This one shot has been nagging me for months to be written. To be honest, I'm not sure where it came from or what possessed me to write it. It's not something you usually see from me, but I'm hoping you'll enjoy it anyway.
Huge thank yous and hugs to my girls koko23cat and PixieCullen88 for being wonderful enough to preread this for me. Your sweet words and encouragement were an invaluable help in this. I owe you both! :)
1909
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The rain beat down heavily outside, the gray gloomy skies matching the cold, sterile interior of the asylum that he found himself inside yet again. It was a convenient little arrangement he had going with the director of this establishment, a man who had no conscience or emotions, it seemed. He appeared as one with no heart. He never questioned their arrangement. He never seemed to give it a second thought.
This was the third year he'd returned to this place, carrying in the pocket of his thick wool coat, orders for the transfer of three of the patients that resided here. Orders that he'd forged by his own hand.
They authorized the transfer of these residents to a different facility… a facility that didn't exist in actuality. But no one thought to question his credentials. These were the outcasts of society. Those whose names were no longer spoken by their families. Those who had been placed within these walls to mask the shame that their disabilities and mental instabilities brought to those who had chosen to place them here.
It was a hopeless, dark place.
But it served his purpose well.
No one thought to question their disappearances. No one was there to care.
He cringed internally at the emotions that permeated these walls. The hopelessness. The despair felt by those imprisoned here. It wrapped around him like tentacles, drawing him into their depths. But that was nothing out of the ordinary. His world was filled with those very same types of emotions. There was no escape from them no matter where he went.
The short, squatty director rambled on beside him as they made their way down the halls. He only pretended to listen. Much louder to him, screamed the helpless cries, the despondent sobs, the hopeless anguish from inside the rooms. Or, more accurately, the cells that lined the hallway.
People bustled by, going about their tasks, but he paid them no heed. He had a job to do, and he wanted to do it and get out. Quickly.
He gave no notice to those around, ignoring the awed, and slightly fearful, looks they shot in his direction. He was used to that. He was, after all, the consummate predator. Their curiosity, their fascination, was only natural.
It wasn't until a tiny voice cried out that he focused any true attention on his surroundings.
"It's you!" the little voice exclaimed with overwhelmed delight.
He looked at the source, a tiny little girl, appearing to be roughly seven or eight years old. Her eyes were alight with the same excitement that colored her voice, the deep, sapphire blue irises dancing with anticipation.
"Hush, Mary." The nurse wheeling her chair scolded her in a harsh voice. But the little one wouldn't be deterred.
"I knew you'd come! I just knew it!"
"Mary, that's enough. Sit back and be still." The nurse barked, grabbing her shoulder and roughly forcing her to sit back in her chair.
The little girl's excitement dimmed, her blue eyes clouding with disappointment as he made no comment, continuing down the hall. "Jasper?" she called in an uncertain voice.
His steps almost faltered, and he glanced back at the child. She knew his name. No one here knew his name. He'd made sure of that. So how did she?
But he masked his confusion quickly.
The nurse ushered her away hurriedly now. But not in time that he didn't hear the little girl's distressed cries as he disappeared from sight. They echoed in his mind, strangely affecting him though he'd never seen the girl before that moment.
"I apologize for that, Mr. James," the obsequious little director fawned. "Mary always has been a bit of trouble."
"No trouble," he said in a tone that invited no further comment.
The transfer was made quickly then, the heavily sedated patients handed over to him as per his orders. He immediately transported them to the next stop – an underground tunnel where their change was begun. The sedatives quickly became useless as their bodies writhed and contorted in agony as the venom took over their system.
But in his mind, it wasn't their cries he heard. It was the girl's. He couldn't get her out of his mind. Her pitiful little cries, the tears that had streaked down her pale cheeks when he'd turned away. She haunted him. And he didn't know why.
Night fell, cloaking the world in a thick blanket of darkness, and he slipped from his post, leaving the changing newborns in the care of one of his partners. He made no mention of where he was going. He wasn't entirely sure of it himself until he stood outside the heavy iron gates of the asylum he'd left just hours before.
He slipped inside like a wraith, hidden by the darkness. There was no moon tonight, hidden deeply behind the heavy cover of clouds.
His steps were noiseless as he ghosted down the deserted hallways until he stood outside her door. He knew it was her. He could smell her inside. The scent of sunshine and lilacs and innocence. He would recognize it anywhere now.
