Author's Note and Disclaimer: Don't own Twilight or Jasper. Unfortunately.
Alright. My friend Megan was away, and I know she loves Jasper, so I wrote this as a coming-home present type thing. I hope I didn't butcher Jasper too much x-x.
In one PC on the Lexicon, it's mentioned Jasper had a little sister. So, I explored that idea a bit. I know some parts are a bit far-fetched, like the letter still being intact, but ignore that please xP.
And yes, I cried when I wrote her last letter. Leavemealone. D: Enjoy, all of you! ('Specially you, Megs)
There were times when Alice Cullen went on cleaning sprees. As a rule, she usually did not allow her family to wear clothes more than once or twice, because that was just a fashion faux pas, and as a result, things were looked over and dished out. She went through closets faster than any Olympic runner, though sometimes, she stumbled upon things that were hidden away for a reason.
She had been tearing through her husband's closet (though some of her clothes were in there as well, as her walk-in was jammed to maximum capacity) when she stumbled across the boxes in the back, and had daintily plopped down onto the floor and pulled one forward towards her. It was not dusty (she did not allow dust to collect anywhere), though she hadn't looked through the boxes in a while. A smile lit up her perfect features as she opened the flaps and pulled forth an album, flipping through pictures of her and Jasper's wedding.
Hours flew by like no time at all (then again, so did most days, weeks, and months to vampires. Sometimes even years could seem like mere hours to her), and Alice looked up and blinked when she noted it was almost dark outside. Albums were strewn across the floor -- her wedding album, the several albums from Rosalie and Emmett's multiple weddings, the one from Edward and Bella's wedding, and one that she'd dedicated only to her beloved, Jasper. The pictures in some were very, very old and probably would have fallen apart by this point had she not closed them away in these books with more care than probably had been necessary at the time, though she had done it anyway. She could remember nothing of her human life, and wanted her life as a vampire to be documented through pictures for all of eternity. She had a lot of free time, and making albums was easy when you moved as fast as she did. Besides, she liked designing things, and that was obvious -- the scrapbooks were decorated to the point of it almost being ridiculous, though they were certainly beautiful and tasteful. She would certainly be the envy of all those women that got together to compare and show off scrap books.
She heard a car door, and heard Bella laugh as she started up the stairs to the house. Alice cast the albums a quick look, wondering if she should put them away, but she wanted to continue looking at them after she attacked Bella. Leaving them out for a few minutes couldn't hurt. "Bella! Come try on this new dress I got you!" She whizzed out of the room faster than a humming bird could flap its wings, darting down the stairs to attack the poor girl.
A blonde head peeked into the room a moment later to investigate the damage, and Jasper Hale entered the room with no more hesitance than that. He sighed, though a smile did pull onto his lips, at the sight of their bed heaped with clothing that would be going to charities, no doubt. He had never been materialistic, and even if he had been, he would have learned long ago to not grow attached to clothing. With Alice around, it never lasted long.
He noticed the boxes with books, albums, and various other momentums open on the floor next to where Alice had obviously been sitting, though the one on top of the nearest box was the one that had caught his attention. He frowned, dropping down to sit gracefully (though he could not help that, really) among the things. He lifted the album with ease, slipping his hand beneath the plastic to pull forth the few items lying behind it. Only one was a photograph – so old that, despite Alice's efforts, it was falling apart – of a much younger him before he went off to join the army, with a girl several years younger than himself. He put the picture aside after a moment and unfolded the piece of paper that had been hidden behind it. It was so worn and ripped in many places and he was almost surprised that it wasn't deteriorated. The ink was faded and almost completely gone in some areas, all of this also despite of Alice's care, though he could read what it said still with hardly any problem. Perhaps he had memorized the words long ago, or perhaps his sight as a vampire aided him here. Either way, the messy, unsteady and obviously child-like scrawl was easy for him to read.
Dear Jasper
I miss you. When can you come home? Where are you now? Jasper please come home. I miss you to much. Mama cries alot now and Daddy doesn't smile alot anymore like he used to when you were here. He yells a lot to and I don't like that. Jasper please please come home. I miss you more then I thought I was going to. I don't want you to get hurt or anything by the yankees. I want you here. I want things to go back to normal. I miss my big brother. Please don't get hurt Jasper. I need you.
I love you so so so much. If I could send you a hug I would.
