A/N: This is really All the Difference from Alice's perspective. It's slightly more upbeat (in the beginning) than the one in Jasper's POV, mostly because I imagine Alice to be more peppy and optimistic than Jasper (who, in my opinion, is sort of emo). It's a lot longer than All the Difference partly because there's more to before Alice found Jasper in this story. And because I imagine Alice to talk a lot. Even in her head. Ah well. Disclaimer: I'm not Stephenie Meyer, so I don't own any of the Cullens, Twilight, New Moon, Eclipse, etc. Sigh. So I can't earn any money off of this (even bigger sigh). And I don't own The Battle Hymn of the Republic or Stars Over Texas, either; even though I don't know who owns them.
Alice's POV
"There! It's finished!" The last hanger was in place, the clothes sorted by type and length and color; all was perfect. Satisfied, I giggled and looked backwards at Bella from her closet. Much to her dismay, Esme had built it into her and Edward's room as a wedding gift to both of them. It was almost as large as Rosalie's closet; it didn't even approach the size of mine. This fact had consoled Bella a bit after the initial shock of seeing it filled with clothes that yours truly had picked out for her (all of them were pricey designer pieces; only the best for my new sister!)
Bella herself was sitting on Edward's somewhat-recently-acquired (wow, it was almost a year old!) bed, ruffling the spread, with a fearful and slightly astonished look on her face. She really didn't have any reason to be in awe of Rosalie's and my handiwork; as a newborn, she was physically able to reorganize a wardrobe as fast (or faster) than we both could together, but, sadly, she just did not have the prowess or control over all things garment that Rosalie or I had. It was a shame, really: Bella had the ability to do so many things better than any other member of our family could this year, but she was wasting it on being… herself. She was still clumsy (as vampires go) and a bit… boring… but she was still the Bella that we all knew and loved.
"Really, you two didn't have to do that for me!" Yep. She was still the same Bella, the same all-of-you-are-so-great-I-don't-deserve-you Bella.
"Of course we didn't have to, Bella dear, we wanted to!" My voice came out as a musical chirp, a birdsong in the middle of summer. "It was our pleasure." I looked pointedly at my other sister, standing next to me in the closet, my stunningly beautiful, worthy-to-be-a-fairy-tale-princess sister. "Right, Rosalie?"
"Yes, it was fun." Rosalie sounded sincere. She had warmed up to Bella little by little as the year after her turning passed; for that I was glad. Her hostility towards Bella had all but disappeared in the weeks preceding the wedding, and now you could say that they were 'close'. I had a feeling that Rosalie would never be as close to Bella as I was, but that was alright. You're always closer to some siblings than others.
"I'm glad you agree with me; maybe we'll do your closet next!" I smiled at the notion of it. My 'older' sister had the second-best (can you guess who's first?) wardrobe in the house. Rosalie gave me a smirk that said "we'll see". Bella's dark crimson eyes said that she would be fine as long as she could just sit and watch. Bella's eyes said… Bella's eyes…
Bella's eyes were looking at me from the piano bench on which she and Edward were sitting. Her lips were moving wordlessly, turned up into a shy smile. Her head turned to look at Rosalie on the couch, whose head nodded. Both broke into silent smiles while Edward on the bench and Emmett on the couch seemed beyond comprehension; perhaps, we (I suppose I was sitting on one of the chairs) had been talking about something of feminine interest, maybe the reorganization of Bella's wardrobe. I looked down at the watch Jasper had given me for some occasion in the past. It read 3:18. The second hand ticked faithfully along despite the number of years it had been in use. The hour hand remained stagnant in my eyes, which were too lazy to follow its achingly slow movements. The minute hand's travels were easier to follow than those of the hour hand, but I still lacked the patience to… to see it move… towards the… four…
The minute hand on my favorite watch (Jasper had given to me; everything Jasper gives to me is my favorite!) read 3:13, in the middle of the delicately-carved two and three. Where had the time gone? Rosalie and I had started on Bella's closet at around noon, and it shouldn't have taken that long to fix the closet at vampire speed. Then again, I remembered, the last time I reorganized my closet, it took five hours, and that was with Rosalie, Emmett, Edward, and Jasper's help… Maybe I'd have to get rid of some things that weren't in-season anymore… Oh well. Someone was talking to me and I wasn't listening. That was rude.