A tiny heart thrummed steadily from inside, calling to him. But it wasn't her blood that appealed to him. Not this time. It was her. Yet he couldn't explain why.
He slipped inside, hidden in shadows. The little heart beat faster, spurred on by excitement.
"You came back," she whispered, awed. "I was almost afraid you wouldn't."
"You knew my name," he said simply, the question implicit there.
"I've been waiting for you a long time." Her voice was far older than her years.
He smiled. "You haven't lived for a long time, little one."
The eyes that looked back at him in the lavender darkness weren't that of a child. They were of a young woman that had seen far too much for her tender years. "It feels like I have."
"How did you know who I was?"
A smile played at her lips. "I've seen you. In the pictures inside my head. That's why I'm here… one of the reasons anyway. I see things that happen in the future. It's like dreaming. Only my dreams happen when I'm awake. And they come true. People say that makes me crazy."
"I don't think you're crazy," He soothed her. Though, she spoke so matter-of-factly, as if what people said about her didn't affect her at all.
"I know."
"What have you seen about me?" He asked, intrigued by this little person with her wide, blue eyes, so many secrets hidden in their depths.
"You come for me," she said, her eyes warm, the longing there undeniable. "You take me away from here, so I can live with you. You take care of me, and you love me. Just like I love you."
Her voice was certain, not a trace of doubt to be heard.
"Mary…" He began, calling her by the name the nurse had used before.
"I'm Alice," she told him, cutting off his words. "You call me Alice."
"Alice," he tried again, loving the way her name felt on his lips, though he never could have explained why that was. "I don't think that's possible, little one."
"I know it's not time yet." Her voice was sad. She drew her knees up to her chest, resting her chin on them. "I'm not grown yet. I'm still too little."
The melancholy in her words, tugged at his heart. His feet carried him closer to her of their own volition, drawing him nearer to the angelic little being huddled on the bed.
Her dark hair was cropped short against her scalp, curling in little ringlets. Her features were dainty and perfect. She was lovely. A protectiveness he'd never felt for anyone before bloomed inside his chest now. And the heart that hadn't beat in more than a half a century stirred.
He felt the sudden urge to lift her tiny form into his arms and carry her away from this place. He wanted to keep her safe. But he knew he couldn't. The only other life that he could give her was a greater hell than even this one.
He had nothing to offer her.
There was nothing he could do.
She sighed quietly, her tiny shoulders slumping forward. "You're leaving now." It wasn't a question.
"I have to, little one. I'm sorry."
"I know."
A single tear formed, spilling from the corner of her eye. It trailed down her cheek, dripping onto the rough blanket that covered her cot. Her tiny hand reached up to swipe it away, but it was replaced by another. And yet another.
As if drawn by an invisible string, he stepped forward, kneeling at the side of her bed. Her quiet sniffle tore at the heart he'd almost forgotten that he had.
"I'll miss you," she whispered in a trembling voice. "I always miss you."
Gently, mindful of how tiny she was, he placed his hand on her arm, soothing her. She relaxed immediately, not seeming to be aware of the frigid temperature of his skin. She didn't care.
"Lie down, little one," he crooned in a low voice. "I'll stay with you until you fall asleep."
She smiled. And in an unexpected gesture, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his cheek. The innocence of the touch as much as the heat of her human skin scalded him, taking him completely by surprise.
Yet she complied then before he could respond, laying down and tucking one small hand under her cheek. The other hand reached up hesitantly, tracing over his features like she'd done so a thousand times before. Like she had every right to.
And to his surprise, he made no protest, allowing the innocent searing of her touch. He hummed quietly to her as her heartbeat slowed, her body gradually surrendering to sleep. Her hand fell away, joining her other one pillowed under her cheek.
Her breath evened out in the deep cadence of sleep. Carefully, he rose and tucked the covers around her chin, protecting her from the damp chill of the night. She sighed in her sleep.
And he bent down, pressing his lips softly to her raven black hair, and slipped quietly from the room.
A year passed.
His life continued on as always.
He trained his newborns in the art of war, leading them into the fight under his maker's watchful eye. It had always been this way… ever since he'd been changed so many years before. There was no variation to it. The only thing that ever changed was the constant rotation of newborns. The longest any of them ever lasted was a year. If the fight didn't destroy them, then Jasper did, at Maria's orders, once their strength had passed.
It was a living hell.
But it was all he knew.
