Chapter 1 - Jasper

The first thing Jasper was aware of when he awoke was the thirst. It was a fire burning in his throat, driving out almost every other coherent thought. It wasn't the same as the fire from which he'd just come. That had been all-consuming, setting his entire body aflame. Every movement, every twitch, every yell or whimper that had been pulled from him only increased the heat of the flames, and his last thought before the fire made thinking impossible was that the too-beautiful woman on the road had not been a woman at all, but a demon, who had dragged him bodily into hell for eternal torment.

This new fire was different. Instead of paralyzing him, it pushed him into action. Instinct took hold and he was instantly standing, searching for the source of the smell he realized was feeding the burning thirst. He located the source immediately and pounced, his hands and arms both restraining and better positioning his prey so that his teeth could sink into the young girl's throat. As the warm coppery liquid filled his mouth and stomach, Jasper was aware of another presence in the room. He spun, his prey still firmly within his grasp, and growled at the intruder, never lifting his lips from his meal. He only briefly wondered at this reaction, knowing somewhere in the back of his mind that this whole situation wasn't right. His eyes locked with those of the pale Mexican woman – the demon who had dragged him to hell. He crouched defensively, instinctively, pulling the human female in his arms closer to his body, some part of his mind registering a crack as one of her bones gave way in his too-tight grip. He continued to growl and feed, but registering that the brunette was standing as still as a statue, non-threateningly. The only thing about her that indicated life was the sparkle of her eager dark-red eyes and her slow even breathing. Even her smile, more predatory than friendly, was frozen in place as she watched what her young creation was capable of.

Some part of his too-aware mind felt fear that he knew wasn't his own, and noted that the fear died with the girl. But this was not something to which he could give attention at the moment. Instead, when he finished feeding, or more accurately, when the girl had nothing left to offer to soothe the burning, Jasper turned his full attention to the statue in the corner. Again, he was vaguely aware that he could feel the excitement of anticipation coming from a source outside of himself. But there was so much for his mind to take in at the moment, not to mention the potential threat that had him still crouching defensively, that he didn't consider what this could mean.

Finally the statue moved. Her arms, which had been crossed, dropped to her side, and she took a cautious step forward. "You did well," she said, her Spanish accent mixing with the wind-chime quality of her voice in an exotic way that sounded richer than he remembered. "But she is your only free one." A hard edge entered the woman's voice – Maria, Jasper remembered her name - "The next one you must earn." She paused for a moment, letting the information sink in, then turned her back on the newborn and headed for the door. "Come," she commanded.

Thus Jasper was introduced to his new life. In the first twenty four hours of his new existence, he killed one newborn, earning him a second meal. In the first week, he killed three more newborns, the last one not earning him a meal because Maria was tired of losing neophytes and wanted Jasper to learn control. In the first month, he killed only one other. Maria discovered he had a very soothing presence, and began training him specifically, to use his talent at will to gain control of the others. This earned him great favor with her, as the number of newborn deaths dropped considerably because none of the highly volatile newborns could remain so with Jasper calming them out of their bloodlusts. He was put in charge of his peers and soon pulled together a unit of fighters that was more trained, more controlled, and more deadly than anything the vampires of the south had yet experienced.

They lost a few in their first battles, but Maria was pleased, regardless, and that was all that mattered to Jasper. Their numbers were replenished, the fighting continued and intensified until, after a mere eighteen months, Jasper was the only one left of his original brothers. The others were continually replaced, trained, and, if they survived their first year, they were usually killed off, no longer useful to Maria. A few lingered from time to time, having proven themselves above the others, like Jasper had, though few of these made it past their second year. They either died in battle or went crazy – burnout it would be called today or, for some, post traumatic stress syndrome. However severe the case, Jasper would end up having to put them down.

After that first year, Jasper's newborn strength diminished, but, with time, other things strengthened. His ability to empathize and alter the emotions of those around him became stronger. This was both good and bad. He could no longer block the emotions of others. He felt everything, both from his fellow vampires, which could prove useful, and from the humans he had been trained to think of as cattle. He learned he could manipulate the emotions of specific individuals, rather than simply blanketing a group with the desired emotion. He also discovered that touch strengthened the connection and, toward the end of his time with Maria, he used it on occasion to put humans to sleep while he fed.