"Alice? Did you hear me?" Rosalie was scoffing at me again. Even though she had warmed up to Bella in the past year, the stressful atmosphere that came with having a newborn in the house didn't help her haughty disposition at all. If anything, it had made it worse. That was fine with me, though: Rosalie wouldn't be Rosalie if she wasn't that way.
"Hmm?" I tried my best to sound like I didn't know that she was suggesting going downstairs. It was working.
"I said, 'let's go downstairs'. Really, you and your space-case visions… sometimes, between you and Edward and Jasper, I don't know how anyone around here stays sane." I chuckled at this; as I followed Rosalie and Bella out of the room, through the hall, and down the stairs, I found it quite funny that Rosalie was bringing what she was just complaining about into fulfillment. It was alright; she couldn't know. She wasn't 'special', like Jasper and Edward and me.
Of course, Emmett thought Rosalie was special. She did save him from that bear, after all. And they loved each other, that fact was plain; what half of a pair of lovers didn't think that their significant other was the most amazing person in the world? I knew that Jasper and I felt that way (and we were both 'special') about each other, that Edward felt that way about Bella, and Bella felt that way about Edward (though they both thought that they themselves were nothing special at all).
The three of us sidled into the front room, I taking my place in mine and Jasper's usual chair, Rosalie beside Emmett on the couch, and Bella next to Edward on the piano bench.
"So, what have you been doing while we were upstairs?" Rosalie was saying to Emmett. She was all scrunched up next to him, as if there wasn't an extra four feet of space on the couch.
"Well, nothing much, really: Edward's been playing the piano over the TV, but nothing good's been on, so we turned it off anyway. And then we started talking," Emmett was looking at Bella, not Rose; she had turned both of their bodies toward the piano, as if she didn't want to listen to his answer at all. "So, how was fixing Bella's closet?" He pulled a childish grin. "It can't have been that much fun if it took you all the better part of three hours."
"No, Alice and Rose did a good job of it," Bella addressed Emmett with this statement. She inclined her head towards mine, her soft features radiating gratefulness. "All I did was watch. I would have ruined the fun, anyway." She turned her smiling face at Rosalie, who smiled as well.
I looked at my brothers. They were shaking their heads in utter bewilderment, as if the prospect of organizing a wardrobe was something utterly incomprehensible. Boys. They were truly a different species from the sentient females indeed, not to be understood in the least. Once, I'd tried to get Edward and Jasper to explain to me how male feelings and minds worked to produce actions that females would never dream of setting to motion; it hadn't worked. While both of their voices sounded completely rational as they lectured on and on about the subtleties of the male mind, every word that came out of their mouths contradicted the last; there was no logic to anything either of them said. Within ten minutes of their rant, I had given up on listening completely.
Sneaking another look at my watch, I saw that it read 3:18. Another vision brought into fulfillment – one of the countless premonitions that I had seen brought to life in front of my eyes. There were so many of them; I don't think I'd ever gone a day without at least three visions. They were a staple in my life, something to lean against; without them, I wouldn't be Alice. Edward was someone who could relate to me in that sense. If his ability to read minds was suddenly taken away from him, I think he would go insane. And if that gift (or curse) had never been bestowed upon him, he wouldn't be Edward.
I peeked over to the piano bench where Edward was. He was playing Bella's lullaby with his right hand, his left arm wrapped around Bella's waist. Everyone loves it when Edward plays music; it's like when Jasper calms everyone down, or when Emmett tells one of his jokes – the atmosphere in the room just changes. When the music is happy and light, no one can help just feeling better; when the music is sad, you're brought to tears; when the music is loud and forceful, you're riled up and excited.
As of late, most of us had been depending on Edward's music and Emmett's jokes to calm us down. Jasper hadn't been hanging around the house much for the past week or so; the environment there was just so tense with the effort of trying to keep Bella's thirst in check. Indeed, the 'wardrobe organization' activity today had been just that: a way to keep Bella occupied. Most of the time, we couldn't think of anything original to do with her, and everyone acted like dogs out to bite anyone but their own mate. Even so, I would have liked it more if Jasper was around to argue with me; he'd tried to escape the stress by avoiding everyone and hunting frequently. It really wasn't his fault; he thought that he'd magnify the stress, so he became… distant.