Yet, through it all, a single face remained in the back of his mind. He couldn't forget her. She was always somehow in his thoughts.
When the year was over, and the newborns from the last rotation had been eliminated, it was time to return to the asylum. He almost looked forward to it this time, knowing she would be waiting for him.
And she was.
He went about his business and then returned during the night, just as before. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for his arrival.
A smile split her face, stretching from one ear to the other, as he slipped into her room. "Jasper!" she cried, looking as if she wanted to launch herself into his arms.
"Hello, little one," he returned her smile without conscious thought. He couldn't help being affected by her happiness.
She'd grown in the last year. She was a little taller, and her hair had grown out some, curling just below her ears. But one thing that hadn't changed was the light dancing in the crystal clear blue of her eyes.
He sat down at the edge of her bed, and they talked. Or rather, he let her talk. He would just as soon protect her as much as possible from the knowledge of what his business at the asylum truly was. She didn't need to know about the hell that was his life. She was much too young for such horror stories anyway. And he didn't want to think about that when he was with her.
Instead, he listened to her, feeling his spirits lifted by her presence and the natural warmth she exuded. He asked more about what she'd seen of him… of them. And she told him readily, painting vivid pictures with her words of what she'd seen for them in the far off future.
And as she did, he found himself wishing that someday it could be for them as she described. He knew that was a vain hope, however. Such a life could never be possible for him. For her sake, though, he wished it was.
The next several years passed in that same manner. He did what was his duty with the newborns, and every year returned to the asylum… always returning to her in the night.
He watched little Alice grow from precocious child, with eyes that seemed to swallow her face, to adolescent that blushed every time he spoke to her. He could feel the fervency of the love that filled her heart when she saw him, and, over time, found himself returning those very same feelings.
Seeing her became the highlight of his year… the one time he felt alive. The only thing he had to look forward to.
She was his only light in a world filled with darkness.
The tender affection he grew to feel for her surprised him. He'd always considered himself incapable of such feelings. But not with her.
Every year, as their time came to a close, she kissed his cheek softly, and he sat by her side, holding her hand, humming to her as her body gave in to sleep.
And every time, he gazed lovingly at her as she slept. He tucked the covers around her. He kissed her forehead with a whispered promise to see her the next year. And then he slipped away as silently as he'd come.
He spent the year counting down the days until he could see her again… just as she did for him.
Each year, they grew just a little closer, just a little more comfortable. Alice was starving for affection, for the warmth of a gentle touch after being locked away from the rest of the world for so long. And he was happy to give that to her.
She never commented on the temperature of his skin, she accepted it without question, seeming to give it no thought whatsoever. And he was perfectly content to wrap her slender form in her blanket, guarding her against the cold, and let her snuggle against his side. He found that he liked having her there.
It had been ten years now since the first time he'd seen her. And in those years, he'd watched her blossom into adulthood. He'd watched the dainty little girl grow into a lovely, desirable young woman. She was still delicate and small, but even in the shapeless gowns that asylum provided, there was no denying that she wasn't a little girl anymore.
She'd grown taller, the top of her head reaching to the middle of his chest now. Her dark hair, with its silky curls, had been cut many times in the years he'd known her, but they'd grown out to reach just under her chin. The one thing that hadn't changed throughout the decade, was her eyes. They still exuded the warmth, the intelligence, the light that they always had.
He slipped soundlessly into her room as always. But this time she wasn't sitting there waiting for him, ready to greet him with the smile that lit up his world. This time she was laying on the bed, her head turned towards the wall.
"Alice?" he called quietly, just loud enough for her human ears to pick up on.
Her head rolled listlessly to the side, one corner of her mouth slowly lifting in a smile. It looked like that act alone took her great effort. "Ja.. Jasper," she struggled to say his name, but her body wouldn't quite cooperate.
His stomach sank as if it had suddenly been filled with lead. Something was terribly, terribly wrong. He knew it.
He quickly strode to the edge of her bed and knelt down beside her. "Alice, what happened?" He cupped his hand gently around her cheek. She leaned into his touch, her breath catching.
"M-missed you… so much," she struggled through every word.
His heart broke into little pieces with every one.
He laid his head next to hers on the pillow, laying his arm gently across her shoulders. He stroked her cheek with his thumb. "What did they do to you, Alice? Tell me," he urged in a whisper.
Her face scrunched in confusion. "I don't remember… I can't remember. But I know I was afraid… so afraid." Her hands clasped at his shoulders, holding him with all her fragile strength.