Though he didn't consciously feel guilty about feeding on humans, he became soul-weary and wondered if there was nothing more to his existence than death and blood, greed and power, and, above all, selfishness. At first, he had worshipped Maria, demon though she was. Even evil gods had worshippers and Jasper could claim no purity of heart; no 'good' god would take him. She was his creator, sustainer, and the one who gave him purpose. But after a time, the shine wore off and he saw she was simply calculating, self-centered, and would just as easily dispose of him when he was no longer useful as she ordered him to dispose of the one-year-olds. And that was before the fear and suspicion settled on her. Unable to comprehend Jasper's deteriorating emotional state, she became suspicious of his motives and wondered when he would turn on her, thinking his dissatisfaction came from a desire for more power – her power.

After nearly ninety years of war, uncertainty, and killing at someone else's bidding, it took very little to convince Jasper to leave Maria and never look back. Five years earlier, Peter, one of the few vampires Jasper had ever considered a friend – one of the few vampires Jasper had know long enough to develop any kind of relationship with – fled to save his mate's life. Jasper assumed the two would die quickly. No covens took in strays and, without the safety of numbers, they would not find suitable hunting ground or safety. But Peter returned, alive and well, and with the report that, in five years, he and Charlotte had not once had to fight other vampires for food or territory. The vampires in the north were much more 'civilized' and coexisted peacefully, mostly as nomads, but freely sharing hunting grounds. Peter had known of Jasper's growing discomfort and restlessness with the life he led, so he returned to offer Jasper a way out, and Jasper took it, leaving Maria that very day.

The hunt was an easy one: a family camping in the Pocono Mountains. They were far enough away from the main campsite that no one would hear their cries of distress – not that they would get the chance to cry out. It was perfect. A father, a mother, and their nearly grown teenage son. One human for each vampire.

Once the scent was caught, it took less then a second for the trio to be running, full speed, toward their targets. With the hunt on, Jasper no longer had to think. He gave himself up to his base instincts, the old familiar thirst burning through him and making his mouth water.

Peter, Charlotte and Jasper had recently established a routine. They split up, like the tongs of a fork, so the three would hit their intended victims at almost the same instant. It was a kindness to Jasper, not drawing out the process. The maneuver went off flawlessly. Jasper took the boy, Charlotte took the mother, and Peter took the father.

But despite the bloodlust, as strong as it was, Jasper was not immune to the other sensations that started to take hold. The most potent of those other sensations was fear. While he knew the fear was not his own, it triggered his defensive reflexes and Jasper scanned his environment. With his perfect vampiric vision, he could clearly see everything around him, including the faces of the boy's mother and father. The father wore a mask of fury and shame. Had he the strength to fight, Jasper was sure he would have defended his family to the death. The mother had tears freely streaming down her face and, mingled with her fear, was a suffocating sorrow as her eyes locked with her dying son's. Other emotions mingled with those: regret, confusion, and love. The swirl and chaos of emotion around him filled Jasper, those places he'd left vacant in an attempt to protect himself, and he lost himself.

It was different then giving himself over to the hunt. The one made him nothing like the human he'd once resembled. This sea of emotion that engulfed him now made him most human. With the last beat of the boy's heart, Jasper threw himself away from the corpse, from the firelight, from his friends, and yelled. He yelled at the top of his lungs into the dark night hoping, wishing, it would swallow him, and turn him into the shadow he felt himself to be, that he could be banished with the morning light and suffer no more.

His yell died, as the emotions from the other victims also died; their lives ended. The quiet and stillness that followed was profound. Even his companions had stopped all movement, wary of their friend's unexpected outburst. Empty of the humans' emotions, he could now feel the concern, frustration, and confusion of his friends, but nothing of himself.

Jasper was still as a statue, kneeling with his head bowed. Charlotte approached him hesitantly from behind, not wanting to startle him. "It's not helping, is it?" she asked in a quiet voice. Peter, not far behind her, was tensed and ready to protect her.

"No," Jasper said, his voice sounding choked with emotion. He had left Maria in Mexico without a backward glance, with the expectation that, away from the constant war, suspicion, and tension, he would recover from his despondency. He had been trained to believe humans were nothing but canteens with legs. No one ever concerned themselves with what the humans thought. The only thing that kept them from massacring whole villages was fear of the Volturi. So Jasper never considered that, once out of that emotional cesspool, he would still suffer for killing humans. "I thought it would. But…," he sighed.

"I don't understand," Charlotte admitted. "They're nothing but water, vapor, and dust. Why does it affect you so?"