Love Lily
PS Happy birthday
The errors were all too obvious, and the writer had obviously been quite young. It was the first of several letters he had received from a certain Lily Whitlock after he had joined the Confederate Army, just a few weeks after he had enlisted and been sent off to fight the North. She had been nine to his very recent seventeen, if he was remembering correctly. He did remember that he wrote her back almost religiously, as often as he could, and kept her letters even though he had read and re-read them enough times to memorize the words.
For three years he had watched his sister's writing grow neater and more lady-like, and watched as her spelling and grammar became far better. He could not watch her grow up, as he had desperately wanted to, but he could at least watch that much as he flew through ranks in the army. However, almost exactly three years later, things had changed drastically for Jasper Whitlock. A woman named Maria had changed him – more than just emotionally or physically. She had changed him from human to something so much more, to something that made him powerful and unstoppable. Maria had made him a vampire.
Maria had wanted him to help with her war for claims on Southern big cities, and she had seen Jasper's rank and knew that he had at least some decent knowledge of military means. When it was discovered that he had an ability to control emotions of the individuals around him, he was more useful than Maria could have even hoped for.
And that was the very day that the letters to Lily Whitlock stopped.
It had been his job to train young vampires into soldiers, and then kill them after a year or so when they became useless to Maria's cause. A century of this made work that had been once exciting work monotonous, and Jasper grew weary of the work. An old friend, a fellow vampire named Peter, convinced him to leave Maria with he and his mate, Charlotte. Jasper listened to his advice, and left with them.
During that century, however, Jasper had to kill many men. Many men that he had fought alongside with and called his brothers-in-arms. One man had recognized him (despite the blood red eyes and suddenly beautiful and perfect appearance) before he was changed into the one of the frightful beings he was trembling before, and had called out to him and given him a bundle of letters along with a small explanation, though Jasper had paid it no heed until after he had left.
The bundle had been letters from a girl named Lily, or so he had said. He thought he had remembered that name, and then it had hit him, full force. He hadn't thought of a girl with that name in quite a long time, though when he did, he remembered who she was. His little sister. Those letters grew longer and longer, and with a pang he had realized that they were more like diary entries than letters. She mentioned several times that their parents thought him dead (better to think that than know the truth), but she had not lost hope. A man in his regiment (probably the same that had given him these letters) had written back and told her he had gone missing, but promised to deliver the letters to him if they were to ever cross paths. And obviously, she had not given up.
He traveled with Peter and Charlotte for a time before parting ways with them, and found himself in a diner in Philadelphia talking to a tiny girl – well, a vampire – he had never met before in his life (as long as it had been), who had been waiting for him. That was the night Alice Cullen had walked into his life, and changed his existance permanently. He became a vegetarian vampire (who would have thought such a thing existed?) and became part of a coven. Although he had difficulties, Jasper was the closest to happy than he had been in over a century, and had no desire to change things at all.
And now, Jasper Hale (he had taken Rosalie's last name for convenience over the years) reached forward to pull forth another letter, this one in better condition than the first. It was the one dated last – the newest (though it was still terribly old) letter from a long-dead girl named Lily Whitlock. He pulled it out of the envelope, and read it quickly.
Dear Jasper,
It seems strange that I've been writing you for all these years, does it not? Six years you've been gone, and I haven't heard a response in three. I suppose I should have just moved on, as Mama and Daddy have, but I couldn't bring myself to so do. Something inside of me refuses to believe that you are dead, and until I have proof that you are, I will not believe so. I refuse to give up hope, even though it's been six long years since I've seen you, three since I've heard from you.
Dear brother, I miss you more than I can express.
I can hardly remember being that little girl I was when you left – I was only nine, after all. I'm seventeen now, and everything has changed so drastically. I only came to this conclusion days ago, although I should have long, long ago. Strange, isn't it? It's as if I'm just getting insightful now, which would be strange, but better late than never, eh?
The plantation is running nicely still, and Mama and Daddy are still doing just fine. Her depression left after Christian was born and still remains gone, and oh, what I wouldn't give for you to see him! He's such a sweet little boy, always running around and getting into little sorts of trouble. He's nearing four now – how quickly time flies! He looks so much like you, Jasper, it's hard to believe. Mama used to call him Jazzy when he was younger, as I've said in previous letters, though she's careful about that now. Talking about you, even just mentioning your old nick-name, makes that smile fall right from her face.
It angers me so that she refuses to tell him about you. I, on the other hand, tell him stories of our youth quite often, and tell him how brave you were to go off to fight against the Yankees. You're very popular to him, might I add – stories about you certainly do surpass fairy tales in his mind.