"Oh, Alice," he groaned, furious at the thought of anything being done to hurt her, and heartbroken at the thought of her being afraid. "I'm so sorry."
"Not your fault," her voice slurred. "Just… so glad you're here."
"Shhh," he soothed her, using his gift to calm her ragged nerves. "It's all right. I'm right here."
She snuggled in closer to him, resting her head in the curve of his shoulder. "Jasper?" she whispered at length. He hummed in response, running his hand over her matted hair. "I love… you."
He pulled back in surprise. It was the first time either of them had said the words. He'd known she loved him… he could feel it. But to hear her say it warmed the deepest, most hidden places inside him. He knew she meant that with all her heart.
"I love you, too, Alice. More than you know."
Her eyes turned pleading, locking her gaze with his. "Then… take me with you this time. Don't leave me here, Jasper… please. I want to go with you."
"Alice," he closed his eyes, leaning his forehead against hers.
He thought about it. For one long moment he truly thought about it. But what kind of life could he give her? To expose her to his world would be a fate worse than death.
The traits and talents of a human were solidified and strengthened in their transformation. He was quite certain that the foresight she possessed now would be ten times more powerful as an immortal. If anyone in his world were to find out about that, they'd covet her… they'd do anything in their power to possess her, knowing what a formidable weapon that could be.
He'd be taking her from one version of hell to another.
He'd be stealing her soul.
And she'd grow to hate him for it one day.
"Alice, I can't. I just can't do that."
She sighed heavily, the warmth of her breath washing over his face. "I knew… I knew that… but I still had to try."
"I'm sorry. Alice, I'm so sorry."
"Not time yet…" she murmured. "It's still not time yet." She bit her lip as tears filled her eyes. And one hand reached up to twine itself in his hair. Her lower lip trembled as she pressed her lips to his… slowly, softly, molding them together.
The heat of her mouth seared him, branding him as hers. He'd never felt anything quite like it in all of his years. He wasn't sure if it was because she was human, and therefore warm, or because it was Alice, but heat boiled under his skin where she touched him, igniting a hunger, a desire, that he had to fight to control.
He cradled her face gently in his hands when all he wanted to do was crush her to him… melding her body to his so that they never had to part again. He carefully controlled his movements, responding to her kiss yet keeping his teeth safely hidden away. He stroked, in feather light touches, up and down the length of her back, drawing her just a little nearer each time.
Her body trembled in a sob, and a single tear streaked down her face, slipping into the seam of their joined lips.
She gasped for breath when he pulled away to press kisses over her tear wet cheeks, sipping the salty wetness from her eyes. Her breathing was ragged, both from crying and from the longing that gripped her untried body. She only knew that she never wanted him to pull away… she never wanted to lose his touch.
She wanted him.
Always.
But she couldn't have him
Not yet.
He kissed her forehead, her eyelids, and her temples. He kissed the tip of her nose and both of her cheeks. He kissed each corner of her mouth. And finally her lips one last time, lingering there for a long, poignant moment.
This kiss felt like goodbye. They both knew that.
"Sleep now, Alice," he crooned into her ear, pressing his cool lips softly against the lobe. "I'll see you again soon."
She nodded and curled herself against his body. This time he didn't kneel beside the bed… he didn't sit on its edge. This time he lay there with her, holding her in his arms, unwilling to let her go. He felt like the moments were slipping away, and he wanted to hold her as long as possible.
Alice rained gentle kisses, soft and fleeting as the brush of butterfly wings, on his neck, his shoulder, his chin, as she struggled against sleep. She didn't want to lose a moment with him. But her body finally won. She slipped into unconsciousness, cradled protectively against his side.
This time he didn't leave when she slept. This time he stayed and gazed at her, committing her precious face to memory… the innocence of her expression even more pronounced in sleep, her translucent lids with the deep purple shadows underneath… her full, pink lips that had kissed him with such longing only a short time ago, parted slightly with her deep breathing.
Every last detail about her, he noted, filling it away for later… for when he wouldn't have her in his arms. He ached at just the thought.
He stayed longer this time than ever before. He didn't pull away until the sun was threatening to peek over the horizon. He stayed until it wasn't safe for him to do so any longer.
Immediately when he released her, his arms felt cold. He missed her warmth. She whimpered lightly in her sleep, seeking him even now.
His face twisted in agony at the thought of leaving her. But he had no choice.