Jasper didn't respond. They'd had this conversation before, and he didn't feel like getting into it again. In fact, it had been Peter who had pointed out the pattern and brought it to Jasper's awareness. Feeding always deepened his depression for a time. Where once, his… gift… had, at least, been useful, now it was simply a burden, and he felt it driving a wedge between him and his closest friends. It was something they could never understand, never having experienced it for themselves.

Peter tried to assuage Jasper's anxiety with logic. "They will die inevitably. Why does it matter if their deaths serve to sustain us, to make us stronger? They do the same with lesser animals."

Jasper shook his head. "Don't you get tired of it? With all the death we've seen – with all the murders we've committed…"

Peter shrugged. "What else are we supposed to do?" He saw Jasper's face was still twisted with weariness, guilt, and other emotions he didn't think his friend even understood. "It helps not to think of them as people."

"I cannot NOT think of them as people!" Jasper burst out frustratedly. "They're alive! They're sentient! They have hopes and dreams for the future! And we steal that from them… And I feel it all!"

It was never just the fear that Jasper felt. It was everything that made them human – fear, anger, pain, hope, courage, and love. It was everything Jasper was not able to feel. He could remember it in those moments – his own bravery in war, the love he must have experienced from his family, fear of dying.

His time with Peter and Charlotte was not helping. After years of the emotions of others constantly wearing on him, even the emotions of the fragile humans was too much. He felt like a burn victim; the lightest touch ignited every nerve in exquisite torture. That was the night he decided to leave them and travel on his own. Perhaps feeding would be more bearable if he only had to contend with the emotions of a single victim rather than multiple.

Even so, after nearly a year of traveling on his own, he was no closer to relief, no closer to an end to his tedious life than he had been before. All of these thoughts whirled around him, much like the wind on this stormy late afternoon in Philadelphia, 1955.

Jasper walked on the sidewalk, along a now-flooded street, in the pouring rain. The wide street was the main drag of the factory district. Rainwater carried the litter that had collected along the curb to nearby gutters, clogging them, until a small, dirty river had begun to develop. The sky was dark gray with storm clouds and an early evening descended on this cool spring day.

The factories and warehouses were closed, the skeletal weekend shift having left for the day, leaving only darkened windows to witness Jasper's passing. The few workers who typically lingered to chat with buddies were driven to local bars by the storm. Jasper supposed he too should find shelter, if only to appear like the rest of them – the humans.

The continuously swirling wind whipped past Jasper's face and brought with it the scent of a human lingering, for reasons unknown, in this otherwise deserted area. Jasper immediately spotted the man, leaning over his car, hood open. Jasper could feel the man's frustration, probably directed at the machine, and knew he was oblivious to the vampire's presence. Jasper glanced up and down the street. There was no one in sight. No one to witness. And Jasper's throat burned. The venom began to flow in that annoyingly Pavlovian way that made him feel less than human.

As he stepped into the street, his foot sinking into the raging three-inch river, Jasper could imagine how it would play out. He would simply walk up to the stranger. The man would never know he was there until Jasper grabbed him, silencing him with a hand over his mouth. Then he would sink his teeth into the man's throat, drawing blood from where it came fastest and fullest. It would take mere seconds, certainly not long enough for anyone to notice, not in this downpour. He would leave no evidence.

Jasper came to a stop just behind the man. He was reaching his hand forward when the man let out a small curse and straightened, putting his hands on the hood of his car to close it. The man must have caught Jasper's movement out of the corner of his eye, because he startled and spun to look at the silent young man.

"Oh, geez man. You almost gave me a heart attack," the man said. A hint of nervousness touched his voice, but the man was more concerned about his car than the danger of which he was only subconsciously aware.

Jasper's hand innocently retreated, and he cocked his head to the side slightly, listening to the man's heart. It had sped considerably, but it was strong and steady. Despite the spike of fear the man had experienced, Jasper could sense the gratitude the man felt for his timely arrival. "Sorry, sir," he responded.

There was an awkward pause before the man said, "Don't suppose you know anything about cars?" his hope waning slightly when Jasper did not immediately offer to help. "My wife is probably wondering what's taking me so long."

Jasper nodded and stepped forward, leaning over the engine. It took him less then a second to examine the vehicle and spot the problem. He quickly re-connected one of the wires to the distributor cap and made sure the others were secure. He nodded again to the man. "Try her now."