With Jasper out, I hadn't been as exuberant as I normally was; that certainly didn't help the house's atmosphere. I suppose that it was partly my fault that he'd been avoiding us, his family: he felt neglected by everyone, especially me. I had to help Edward and Carlisle with Bella, so I didn't have as much time for him; this tore at my undead heart regularly. He'd been sort of… depressed, and it was becoming harder and harder for everyone to cope with the stress with melancholy weighing down on their shoulders. That, of course, circled back round to him, and then he magnified it again. And then he couldn't take it anymore, so he started avoiding everyone. Nonetheless, it was not his fault.
It hurt to think about Jasper hurting, so I decided to look over at Emmett and Rose: they'd provide me with an amusing spectacle to ponder. They were making out on the couch, as I suspected (I didn't bother to check ahead). Really, it was sort of moving, the way that they could forgo all words and communicate everything physically. That, and the fact that you had your own personal PG-13 (or higher) rated movie right there in front of you really made you think. It made you think of what really defined love, lust, and other sappy and overly-romantic things like that. Hah.
Edward and Bella could be called examples of true love: he had waited ninety years just for her; she had willingly given up her whole life to spend eternity with him. I'd seen it coming, of course, but the magnitude of their love impressed me. It had even impressed Aro's friend Marcus, the relationship-seeing freak (really, how did his power work?). Even at the moment, Bella was leaning against Edward's shoulder with his arm still wrapped around her waist. He was playing a different song now, not her lullaby. Even so, it was still a beautiful piece.
Jasper had once written a song for me, I remembered. It was one of those southern ballads, like The Battle Hymn of the Republic or Stars Over Texas. He had sung it to me on one of our anniversaries – was it the 50th? – And if I could have cried then, I would have. It was so heart-wrenchingly beautiful. I didn't even need to thank him – he could feel everything. It was at times like that that I was glad that Jasper had his empathy; it made him happier than he could have been by himself. Of course, when he could feel everyone else's negativity, I felt sorry for him.
Feeling sorry for Jasper was one of my first memories since becoming a vampire; after three days of constant pain, I opened my eyes to see my creator and closed them to see a beautiful, depressed-looking face framed by locks of dripping honey, with anguished eyes and a down-turned mouth. The image of my creator had long since faded after I had ran away to fare on my own, but that face had never left me. Over the years, as I journeyed across America, I continued to see that face. I decided, early on, to search for the owner of that face, and then I started seeing my face along with it, both smiling or laughing or just sharing happiness. Jasper's face gave me a purpose for all of those lonely years – and when I finally found him in Philadelphia, I remember staring into his black eyes, his doleful black eyes, in reality for the first time, I remember feeling hope and love and everything good that I don't think I'd felt since my unremembered human life. He'd brought my first wish – and so many others – into the best form of fulfillment; he'd brought me joy immeasurable, joy that I had never experienced feeling. And Jasper – I could feel him feeling the hope, the love, and everything good when I peered deeply into his eyes… Jasper's black eyes…
Jasper's eyes were brightly red and frenzied as he plunged his dripping hands into the shrinking pool of blood for the umpteenth time. He scooped some up and brought his cupped hands to his lips, hastily sucking every drop in. Points of red slithered down from his mouth as he laughed a wild and feral laugh, the laugh of a madman. His hair was soaked and slicked back along his head, caked with globs of red; the body at his feet utterly unrecognizable after the carnage that he had inflicted upon it. Jasper's clothes were torn and stained, much less than those of the corpse beneath him, but ruined nonetheless. The sky was red, the crimson sun just about to disappear beneath the horizon. Its light was casting a burgundy glow on everything: the trees, the forest floor, all of the clearing's usual green gone. The blood had an eerie gloss to it – flecks of white dancing in a chiaroscuro with Jasper's flailing shadows…
I was out of the house and into the forest before Edward could realize anything.