Kneeling down beside her, he tucked the blankets around her chin as he'd done so many times before. He kissed her forehead as he'd done since she was a child. And then, one last time, he pressed his lips softly against hers.
He paused at the door, leaning his head against the frame. Her hands tucked themselves under her cheek as she settled back into a deep sleep.
"I love you," he whispered to her sleeping form.
And then he was gone, vanishing into the night.
The next several months were the worst kind of torture for him. No matter where he was, no matter what he was doing, she was always at the forefront of his thoughts. He couldn't forget how fragile she had seemed – even more so than normal. He couldn't put from his mind her fear and how she'd pleaded with him to take her away.
The more time passed, the more he regretted that he hadn't done as she asked. It made him take a long, hard look at his own life. What was keeping him here? His despondency grew worse with every passing day. He had no light, no life, outside of Alice. So why wasn't he with her now? Why did he continue on like this when it felt like shackles chaining him to the ground?
He was tired of senseless carnage. He was tired of war, of death, of destruction. He was tired of it all. He wanted no part of it anymore.
He was through.
So he did the only thing he knew to do… what he should have done long before. He turned his back on the only life he'd ever known… and walked away.
He fled far away from that life, and turned his thoughts to what he could do for Alice now. He could steal her away from the asylum and make a home for her. He could take care of her and love her. He could pamper her and spoil her as she'd never been spoiled before.
His spirits rose at the thought of having her at his side, not once every year, but every day of every year for as long as her life lasted. He would treasure every one like a precious gift. He would cherish her.
With those intentions, he prepared a home to bring her to, filling it with anything he thought she might need… anything he thought might bring her comfort.
He knew he would have to tell her what he was… there were still so many things she didn't know. Or perhaps she did. She was too perceptive for her own good sometimes. And she'd never questioned his oddities before. She'd always accepted them in stride.
When everything was ready for her, he rushed back to the asylum, eager to see her once again. He wondered if she would be surprised or if she would have seen him coming. It had only been seven months instead of the year's interval that usually passed between visits.
He was anxious to hold her again. And he permitted himself to dream about how it would feel to have her warm little form, her eager lips, pressed against his after so long.
He'd missed her.
He'd missed her so much.
He arrived earlier than he usually did. The sky outside was gray and dreary. A misty rain fell from the clouds that dimmed the sky, just like the first day he'd seen her.
A pained cry, an anguished scream, split the air as he stood outside the gate. That wasn't anything new in and of itself – for his sensitive ears, it was always possible to hear the cries throughout the building. But this time, he recognized the voice.
This time, it was Alice.
With urgent speed, he flashed through the gate and into the shadowed hallways. He was mindful, even in his urgency, to stay out of sight. He followed the sound of her cries, his heart bleeding with every single one.
Before he could reach her, before he could decide how to rescue her, the low buzzing sound that accompanied her cries ceased… and her screams along with it. Short moments later, though it felt like an eternity, Alice was wheeled from the dark, windowless room, her body strapped down to the gurney.
The orderlies rolled her down the hallway, back to her room. Jasper ghosted along behind them, resisting the urge to crush their skulls in his bare hands… fighting with all his might against the red haze of fury that clouded his vision. They'd hurt her. They'd hurt Alice.
Alice was placed back in her room, back in her bed, the door closed tightly and locked.
Jasper waited just long enough for them to disappear around the corner before he slipped silently into the room. Alice didn't stir. He crept to her bed and sat down on the side.
She still gave no acknowledgement of his presence. No sign that she knew he was there.
"Alice?" he called to her in a quiet whisper. "Alice, it's me." He noticed that her heart beat in a faint, irregular rhythm. Her breathing was labored. And her delicate frame looked emaciated. She'd always been small, but now her bones stuck out prominently. She looked like one touch could shatter her.
"Alice?" he called again.
This time, her head lolled to the side, facing him. Her mouth moved, but no sound came out – nothing intelligible at least. There were faint moans and grunts, but that was all.
And then he saw her eyes.
He'd always loved her eyes, so full of warmth and light. She could communicate without words as long as he could see into her eyes, so expressive were they. They were always bright and loving, so full of hope and life even as long as she'd been locked away in this dark place.
But not anymore.
Her eyes were blank now. Clouded and vacant. The vibrant blue of her irises was glazed over.
And he realized suddenly, with the force of a physical blow, that Alice couldn't see.