I miss you dearly, big brother. It still pains me to think about you, and I do wish you'd write me back. I would give anything to just see a word in your writing, no matter what the word may be. I'd give even more to be able to hear your voice and hug you again. Why did you stop writing me, Jasper? Did you really die, as Mama suspects? Or did you get wounded so terribly you lost your memory? No, no, I refuse to pen or think of these things. They make my heart ache and bring tears to my eyes.
I'm getting married, Jasper! To Oliver Marrinson – do you remember him? He's lived down the street his whole life, and he came and asked Daddy for my hand all proper-like just last week. We're getting married in August, and I can't wait. He's been courting me for years like a real gentleman, and I must confess, I love him so.
This will be my last letter to you, as much as it hurts for me to say that. I must accept the fact that you will not be writing me back anymore, as much as I would love for you to. I would like to thank you for all the joy you brought me when we were children, for all of the wonderful times we shared. Surely, I would not be the person I am today were it not for you.
I love you so much, Jasper Whitlock, and I always will. You're the best brother a girl could have asked for, whether you disappeared or not.
I love you so, so much, and I still wish I could send you that hug.
Love, always and forever,
Lily.
P.S. – Happy Birthday.
He stared at the page for a long moment (or what seemed like a long moment to him) before folding the paper neatly along the creases and putting it back. The best big brother a girl could have asked for? That was the biggest amount of bull shit he had ever heard, in all of his one-hundred-and-five-years. He had been a terrible, terrible older brother when he had stopped responding to her. Vampire or not, he still knew how to write and should have. How much pain he must have caused her! And his poor mother, according to the letters, had fallen into a depression for years before finally being pulled out of it by the birth of her third child – a little brother Jasper had never, and would never, meet.
He wanted to put a pen to paper to write back to her, but he was far, far too late. Lily Whitlock – no, Marrinson – was long dead, and her children would be as well. There would be relatives passed down the line still alive, no doubt, though Jasper did not want to see them. He wanted to see her.
He could see her still, as she had been when she was nine. Long blonde hair set in loose curls and pigtails, her sun dress torn along the hem and dirtied with mud. A bright smile with a few teeth missing and adorable dimples. Blue eyes alight with – no. Had her eyes been blue? He frowned in concentration, trying to remember. They had been blue, or green, or maybe even gray. ..Or had her hair been a light brunette?
He had not thought about his sister in years upon years, and he suddenly felt colder than he had in ages when he realized he could hardly remember her at all. What her voice sounded like, what color her hair or eyes were..He could remember a bright smile and dimples and a torn dress, but nothing more than that.
What kind of a brother was he?
As time passed on, older memories faded – memories of his true flesh-and-blood family. He could hardly remember his father's name or his mother's touch now, but who had been the most important person in his life now faded, too.
He put the items back quickly and slammed the book closed with more ferocity than he intended and was out of the room in a flash. He found his wife with Bella, and leaned against the doorframe. He saw Bella flinch, as his emotions lent to the air around him, and Alice turned to see her husband.
"Jazz?" She asked, concern coloring her tone. "You alright?" She looked from him to Bella. "Do you need to go hunting?"
"Yes," he said simply, giving a curt nod. "I do. That sounds like a very good idea, actually." He bent down to press a kiss to her forehead, and cast her the warmest smile he could manage. "I'll be back soon." And he was gone before she could even say her goodbye.
Jasper had learned to say farewell to his past long ago. But the thought of losing all memories of her was still one he refused to accept.
"Do you have to go?" Came the whimper of the young girl staring at her feet, a Southern accent coloring her words. "Can'tcha stay?"
"I need to go fight, Lil," came the response of the older male, and he flashed her a grin. "Come on, perk up. I'm gonna go beat some Yankees into the ground and I'll be back before you had the chance to miss me, okay?"
"But I miss you already," she wailed, and he sighed, bending down to scoop her up. Although she was eight he still allowed her this, and she clung to him tightly and sobbed. It pained Jasper to see his little sister like this, it pained him to se his mother cry as well, but he had to serve his country.
"I need to go now, Lily," he whispered, gently putting her down. He hugged his mother goodbye and shook his father's hand, and started off.
"Jasper!" He paused when the youngest of the group came running up to him, and gave a gentle sigh as he crouched down near her. "Promise me you'll write," she blubbered, hardly able to breathe. "Promise me, please."
"I promise, Lil."
"I love you," she sobbed, and he nodded, embarrassed by the tears filling his own gaze. He was a man – he shouldn't be crying!
"Love you, too," he said with a grin that he had to force, moving forward to press a kiss to her cheek. "I always will."
"You promise?"
"Promise. I'll love you forever."