The sky above the trees was blazing orange; the sun wouldn't set for another few minutes. That was good; if I hurried, I would make it to Great Rocks in time. Jasper said that he would be hunting there; how long ago had he told me that? Was it around noon, before I went upstairs with Rose and Bella? Or was it yesterday, or the day before… Pray that it wasn't, Alice… Pray that he'd said that today…
I was panicking now; how much more time did I have? I didn't want to think about that, so I sped along faster. Would Jasper be alright? I was afraid for him… What would Carlisle do if he found out? No, mustn't think about that either… Happy things, Alice, happy things… Remember, you were having fun with Rose and Bella earlier… But you were neglecting Jasper to spend time with Bella… Don't be guilty, Alice that will only slow you down… Bet you that Jasper's in pain right now, Alice… No, Alice, don't think of Jasper in pain! You'll be in pain and then you won't be able to get there fast enough!
The voices in my head were arguing – why wouldn't they stop? They were distracting me, holding me back – I wouldn't reach Jasper in time! And then I was there…
I could see him standing there, at the pool's edge, his hands shaking and throwing off minute flecks of blood… his hands always shook when he was nervous… There was a dead man at the center, but it didn't look as if Jasper had touched it. The pool of blood was larger than in the vision, and Jasper's hands weren't that stained… Was he going to drink again?
"Jasper, don't do it." I pleaded with myself – please, don't let him drink again. How much blood had he consumed, anyway?
He didn't look at me.
"You aren't going to do it, Jasper." Pray that he isn't… If there is any God watching the eternally damned, pray to him and let Jasper not drink any more than he already had…
I walked up to him and took his hand. It was slightly damp, but most of the blood had dried into a flaky mess. I gripped it. Tightly.
"Jazz, it's alright." I'd better hope – for both of our sakes – that it would be. Whenever Jasper was anything less than content, so was I. And right now, I was feeling a lot less than content.
Leading him through the forest in the dark after the freshly set sun, I tried to send him as much love as I could. He would need it. Looking back at him, I could see the bewilderment in his face, the confusion. Was it that he had felt so little love from everyone lately? I thought back to earlier, when I had pondered my siblings. Could it be that love was absent from our house, that the most positive thing there was lust? That was a new thought… Hmm…
We were already at the house. The lights in the front room were on, piercing the indigo sky a bit. I pulled open the door without making a noise.
I stepped into the same scene I had left: Edward and Bella were still huddled together on the piano bench, and Edward was still playing one-handed, his left arm wrapped around Bella's waist. Rose and Emmett were still making out on the couch. It was all so normal, so typical.
I let go of Jasper's hand and stepped into the kitchen. Taking out the silver cell phone from my pocket, I punched the '4' and waited for Carlisle to pick up.
"Hello? Alice?" Carlisle's voice relieved me. His warm British accent was comforting and familiar. When was the last time I'd heard it? It must have been a few days ago.
"Carlisle? Where are you?" I wanted him and Esme to come home soon.
"Esme and I are on our way home." From where?
"When will you be back?" Please be very, very, soon.
"In an hour or so." That was good. Very good. "What's wrong, Alice?"
"It's Jasper." And the environment here's tense and not fun at all and we want you and Esme back.
"Oh?"
"He went out hunting today. I had a vision of him doing something… bad… so I went to go look for him, and when I got there he was just standing there, doing nothing, by a pool of blood. I think he drank some. And there was this dead hunter in the pool of blood in that clearing in Great Rocks." That wasn't even half of it; he looked so sad…
"He was standing in front of the pool? That must have taken some control… I'm proud of him. But a dead hunter, you say? I'll have a chopper from the hospital go take care of it."
"You'll call the hospital for a helicopter? Okay." I didn't really care about that. I wanted my father figure back.
"Yes. I'll do that right away." Just come home faster!
"And you're coming back with Esme?" I needed reassurance.
"Yes, we're going over two hundred right now."
"Even better. I'll see you soon." How soon is soon?
"See you soon, Alice."
"Yeah, thanks, Dad. Bye." I clicked the phone shut, stuffed it back into my pocket, looked up at Jasper, and slid my hand into his. How did I know he was there? Oh well. It didn't matter, anyway. I just gripped his hand tighter and led him upstairs into our room.
I had to let go of Jasper's hand to open the door. I could feel sadness radiating from him at this; he slumped down onto the floor against the wall. I went to kneel down next to him, sighing.