Jasper watched the man climb into his vehicle and turn the key. The engine roared to life, and he gently pulled the hood of the car down to close it. As he did, the man exited his car and extended his hand toward Jasper, taking him slightly by surprise.

"Thanks kid," the man said with a smile.

"My pleasure," Jasper replied, his southern drawl seeping through his speech. He even managed a ghost of a smile.

"You need a ride somewhere?" the man asked, as he took in Jasper's soaked clothes and lack of another parked vehicle nearby. There was a surge of pity as the man took in Jasper's pale skin and bruised eyes. But when the man's light blue eyes locked with Jasper's mostly black ones, the pity slid away and the unexplainable fear crept back.

The man would never be able to say what it was that made him ill at ease around the attractive and otherwise friendly young man. It was just a vague sense of danger, but he couldn't quite shake it either, so Jasper took a step back, giving the man more room, becoming less threatening with distance. In truth, the distance wouldn't matter in the end if Jasper chose to kill the man, but he allowed the man the illusion anyway, trying in his own way to reassure the man that he would not be in danger this night. After all, the man had a wife waiting for him.

"No, thank you," Jasper said quietly, dropping his head shyly. He took another step back before turning away from the man and walking away. It took all the control he had to leave the man alive, but he couldn't kill him now. Not this man. He would have to feed soon, though.

Jasper continued down the street, not caring much where his feet took him. He stared at the ground as he walked, and it wasn't long until he caught new scents coming to him from somewhere up ahead. He looked up. At the end of the street was one of those shiny silver diners with large windows. In the darkening grey of the storm, the yellow light shone brightly and invitingly through the glass. The closer he walked, the stronger the scents became. There were only three or four humans in the metallic building. The smell of human food also wafted to him on the wind. Another scent caught his attention and set his nerves on edge. There was a vampire among the humans, but her scent was somehow very subtly off and this intrigued him.

He stretched out with his sixth sense, easily feeling the emotions of the humans in the diner, but those of the vampire stood out particularly strong. The emotions of vampires were always more vivid to him than humans, but this, too, was something else. He had never felt with such strength the emotions she emanated. Of the emotions he could identify, he felt expectation, and a mixture of frustration and excitement, as if she (and he could clearly see her now through the brightly lit windows) was waiting for something.

His curiosity got the better of him and he decided that this was as good a place as any to duck inside, out of the storm. He was mildly concerned about the temptation of those few humans, but he shoved the worry aside. He had been able to walk away from the other man. Perhaps he could last another day or two.

In a fluid motion, Jasper opened the door and stepped inside. The girl, surprisingly small and fragile-looking for a vampire, hopped off the stool upon which she had been perched, and started toward him. He nearly stepped back into a defensive crouch at her approach. Everything he knew of vampires indicated she would attack him, despite the human witnesses. He was likely encroaching on her hunting ground, given the darkness of her eyes. Besides, the only vampires that didn't react defensively when seeing Jasper where those that knew him well. His mind warned him of both these facts, but something else – had he had a beating heart, he would have said his heart – was telling him that she was not aggressive or threatening him in any way. In fact, she was smiling. It was not like the smiles Maria bestowed on him – smiles of triumph, ownership, and occasionally pride. Rather, it was amazingly warm and open and Jasper wondered for a minute if, by stepping from the shadowed grey land outside and into the warm light of the diner, he had wandered into a dream.

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A/N – I am doing my best to stick as close to cannon as possible. As a result, I'm actually… contradicting the timeline Stephenie Meyer supposedly laid out in correspondence with the Twilight Lexicon. However, (and I may be wrong in my math; for some inexplicable reason, dates are difficult for me) I feel there should be more time between Jasper's transformation in 1863 and meeting Alice (the given date being 1948, but that's not close enough to a century for my liking. I know; a bit egomaniacal on my part). So I put their meeting at 1955, giving Jasper almost 90 years (89 to be exact) with Maria, two years with Peter and Charlotte, and a year on his own. I hope everything else fits properly with cannon.

The story is complete and is 8 chapters long. No worries on the story not being finished. Alas, I will not be accepting any requests (for this particular story ;) ), but if you have questions about the material, I will gladly answer. Also, have no fear, Alice and Jasper will officially meet... in chapter 3.

Also, thank you immensely to my mom - the best editor in the world - and my amici - thanks for being another set of eyes and someone with whom to share my Twilight obsession, not to mention a whole lot of other stuff. Thank you both.