Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer
If you want to know a little bit about where I got the inspiration for this story, it comes from the song "Bloodstream" by Ed Sheerhan. "Lord, forgive me for the things I've done, I was never meant to hurt no one" I just kept imagining the person what type of place a person must be in to speak those words – the regret, the pain, someone who had hit the bottom.
*** Chapter 1 – Fallen from Grace ***
Light pushed its way through the skin of his eyelids and his brain cringed from the assault even before he had the chance to open his eyes. He could feel tiny crumbs of asphalt making an imprint in the side of his face, and even though the ground was very solid beneath his body, it still seemed to be rocking him back and forth creating a nauseous sensation. He was forced from the refuge of unconsciousness by the feeling, and picked his head up from the ground just enough to twist his neck and gag. Stomach muscles clenching and heaving, there was no relief to be found in emptying an empty vessel, it was just wretched dry heaving. The sticky remains of last night's liquor had already been expelled, creating a pillow for his head once he had passed out in the alley around 3 in the morning.
Once Jasper got his stomach to stop protesting last night's activities, he coerced his body into an upright position long enough to lean back against the brick exterior of the building he had been lying next to. Every muscle screamed in response to the movement, pain shooting up arms and legs, ribs aching and sore with every breathe he managed to suck in between chapped lips . One eye was swollen shut, and just beneath sand-colored lashes the skin purpled and split open into a gash that had stopped leaking blood, but had turned into a congealed mess of dirt and fluid. Cool morning air crept through the thin material of his flannel shirt and a layer of dew left every inch of his body that had been exposed to the night air slightly damp.
Jasper looked across the alleyway to see a homeless man searching through the dumpster till he found a pizza box, which he promptly opened and began to devour the scraps of crusty bread and cold sauce. He was jealous of the man's find, seeing as it had been a day or two since he'd eaten anything solid. Had he any energy left in his beaten down frame, Jasper may have even tried to steal the treasure away from the man. But as it was, breathing and preventing another round of getting sick were taking up all the efforts he had left.
This was hell.
Scratch that, this was his own personal hell. The one he created with his own two hands, the responsibility for his residency there 100% his.
Alice sat on the leather couch in his father's study, examining her nails and pretending not to pay attention to the words being tossed back and forth between the men of the room.
Jasper had planted both fists against the surface of his father's large desk, leaning forward to look the man in the eyes, "Come on, dad, you know I'm never going to follow you into this business. We have argued and fought almost every moment that I have worked for you. Get over it, I'm not the golden child you've always prayed I would turn out to be, no, I'm just the fuck up that you spend your days having to clean up after. You've got Emmett now, just write the damn check and let me go."
"Jasper, I know I've been a little harsh at times, son, but please, don't do this. Don't leave your family behind. Let us try and work through this," pleading blue eyes that matched the steel blue eyes cutting into the speaker voiced one more plea, "This will break Rose's heart if you leave, please, think about what you're doing."
"The check, dad. Just advance me the money remaining in my trust," Jasper demanded, ignoring the man's appeals, "I'm leaving with or without the cash, but if you ever loved me, you can show it by giving me something to live on till I make my own way."
Silence stretched between the two men. One hoping that if he refused to move in acquiescence, his wayward son might see the folly of his plan, and the other rigid and unbending to any request made of him. After a few minutes of staring at each other, Alice keenly watching Jasper to make sure he didn't cave under daddy's begging, Alex Hale pulled out a ledger from his desk drawer and wrote a check out to his only son. He'd barely moved his hand to give it to his child before Jasper snatched it from his fingers and turned to make his way out of the home office.
Alex was frozen in his chair, watching Jasper's form retreat from the room. Alice placed the emery board she'd been toying with back into her bag and got up from her seat. Giving the broken man a smile of victory, she turned and followed J's form out into the hallway and towards the front door.
In a moment of perfect timing, Rosalie was descending the stairs as Jasper reached the entrance to the Hale home.
"Jasper? Are you and Alice not having dinner with us?" The beautiful blonde questioned a brother who had once been so close people thought they had to be twins, the bond between the two having fused them together to the point that their beginnings seemed intertwined. That was until Alice came into the picture…
Jasper stopped, but didn't have the courage to turn and meet his sister's gaze, "I'm leaving Rose. Give Emmett my regards. I'll send you a message when I get to wherever I'm going."
"What? What do you mean you're leaving?" Rosalie descended the stairs and grabbed her brother's arm forcing him to face her, but he kept his eyes trained on a spot over her shoulder, never meeting her eyes, "This is Alice's doing, Jazz, don't let her take you from us."
"Oh, Rose, I'm not your brother's master. He's his own man," Alice sneered, "and he's just realized that there's no future for him if he stays here. He'll never be good enough for you people."
Rosalie looked hurt, "That's not true, J, we love you," her voice dropped to a whisper, "please, please, don't do this."
Jasper gritted his teeth and hardened his jaw, "I love you too, Rose, but I've got to go."
Placing a short kiss on her forehead, the man turned and walked out the door, ignoring the sobs of the woman who was once his other half.
Salt found its way into the cut under his eyes as tears slid silently down Jasper's face. He'd been so foolish in thinking he'd known what was best, that he would be better off without their interference in his life, that he could go so much further if he left his home and ventured off on his own. The mantel of guilt and shame freshly spun and placed upon his shoulders bent his spine over until his forehead touched his knees, and he wept from the grief of his cruel treatment of the sister who loved him.
Now he was penniless, homeless, beaten up and hung over from another drinking binge wishing he had enough energy to take the trash that was another beggar's breakfast.
Yeah, he'd gone real far on his own. If his father had been disappointed by the mistakes of his past when he had lived at home, he probably wouldn't even bother claiming the man Jasper had become as his son. Less than two years and the money gone, he was a dirty, filthy scrap of something less than human. Even the lowest paid worker in the Hale Construction company was better off than Jasper. Hell, he'd have a better life if he was just picking up trash on job sites.
Another gurgling complaint of his empty stomach fueled Jasper's desperate thoughts.
I could go back. I could beg and plead for anything, any job at all.
Pride had abandoned him along with Alice and the last of the cash. Hunger, pain, survival instincts were now driving the wheel, and Jasper came to the decision that getting out of this pit was worth groveling and pleading.
Grimacing through the pain, Jasper made himself stand and start to move to the mouth of the alleyway, one step closer to home.
A/N: Someone previously commented that they hoped I would continue writing Jasper stories, and I found that I did have another tale to place him in. This time our journey is going to follow him as he tries to come back home once life has left him broken, hence the title, "Beyond Brokenness."
True to my previous writing, I'm not an Alice fan and I tend not to write her in a positive light. She'll be a villain in this piece as well.
This is just the beginning, and I welcome feedback, thoughts, compliments and complaints. - Ginja