"Would you like to talk about it, Jazz?" I whispered into his ear, sliding my fingers into his hair, stroking him. He shook his head, slightly displacing my fingers, and looked down at the floor.
"That's okay, then." My voice came out warm and comforting, just as I had intended it to be, just like Jasper needed it to be. I closed my eyes and started humming that song he wrote for me so many years ago.
I continued to stroke Jasper's hair for around ten minutes. With every wave of depression he felt, I tried to feel as soothing and as peaceful as possible. Then, he broke the lovely silence, to my relief. "Alice?" I opened my eyes to see his red ones remorsefully peering at me.
"Hmm?" I crooned, my fingers still twirling through his honey-blond locks.
"I'm sorry." His voice was raspy and pitiful; it was choked and cracked. When was the last time he'd spoken? It must have been at least three days ago.
"Whatever for?" Whatever he was apologizing for was not his fault. Jasper had guilt problems.
"For not talking to you. For making everybody miserable." He shook his head away from me, bringing his hands up to cover his face with his hair.
"Oh." See? How surprising. "That isn't your fault, Jasper. It really isn't anyone's fault. Just don't blame yourself, okay?" I smiled. Jasper could be so obvious, so predictable, sometimes. "Everything's stressful right now, Jazz. That stress is making everybody miserable, including you. You don't have to blame yourself. Bella's year mark is only around two and a half months from now; all the stress will be gone by then. It'll all be fine soon." It would be fine soon – as soon as Carlisle and Esme came back in an hour.
"Will it?" Jasper sounded angry with himself now. Guilt problems, see? "When everyone else gets miserable, I get miserable. And when I get miserable, I project it on everyone else tenfold. It's a vicious circle."
"Still, Jazz, that isn't your fault." It was everyone's fault, really… and everyone includes Jasper… No, Alice, happy things, remember… "And as for the 'avoiding everyone' part, you can't help that." Smile. Smiles are happy. "You'd drive yourself and everyone else crazy if you tried to calm us down. It would hurt you, all that effort. And I couldn't bear that."
"What about you? I don't have to be avoiding you." He still sounded mad at himself; the bitter quality to his voice hadn't gone away. "I shouldn't be avoiding you. It would make everything easier on everyone if I didn't avoid you."
I heaved a sigh. "It's not that you've been avoiding me, Jazz, it's that everyone's neglecting you. With Bella around, we haven't been seeing to you enough, even though you're not the weakest link anymore. Just because someone with bigger problems comes along doesn't mean that our own go away." I should have been guilty about that; Jasper still needed… help… sometimes, but we all were too preoccupied with Bella to see that. It wasn't fair on him at all.
"And we still can't do anything about those problems but try and wait them out passively." Jasper sighed then. He took his head out of his hands and turned to face me. "There is absolutely nothing we can do about it."
I looked into Jasper's eyes; I could see all of his sorrow, his anger – everything – reflected in the red of his irises. It hurt me to see him like that, suffering. And I was suffering as well – Jasper's pain seemed to bounce off the walls to hit me square in the chest. "Do you really think that, Jasper?" If I had the ability to cry, I would have. "Really?"
Jasper hung his head. "Yes."
"Oh, Jasper… Jasper, Jasper…" My voice was cracking. I needed it to be strong and steadfast for Jasper – why wouldn't it hold firm? Jasper needed me to feel good, to feel happy, so he could feel happy as well… But whenever Jasper wasn't happy, I wasn't… I reached up to stroke his cheek, to comfort him and thus ease the ache in my chest as well.
He seemed to recoil a bit at my touch, as if he was somehow undeserving of all that he had. "My Jasper…" What was he feeling, what was he thinking? Did he believe that he was unworthy of my love, of his family's love? "Of course I love you, my Jasper…"
"There's nothing good about me to love." Ah. So I was right. I looked at his strained face, taking in the whole thing, from his tightly-knit brows to his anguished red eyes to his quivering mouth. The sheer depression in it reminded me of that rainy day in Philadelphia, when I'd seen him in the flesh for the first time. After I'd pulled him out of the diner, I'd taken him hunting – he'd looked so thirsty – and I'd seen the completely crushed look in his eyes when we'd killed those two children. That was the same look he was wearing now, every detail recreated perfectly. The memory hurt to picture; another blanket of silence covered the room, smothering us.
