Excess
Image #10
Word Count: 3,972
Rating: M
Summary: Some people fall in and out of love easily. Some people love wholly. Others try to love so deeply that it ends up destroying all of those around them. Jasper/Alice.

As the usual: I do not own Twilight. Ryan Adams owns this version: http:/www(dot)youtube(dot)com/watch?v=0gVxRvNfFLg

"I don't believe that anybody
Feels the way I do
About you now

I said maybe,
You're gonna be the one that saves me
And after all
You're my wonderwall"

~##~

"Just one more, baby. Please."

I shook my head, the act of which almost making me fall as my ass teetered on the edge of the bed. I couldn't stop thinking in the back of my mind that something about this was way too fucked up. But I chose to ignore it, as usual.

"Please," she whined behind me, snaking her arms around my sides.

I shut my eyes as she shakily moved around to the front, straddling my lap as she threaded her fingers through my hair. I opened one eye slowly, the light of the room suddenly becoming too bright for both of my eyes to function properly. Her pleading eyes were bloodshot, the tip of her nose red with broken capillaries and her breath smelled of stale cigarettes. But she was still so fucking beautiful to me.

"We don't have much left," I answered, my resolve already wavering.

She bit her bottom lip, her eyes casted upwards at me as she begged for more. I took a deep breath, trying to muster up the strength to say no. I couldn't deny her. She knew this.

"It still hurts," she softly whispered, her legs tightening around my waist for more support.

"Where?" I asked, noticing my hold on her back had to become harder as she kept on slipping.

She reached behind her back and grabbed my hand, placing it over her chest.

"Here," she mouthed, tears welling up in her eyes.

It killed me to know she was in any sort of pain. I had come to love her so much that what she felt, I felt too. It pained me to know I couldn't fill that hopeless, black void that resigned in her chest and made her wake up crying almost every night. I thought love was supposed to conquer all. I thought my love could begin to fix her, filling that void with smiles and laughter.

"Okay," I almost choked out, wiping away a single tear that escaped the confines of her full eyelashes. "Don't worry. I'll try to make it all go away. I'll figure out something for us to get some more tomorrow."

She slid off my lap, a smile straining to form behind her glossy stare and I followed her over to our coffee table. We sat cross-legged in silence on the floor as she watched me divide out the last of our coke. I know it didn't escape her notice that I gave her more than I gave myself. Normally she would have objected, stubbornly doing only her half and leaving the extra sitting on the table for me. She must have been battling something really bad tonight to not be fighting with me on this one. But, of course, I'd give it all to her if she needed. I would give her anything in the world if I thought it would help. I was grasping at anything by this point, though. Begging to whatever God there was that something would just fucking work for once. That I could wake up one morning and see her smile, no longer having to try to ignore the sadness that I saw dragging her down more and more each day.

I handed her the straw, always ladies first, and waited while I watched her eagerly snort up the pure white powder. I almost didn't want to do another line anymore. Her emptiness made me almost feel too deflated to even try. What if she needed the last little bit later when she woke up in the middle of the night?

She handed me the straw, her eyes brightening up for a fraction of a second, as I sat motionless, staring at her. She rolled it across the table and it stopped at the side of my own neatly laid out line. She looked at me expectantly, raising her eyebrows as if to say, don't even think about making me have to do this alone. I sighed, grabbing the plastic tube so worn now with use and encrusted on the inside from so many nights like this.

I bent down, keeping my eyes on her as I inhaled through one side of my nose, watching her smile at me. It finally seemed like a genuine smile, no longer making me feel guilty for not leaving it for her and for taking it myself.

"Let's go to bed," she sleepily declared while rubbing at her eyes. "It's too bright in here."

"Do you feel any better?" I asked cautiously.

She gave me a small smile in return. "For now."

I nodded as I stood up, knowing full well what she meant. I grabbed her outstretched hand, almost falling down from her unstable stance, and led her over to the bed. She threw herself down, loudly sighing as she sprawled out, and I turned off the lights before I laid down next to her.

"I think these blankets and pillows are the best things we have ever spent money on in this apartment."

I nodded silently, omitting the fact that it was the only thing we ever bought for this apartment. Everything else laid practically bare. No dishes, silverware, chairs, couches or necessities other sober people would think about getting. Because I spent all of my money on things for her, trying to make her happy.

I propped myself up on the headboard looking around the room and the shadows laid across the empty walls. Unlike her, I couldn't fall right to sleep after doing coke. It wired my brain, making me think way too much all at once. With her, though, it seemed to calm her, allowing her to find some solace in her brain and succumbing to sleep easily.

She scooted closer to me, laying her head on my lap and grabbing my hand to loosely hold on to. I watched her eyes close as I began to run my other hand through her hair and marveled at her beauty. It was moments like this that I strived for. Seeing her relaxed and peaceful as we held each other silently.

"I love you," she whispered out to the quietness of the room.

"More than you know," I replied, dragging my fingertips down to her back and up again.

She made a soft humming sound as I felt her body slacken and her breath even out. On nights like these I would watch her sleep for hours, most of the time thinking of new ways I could help her, make her see things in a different light, erase all of her past that hurt her. My mind was running in circles, always coming back to the beginning. I felt like the dog chasing his tail, at times. But what else was I to do? I couldn't walk away. I was stuck in this for life, for however long she wanted me by her side.

I felt the affects of the past three sleepless nights finally catching up to me and scooted down a little farther, trying not to wake her up. I fell asleep while playing with the ends of her hair and still holding on tightly to her other hand.

I didn't know what had woken me up, the sun blazing through my shadeless window or the sound of a car alarm blaring down the street. All I knew was I had to piss so bad that I was afraid I wasn't going to be able to make it to the bathroom.

