A/N: For some reason I have not quite yet figured out, I shamelessly adore Jasper. I can't really explain why. I just pretty much love him. For the relatively short bits that we see him, he has managed to tug at my heartstrings and make me sigh whenever his name graces the page. If I didn't adore Alice just as much (though in a considerably less amorous fashion) I'd hate the poor girl. :-P
And so, this story seemed to leap from my imagination fully formed and ready for the nearest Word document. Well, all right, I spent most of my work day (my job requires little actual mental activity) thinking about it, but you get the idea.
This is my first foray into the Twilight fandom (though by no means my first fanfic, been writing those for far too long) so be gentle. Please.
Prologue
Biloxi, Mississippi
1919
It was one of those rare days when he was free to move about during the day. It was overcast, though the rain clouds had yet to release the storm they were threatening. It couldn't be much before noon, but from the looks of things it may as well have been dusk.
The streets in this particular corner of town were nearly empty, save for a lone horse-drawn cart waiting for its master at the foot of the local asylum's drive. Jasper moved silently past, ignoring the humans just a short distance away. He had just fed, and it really wouldn't do to draw attention to himself. As it was, they—he and the two other vampires that made up the coven he was, for the moment, a part of—had already overstayed their welcome. They would be leaving soon, probably heading north where they would not have to worry so much about where to spend their days.
Despite his decision to leave them alone, he could hardly help overhearing the humans' conversation.
"You be good for doctors, now, you hear, Mary?" he heard a woman's voice say quickly, sounding, Jasper thought idly as he passed, a bit like someone who thought they had somewhere better to be. "Don't be giving them any trouble."
"Yes, mama," this reply was softer, more resigned.
"Don't worry, Mrs. Brandon, we will take good care of your daughter," came a man's soothing voice.
Later, he wouldn't be quite sure what made him look back, but a long time after, when he bothered to remember at all, Jasper would remember the sight that greeted him as he glanced back up the drive.
A pair of women stood near the front door to the asylum—a large, ominous-looking brick building with bars covering all the windows except those on the first floor—one young, and so small you could almost mistake her for a child, standing on the front steps next to a tall, pale man. The other, her mother, it would seem from the way the girl had addressed her, though she didn't particularly exude any maternal image, stood on the ground next to the first step, clutching a tattered shawl over an equally tattered grey dress. They only vaguely resembled each other—they both had the same black hair, the mother's tied up in a tight bun and streaked with grey, and the daughter's hanging down around her in waves. The mother tall where her daughter tiny, one quite plump—fat, one might go so far as to say—the other skinny and pale.
Jasper turned away. He was far enough removed from his own humanity that he couldn't feel much sympathy for the small girl on the asylum steps. She was just another face among many. Another unfortunate, shuttered away from the rest of the world because of what she was.
A/N: Hmm. I may be taking small liberties here. :-P But it seemed like an interesting way to start. To me it did, anyway.