"Why do you think that, Jasper?" I couldn't bear the quiet any longer.
"I'm a selfish, bloodthirsty monster who tries to mess around with everyone's feelings." Wow, Jasper really was intent on beating himself and his self-worth to "death". I smirked and prepared myself to take out every single one of Jasper's theories like a gunman shoots ducks in the sky.
"That's not true, Jasper," I said with mock disbelief. "That's not true in the least."
"Isn't it?" He still sounded as if he hated himself. How could we make that go away?
"No. No, it isn't." I smiled again; this time, Jasper tried to force out one of his own. It looked something you'd see on one of those hyenas from The Lion King.
"Give me an example of each and I shall believe you." The "smile" had helped. At least he didn't sound like a suicidal now.
"Well… First, you aren't selfish at all. You try to help people in need of comforting at your own expense. How is that selfish?" I awaited his answer anxiously; this was going to be amusing.
"It makes me feel better in the process." What kind of logic was that? He was starting to sound sort of like Edward and Bella now, and it was getting annoying.
"That isn't selfish in the least. It's a product of helping people. Everyone decent feels better when they help someone." That was true – just look at Carlisle: He likes being a doctor just so he can help people every single day…
Jasper looked down; maybe he felt like he was making a molehill into a mountain and was piling on more guilt on top of whatever he was feeling already.
"And as for being a bloodthirsty monster, you can't help that. It's just the way you are. It's the way we all are." It's true! That's just the way vampires are – Jasper couldn't blame himself for wanting natural food,for doing what his instincts told him. Heck, he looked like a saint compared to the Volturi, who brought in tour groups when they were thirsty. I smiled and started to caress his hair again. "And, Jasper, I love everything you are. If you weren't a bloodthirsty monster, we wouldn't have each other." Another score for Alice: if we weren't bloodsucking leeches, he'd be as old as my grandfather (if he'd even survived the Civil War).
"That still doesn't condone messing around with everyone's feelings." He sounded as if he was desperately grabbing for whatever strings of reason he could see. The strings were slipping out of his fingers like mercury.
"You can't help that, either, Jasper," I said. "And you aren't messing with them. You're improving them, enhancing the atmosphere." I liked the sound of that.
"What about when I toy with Emmett and Edward? Or Rosalie and Bella?" He was trying to pull off 'doubtful and innocent'. It wasn't working; I was much better of an actor than he was.
"That, my dear, is funny." I broke into a fit of giggles. Just thinking of my siblings trapped in the throes of sweet amour made me clutch at my sides. "And it's also a public service when you try to tone down their amorous feelings even a little bit." I could be funny, too: my aim was to get Jasper to laugh. He tried, I could give him that.
"There, now, Jazz, you're happy, see?" I could see it in his face: his eyes were crinkled at the sides, his mouth turned up. I'd only wanted that out of him. Today, his happiness was my only wish. And he had brought that wish into fulfillment.
"Yeah, I guess so." Jasper tried his hand at another smile. This time, it worked, and there was a beautiful rainbow in his face.
"Now we're getting somewhere!" I smiled even wider than I already was. "Would you like to do anything to commemorate your revelation?"
"Not really." He paused for a moment, lost in thought. "Let's go downstairs."
"Sure." I pulled my hands back to myself and leapt up to my feet, swinging around to grab Jasper's arm so he could stand beside me. I opened the door and danced us both through the hall, down the stairs, and into the parlor. As I had known, Edward and Bella were still sitting on the piano bench, playing light and happy sonatas. Rose and Emmett were talking to each other on their seats on the couch; I'd seen them break apart about ten minutes ago.
I pulled Jasper over to our usual seat by the couch and waved my hand, waiting for him to sit. Once he did, I plopped myself down in his lap. Everyone in the room stopped what they were doing to face us – Bella and Edward even came over from the piano and into the next available chair.
"Welcome back, Jasper." Edward sounded relieved and grateful to have his brother back. I thought that Jasper wouldn't be avoiding Edward; in hindsight, it made sense because he was always with Bella.