Alice was blind.
He could have wept tears of blood, so great was his remorse for leaving her here… for not taking her away when she'd begged him to before. He laid his head down on her shoulder and groaned, the sound wrenched from deep inside his soul. "Alice, I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry."
Her body moved in jerky, uncontrolled movements as if she had little or no control over them. Her arm raised up, as if she was trying to touch him. But she couldn't quite make her body cooperate.
He took her seeking hand in his and gently kissed her fingers. He placed her hand against his stone cheek and leaned against her palm, feeling that it was much colder than her usual vibrant warmth.
"Alice," he leaned down to whisper in her ear, "I'm getting you out of here. I'm taking you away… just like I should have done before."
Her involuntary movements became more agitated, her limbs stiffening.
"I'm going to help you, Alice. You may hate me for it afterward, but I can't leave you here. I can't."
But after he spoke, he realized that her tensing wasn't due to his presence. It had nothing to do with him. Her limbs went rigid, her back arching off the bed, as her body seized in a convulsion.
He moved quickly out of the way, knowing that if she struck any of her limbs against him, they would break, so fragile was she. He watched helplessly as her seizure continued. Her muscles contracted violently, her jaw locked. He could smell the blood that spilled from where she bit through her cheek.
She gasped for breath, her pale, translucent skin taking on a bluish tint from the lack of oxygen.
Jasper moved to the head of the bed and placed his hand gently on the crown of her head, needing desperately to try to do something for her, but feeling utterly helpless as to how. He tried to calm her, sending a wave of serenity through his fingertips. But it had no effect.
It went on and on… two minutes… three then four… five minutes…
And finally it stopped.
Her body collapsed on the bed, a trickle of blood seeping from the corner of her mouth. Cautiously, he touched her face. But there was no response. She was completely unconscious.
Carefully, so very carefully, he swaddled her gaunt, wasted form in the blanket and lifted her into his arms. He cradled her like a helpless infant against his chest. And ran with her.
He fled from the asylum, hunching his body around hers, shielding her tiny frame as much as possible from the whipping rain and the chill of the wind. She never noticed. Her eyes never opened.
Alice's breathing grew more labored as the moments passed. He could hear the fluid gathered in her lungs, giving each breath a raspy sound. He knew she didn't have much longer. If the violence of the seizures didn't kill her, pneumonia would be the final blow that would.
He ran all the way to the little cottage he'd prepared for them. Alice never once stirred in his arms. He threw open the door and hurried inside. He laid her in the middle of the bed, stripping away the cold, wet blanket, and wrapped her up in of the blankets he'd had prepared for her… one much softer than any she'd had the luxury of in many, many years.
He tossed some logs in the hearth and lit a match, knowing he needed to warm her shivering frame. Her lips were still tinged with blue, her body much cooler than it should be.
Once the fire leapt to life, filling the room with its warmth and glow, Jasper knelt beside her, brushing her matted, unkempt hair away from her forehead. He kissed her temple and then the tip of her nose.
"I'm going to make it better, Alice. But I'm going to have to hurt you at first. I'm sorry," he whispered in a broken voice at her ear. "Please don't hate me for this."
He knew the only thing he could do. If he didn't want to lose her forever, he had to act now. And losing her wasn't something he even cared to consider. He needed her. The world held nothing for him if she weren't in it.
She didn't move as he gently kissed the pulse point in her neck. He felt its faint, weak throbbing against his lips. Venom pooled in his mouth, an instinctive reaction to the scent of blood so very near.
His teeth slid effortlessly through her skin at the artery, and blood filled his mouth. It didn't taste right, though. It tasted weak. He could taste her sickness.
He thought of the very first time he'd seen her… the bright, vivid blue eyes filled with excitement that he'd come for her at last. Her tiny, childish voice as they'd talked that night… as she'd stolen his heart even then.
He swiped his tongue over the wound at her neck, sealing it, and went to the other side, repeating the process. She was small. The more venom he could get in her system, the quicker her change would take place.
She made no response, not a moan, not a grunt, nothing, as he bit into the left side of her neck, feeling the pulses of blood coat his tongue once more.
He thought of all the times he'd visited her. All the times he'd sat with her as she told him of her visions, of how she held his hand, starving for a loving touch. How she'd accepted the coldness of his skin with no comment. How she'd accepted him without question even though she'd never truly seen him. Only in her visions. Only the one time, the very first time, he'd passed her in the hallway. Yet she loved him regardless.
