Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight. The characters here are property of Stephenie Meyer, author of the Twilight Saga. Most importantly, this is a work of pure fiction.
Summary: "She sighed. It wasn't enough. She wanted to be an active part of their lives, and I knew it with every fiber of my being." Something inside Alice is missing, and Jasper knows that her human family is the only way to make her whole. The problem: Connecting the two is breaking every rule in the book.
A/N: Two-chapter one shot, hopefully. Maybe a series? Tell me what you think girls.
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Forgetting Family
a short story by HistoryintheMaking
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"I feel like I can't breathe." She said in a soft mumble.
I didn't know whether she was speaking directly to me or to herself. She had a tendency to do that when in a fix –whisper things to herself, like a madwoman but then again not. Over the years I came to notice that these whispers were more like validation to her. Being a psychic, she would sometimes sink into her zone and not notice that she was still physically present in this plane. Whispering to herself would remind her that she was, in fact, feeling something on this plane of existence, and not in her world.
She hadn't let anyone in to that zone yet. Her mind was the uncharted Wild West, and I wanted nothing more than to know what was in there, start a Lewis-and-Clark-esque expedition into the great unknown. I know that I will never be able to do that. She will never let me in. If she could avoid Edward's prying mind, none of us would know what was going on, what she saw. Even around him, she's slightly guarded, protective of the only piece that seems truly hers.
Back to the whispers. There was a certain tone to those calling out to me; those 'I'm feeling vulnerable' or 'I need someone to be with me right now' murmurs. It had the upward, higher-note, questioning sound at the end of each sentence. Like a rope around my heart, they were. I couldn't say no if I tried. Slowly she's opened herself up to me. I'd like to describe it as a flower blossoming, opening up its gorgeous face to the world. But I'm madly in love, and I tend to romanticize things quite a bit.
Alice had curled herself up into a little ball, knees to chest, like her insides were about to spill out into the grass beneath us. The green terrain of our yard had started to pop up again, ushering in the oncoming spring season. The skies were still very gray, as was Forks' fashion, but the satin-like-texture of the grass and the sweetness it carried had coaxed Alice and I outside.
When Alice returned home hours ago it was as if her eyes had been hollowed out. All the soul, the light, the energy had completely evaporated. I instantly knew we would be outside today. It was our thing. Bella and Edward had their meadow. Rosalie and Emmett made love in their bedroom. Esme and Carlisle shared something or other in the study.
We were out here. This beautiful here. Our here.
Once Alice told me that she loved the rolling hill behind our house. She liked how the trees first dotted the yard further down the mound, before completely absorbing it. "It reminds me of my brain," she murmured years ago, when she revealed that thought to me, "I get to look at the windows before the vision completely pulls me in."
Back to Alice. She can't breathe. She's pacing her breaths. In, out, in out.
"The best thing about that is you don't need to," I replied, running my hand across the top of her arm. "You are so brilliant that you defy air! How many people can say that?" A shitty attempt at a joke, granted, but it was all I could think of.
"About three thousand other vampires out there," she answered smartly. "But you're sweet. Thank you."
There was quiet between us. The wind sent a ripple through the grass and caused Alice to turn to me.
"You're quite beautiful, you know," she said. "Sometimes you remind me of summer. Or the sun. Nicholaus has your hair color."
Oh! I thought to myself. So this is the problem.
"You were thinking about them again."
She didn't respond. I had turned my entire body toward hers and sent her waves of relaxation, and easiness. Too much easiness. Like a dam overflowing, she gushed out everything.
"He turned seven years old today. I watched my grandnephew and his wife share a kiss, when Nicholaus blew out the candle. I wanted so much to run up to him, and kiss his little rosy cheek. I wanted to tell Robert how much he has grown, and that his father was the funniest man in the world before the war. And how I remembered his wedding because I was that crazy photographer that coerced his wife into hiring her, just so she could be a part of their special day, and also to check if this chick was good for him. She was, she most certainly was. She was calm, collected, had a beautiful smile. She would balance out my hyper active little nephew just fine. Juuuussttt fine. They are so happy, and she's pregnant, and Nicholaus wants a boy but we've had too many boys, and I would love a gir-"
"Oh Alice," I said to her.
She stopped as if she had been hit by a bus. "What?"
"I hate to say this to you, but you should know better than to visit your human family. Every time you come back from them you just… "
I could feel her energy tighten. A mix of guilt, regret, feeling misunderstood, and anger surrounded us, like a thick black smoke. She was going back inside herself. I shouldn't have said anything, I shouldn't have said anything, I shouldn't have said anything…
"I'm sorry," I said.
She smiled.
"So he's seven years old?"
"Yeah, cutest little nugget you've ever seen. He's got his granddaddy's eyes."
"Green eyes?"
"Nope. Blue-eyed angel."
"And your grandnephew?"
"He's gaining a little weight around the middle, but it's cute."
"Tell me more. But slow down. You've got a mouth like a racehorse woman."
She laughed, a small amount of light reappearing in her eyes. "Is that Tennessee-an for New York speak?"
"Something like that. I'm a country boy, we talk in draaawwlllss. You city girls sure are something."
Alice smiled, perfect white teeth shining like some kind of heavenly sunrise, light coming through full-force. Times like these when I think to myself, goddamn this woman is beautiful. She turned again onto her back, and gazed up at the evening sky. It was becoming dark. The evening was slowly maturing into nightfall, and we could smell the scent of rain brewing above us.
"You miss them a lot. I know it kills you when you can't be with your family."
"What does it matter anyway?" she said sourly, "They won't remember me."
"Course they will. They've probably got some pictures somewhere. Old family photos and such."
She sighed. It wasn't enough. She wanted to be an active part of their lives, and I knew it with every fiber of my being. Though the Cullens provided everything they could for us, and she was eternally grateful, a part of her wanted to remain connected to her human side. Some people have a hard time of letting go of that portion of their lives. Alice was one of them. Being a vampire came with thousands of disclaimers. Note: Cannot associate with the people who are your heart. Warning: Do not reveal existence, pretend to be someone you are not.
This was not enough for her. She needed them. But I couldn't allow myself to give her to them. The hurt, the pain, the realization that they will eventually die and leave her to face discomfort and pain, and the possibility that it would leave her psychologically skewed, was too overwhelming.
Yet there I was, facing this broken-hearted woman with those empty-looking eyes, knowing that I could cause her more damage than good, thinking of ways to connect Alice to her family.
A/N: Reviews are appreciated. I need help with my writing, so anything you guys can offer would be GREAT!