"I'm sorry, Jasper." Bella gave him a soft smile. She regretted taking me away from him, I knew. She'd apologize in full later.
"Emmett and I are sorry as well, Jasper." Rose looked over at us from the couch. She was apologizing for appalling Jasper with overt displays of affection; she knew how uncomfortable he got when he felt it.
"Yeah, buddy, sorry." Emmett gave Jasper a cheeky grin. "Would you like to hear a joke?"
I was somewhere on the floor, rolling beside Edward. We were both clutching at our sides, engrossed in our fits of hysteria.
That short vision alone was hilarious enough to send me crashing down alongside Edward, who had heard the joke in earnest. It must have been pretty good. Jasper seemed to have felt our mirth, because he too joined in all the laughter. "I – don't – think – you – need – to – tell – it – anymore – Emmett…" It was hard to get all the words out between the giggles.
"Yeah… That was precious, Emmett," Edward was choking. Bella, scowling with Rose, grabbed his sweater and pulled him onto their chair, wanting to hear the joke. She had no avail in her endeavor, however: Edward was too deep in his fit of hysterics to say anything more.
Rose, however, had gotten to hear the joke. Emmett looked pleased with himself, and had gladly obliged to letting her in on the "secret". It was odd, though, that Emmett didn't hop on our little wagon to the Land of Endless Chuckles – he was the one who usually guffawed and giggled and experienced revelry the most. Anyhow, Rose joined his smug smile.
Bella was laughing now; Jasper must have felt sorry for her and sent a wave of amusement her way. The room's atmosphere seemed even happier than when Jasper and I first entered. I could feel the slightly mad edge to the happiness dying away, though, as if we were being sedated slowly but gradually… Jasper. It was good that he was using his powers for good again.
Everyone on the floor had risen and taken their place on their seats, easing their way back into normalcy. Just when the quiet peace seemed absolutely perfect, however, the door opened. It was Carlisle and Esme. Both of them looked like they were dressed up for some smarmy dinner event.
Carlisle's eyes swung around the room to dissect all of us. They passed over Emmett, Rosalie, Edward, Bella, and I, and finally came to a halt at Jasper. I looked down; this confrontation was for them alone, and it wasn't my business to pry.
"Jasper, would you come with me? I'd like to talk to you for a moment." If my heart were beating, it would have stopped. Trying to mask my discomfort, I slid off of Jasper's lap and onto my feet. Jasper followed suit, and waited for me to follow Carlisle.
Carlisle shook his head. "No, Jasper. I'd like to talk to you alone." Jasper sighed and left me with Esme and my siblings.
I watched as Carlisle closed the door to the dining room behind Jasper. It would be rude to listen in or try and look for what they're saying, I thought. I'll just wait for Jazz to tell me later.
Sinking back into the chair, I heard everyone start their conversations back up again. Esme was telling everyone about what she and Carlisle had done on their outing. Apparently, they were looking at some real estate opportunity in upstate New York. It would be a shame, moving away from here; but the werewolves were bound to get fed up at some point, I suppose. We were planning on leaving soon anyway.
Finding everyone else's ramblings uninteresting, I slipped back into thought of when I'd just found Jasper. After we'd sucked those two little girls clean, I remembered, Jasper and I had escaped to some cave and he'd told me everything about himself, and I to him. He'd broken down after describing his time with Maria. I remember how pitiful he'd looked, how sorry I was for him. Then he had said that when he'd seen me, he'd felt something he'd never felt before, something light and wonderful and good. I'd felt it as well, as he said that, when I'd looked into his red eyes. That was only a few weeks after I'd started having visions of Carlisle and his family, I recalled. I remember making the decision to not start the 'diet' until I'd found Jasper. That was a good idea; I don't think Jasper would have warmed up to me as fast if he knew I didn't drink normally…
Lost in the all the memories, I was startled when the dining room door clicked open. Jasper was there. He was wearing the same serene face that I had seen the first time I had closed my eyes after I'd awoken from three horrid days of pain. It was that face that had guided me for nearly thirty years. That face was all I had 'dreamed' of, had wished for. That face had given me purpose. And now, that exact face, reproduced in every way, was right in front of mine. It was all of my dreams come true. It was my every wish brought into fulfillment.