really no longer my Ali, I had cheated on her (I still shudder to think of that horrible word, cheat) just looked knowing.
Damn.
Knowing had resonated off of her. I guess fucked that she had seen this, to which she replied,
"You never had to kill James, Jazz. Rose and I could have taken care of it."
Subliminal and subconscious message I guess. I don't know, that's Edward's domain. I don't play mind games.
We left that day.
Bella cried dry sobs and gave Edward one last kiss that lingered too long for my liking and too short for her as I felt the utterly gut wrenching pain she was drowning in, and Alice and I just looked into each other's eyes, when she finally smiled, "I love you Jazzie, you'll always be my number one." The dam broke then and a gasp escaped her lips, begging me to tell her the same.
Alice will always be my number one, and my salvation, and I let her know as much, just leaving out the part about Bella being my center and reason for being. The reason I needed my salvation.
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- If you ask I will do what you say, all we have is this night to get through.
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I finally had her, and she finally had me, and it felt hell fuck good. We were never going to be apart.
We had plans.
Plans to just get away and escape and be together and fuck and relax and have fun and love.
But life.
Damn, life.
It ripped away my angel; it took my beautiful warm and loving Bella from me. I have nothing left.
Do you hear me?
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- There's the strangest excitement today, if you're awake then you're welcome to hear.
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I screamed out into the night, and my nails clenched so hard in to my rock solid fists that if I had blood ruptures would be bursting from my veins and spilling forth on to the cool and cruel concrete that had taken the most wondrous and amazing and awe inspiring and lovely creature in this entire god damn fucking planet.
The pain tore at my heart and the venom coursing through me tainted by the thick blood of some animal rushed to everywhere and no where at once, stopping at my torso, suspiciously right under my ribcage, a little to the left.
I went on a rampage.
I tracked the mother fuckers down and tore their nails from their fingers and toes, yanked chunks of flesh from their legs and arms, peeled off layer upon layer of bone, using my solid granite nails to slowly separate the white tissue, spongy under my touch, from the mass of calcium and phosphate and marrow, all the while making sure they were alive to feel the torture I was producing.
Hoping they felt an ounce of what I felt at losing her.
Hoping they felt and ounce of what she felt at being lost.
My heart wrenched and I sobbed between the bodies. Collapsing on the ground and curling up to the cement, a dead man on either side of me, yet neither were as dead as I. Physically, perhaps, but emotionally?
No.
I could feel every ounce of pain they felt as I meticulously estranged life from their bodies, I felt every sharp, staggering jolt of fire as bone peeled from itself, and the hiking horror and burning acuteness as nails were slowly ripped from their beds, but none of it, none of it damnit, could equal the feeling of your heart being ripped from your chest and shredded, nor the live wire of agony through every nerve at the loss of your reason for being.
I reached into my pocket, arms trembling, my torso and legs still pooled on the ground between the men, and pulled out my true salvation, sorry Alice.
I strike it once, twice, against the ground beneath me, and dropped it near my leg.
It caught, burning it all up and leaving the ash craving for more.
I needed more.
The orange and red and blue and yellow and heat and heat and so much fucking heat surrounded me.
But all I felt was cold.
I needed more heat.
Burning it all up, and leaving the ash craving for more.
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- But my voice is as lonely as loud, as I whisper the joy of this pain.
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She was beautiful you know. Chocolate eyes, full pink lips, long brown hair, and her sweet, sweet – God, I gotta stop before I sound like a Jet song.
Anyway, she was hell fuck beautiful.
And she was almost mine.
Almost.
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I'll stop the storm if it rains
I'll light a path far from here
I'll make your fear melt away
And the world we know disappear.
Make the world we know disappear.
A/N: What do you think? Constructive criticism is welcomed and loved. I might just type out two alternate endings if you think the piece is worthy enough (One Jazzella, one Jazzalice and Bedward) and it suits your fancy. They will be short, but happy.