He sealed that wound as well and reached for her wrists. He released his venom into her radial arteries and then higher up her arms, above her elbows, in both brachial arteries. The more venom he could get into her body, the better it would be.
Her heart was beating more sluggishly now, her blood thicker because of the venom. He knew her change had begun, yet she made not a sound.
When he had done all he could, he gathered a basin of warm water and bathed her body gently. He couldn't help seeing the bruises marring her tender skin. The way her ribs protruded from her midsection. She was painfully thin. Her body was gaunt and wasted. And her skin had a sickly yellow color.
He cleaned her body lovingly, with careful strokes of the cloth. He tucked her gently in the blanket when he was done. Of all the things he'd prepared for her in the little cottage, a robe was not something he'd thought of. So he took one of his own shirts and wrapped her tiny frame in that.
When he'd finished, he laid down beside her and curved his body around her still one. She hadn't moved. Not even once.
He stroked her cheek, listening to the thick, sluggish beats of her heart. Slowly, he could see the effects of the venom working on her body. Her skin lost its jaundiced color, and the bruises faded into the pale, opalescent sheen of immortal skin.
Her hair lost its matted, dull texture, taking on a glossy, dark sheen. Her lips took on a rich pink hue. Slowly, her body filled back out, losing its emaciated appearance. She was still slight of form, but her bones no longer protruded. He could feel the suppleness of her curves returning as her body changed.
A full day passed.
And a long night after it.
Another day.
Another endless night.
As the sun rose on the third morning, Jasper knew her change was almost complete.
And she was unutterably beautiful.
But not once had she stirred throughout the process.
Would she remember him, he wondered? Would she hate him for letting her be hurt… for not taking her away before? Would she even remember anything at all?
He knew he should move away… he should give her space. He knew all too well how unstable newborns could be, and he had no idea what to expect when she awoke.
But he didn't.
If she was angry, if she hated him, then he wouldn't try to restrain her. He deserved anything that she might say or do. But for now, for as long as he was allowed, he wanted to hold her.
Eventually, he heard the rapid, flying thrum of her heart which signaled the end of her change.
And, finally, it ceased, becoming as still and silent as she.
He lay there motionless as silence filled the cabin.
Finally, her chest rose and fell in a single breath. Her head rolled to the side towards him.
And her eyes fluttered open.
His breath caught. No longer were they the iridescent sapphire blue that he loved so much. They were a crimson red that matched his own.
Her eyes were blank as they regarded him, their faces so close that their noses almost brushed.
He wondered if she remembered him… if she recognized him now that her immortal eyes could see the thickly layered scars on his body that would have been invisible to her human eyes.
He waited. And waited.
Her lips lifted in a tender smile, and the familiar light that he had longed for filled her eyes at last.
"Jasper," she breathed, slowly raising her hand to stroke his face, awe and wonder in eyes and voice. "I knew you'd come. I always knew you'd come."
He covered her small hand with his, leaning into her touch. "I'm sorry it took me so long," he whispered in a repentant voice.
She shook her head, her other hand reaching up to tangle in his hair. Her nose nudged against his. Their breath mingled.
"I'm like you now," she breathed as she touched her lips lightly to his.
Surprise made him pull back, searching her eyes.
She knew.
"I've always known, Jasper." She stroked along the shell of his ear. "I just had to wait for the right time to become like you." A tender smile lit her eyes. "You kept me waiting long enough."
He laughed, though it sounded like a sob, and buried his head in the fragrant skin of her neck.
Sunshine and lilac and innocence.
Just as he remembered.
"I'm sorry," he repeated in a low murmur, placing a gentle kiss at the place where her pulse had so recently beat. "I won't ever keep you waiting again."
He pulled back, looking into her smiling eyes, and lowered his lips to hers. She returned his kiss eagerly, drawing him closer, enveloping him in the warmth of her embrace.
This was where she'd always dreamed of being. Through all the long years in the darkness, he'd been her light. She could recall only dim, shimmery images now of her life before. Most of it was simply darkness, and the rest had a distinct tone of unreality about it, as if it had been one long, terrible dream. But one thing remained clear… one thing was always sure.
Jasper.
She remembered him.
She loved him.
And she was finally his.
Just as she'd always known she would be.
Since this is so far out of the norm for me, I'm dying to hear what you thought! Please take a second and let me know! Thanks so much for reading!
Nik