I slid out from her grasp, gently placing her back down on her stomach, much like the position she was in all night. I paused to stroke back her hair from her face, despite the persistent stabbing pain in my stomach reminding me that I needed to pee. I made a fast tiptoe run across the cold linoleum, instantly feeling the cold air rush around my naked torso at the loss of her body.

After going to the bathroom, I practically ran back to the bed, jumping under the covers to get closer to her and get warm again. Part of me wanted to wake her up but the other part of me wanted to let her sleep. It was one of those rare nights that she actually slept throughout the whole night and I knew she needed the rest. I decided I would lay with her for a moment, having nothing else better to do, and let her sleep for another hour before waking her.

I suddenly became aware of the fact that she was only in her underwear and bra and I pulled the blanket up to her shoulders to make sure she wouldn't wake up from becoming too cold. After I tucked the blanket around her, I placed my arm around her back and moved a little closer. I closed my eyes, trying to appreciate the stillness of the room, with the sun streaming down on my back and the birds chirping in the distance. I was happy that we had gone through a night without her waking up screaming at dreams that conjured up past nightmares. I would have to worry about how to get more coke later, who to borrow the money off of, but I was trying my best to leave the thought alone, for once.

Suddenly, I realized the room was too still. The silence inside of the apartment seemed off, something was missing.

I held my breath, my subconscious knowing what was wrong before my brain grasped it. I lifted up and stared at the back of her head, noticing she seemed too quiet. I pulled myself up on all fours, my skin feeling completely numb and my breath coming out in jagged, short gasps. I crawled over her, gently placing my palms on the other side of her to see her face, in case she was asleep. She still looked peaceful, still beautiful...but I knew, I fucking knew something was wrong.

I scrambled down to the floor, no longer caring if my flailing body would wake her up anymore. I wanted her to wake up, prove me wrong. I would choose her screaming and crying and even the worst day we have had times ten over what the other possibility was.

I stretched out a shaking finger to her cheek, curving it to run down her face. But she had no reaction. I retracted, pulling my knees up to my chest as I stared at her, afraid to move, afraid to try to prove myself wrong or right. I tried to see if the blanket was moving above her back but my breath was coming out so harshly, my eyes stinging with unshed tears that made everything too blurry for me to be able to tell. After many moments of my inner struggle, I crept closer to her, no longer noticing the coldness of the floor. My body probably plummeted twenty degrees lower than the temperature of the room in fear.

I placed my ear to her mouth, the lips I had kissed so many times and planned on kissing for many more. Yet the only sound I could hear was my own heartbeat thumping loudly in my ears. I squeezed my eyes shut, concentrating harder and pressing my head closer to her. Still nothing.

I was vaguely aware of my own sounds, the gasping for air, the sobbing, and the pain practically splitting my head in two. I was more aware of her lifeless form that I suddenly found myself clutching on to, screaming at her to wake up. For the love of God, why didn't she just fucking wake up? The thought of her dieing in my arms while I slept made me fucking sick. She died and I wasn't there to stop it, I didn't protect her like I always swore I would. Where did I go wrong?

I reached for the phone to call for an ambulance, never letting go of her, unable to leave the warmth her body still had. I figured if she was still warm, maybe I wasn't too late. Maybe I could save her.

I don't remember talking to anyone on the phone. I only became aware of some things as paramedics burst through the room, tearing me away from her. I kicked and screamed for them to let me go. To not take her away from me. A cop came behind me, handcuffing me and holding me down. I was trying to help her but they wouldn't fucking see that. They were too busy trying to take her away from me. I was supposed to go with her, hold her hand on the drive to the hospital, hoped and prayed as they tried to bring her body back to life. But they seperated us, her going in the ambulance and me in a squad car. Everything I screamed at them fell upon deaf ears, so I sat alone in the back of the vehicle, doing the only thing I could do.

Cry.

~##~

I was shoved into, I assumed, an interrogation room. The harsh lights of the room reminded me of the night before when I had to squint against the light of our bedroom, making my tears come back to me full force.

"I need for you to explain to us what happened, son," I heard Chief Swan ask me, clicking a record button on his tape machine.

"How is she doing?" I choked out in breaths, instead of answering. "Why won't anybody tell me if she's okay?"

I harshly rubbed my eyes and looked up at the cop, who I saw take a deep sigh and look at his partner behind me.

"We'll ask the questions first and then you."

I didn't reply, something deep down told me what that meant, yet I was still holding on to the hope.

"I have to tell you, you don't have to tell us anything you don't want to. You can wait until a lawyer is appointed to you, if you choose."

I shook my head, absolutely fine with speaking without a lawyer. All I ever did was love her and take care of her. What would be so bad about that? I had nothing to hide.

"Okay, then," he sighed out, while sitting down across from me. "Please state your name and tell me what events happened that led you two here."

I wiped my eyes with the bright orange shirt that they provided me with and took a shaky deep breath before grabbing the sides of the chair for support. I felt like everything was all some kind of fucked up dream, I needed something to help keep me grounded. Everything felt so real, yet felt so far away.

I thought about where to start. My mind was so past the point of screwed that I didn't know what he meant, exactly. Did he mean how we met? How we ended up falling in love? Details of her fucked up past and all the pain that led to her chasing the memories away with drugs? Just last night? Do I start with what we ate, where we went?

"We found cocaine in her system, do you think you can tell us how she ended up with it?" he spoke up, jerking me out of my thoughts.

"Yeah," I nodded. "I bought them for her. She-She has trouble sleeping," I shrugged, not knowing if I should divulge the information of her past. "It helps take the edge off."

He started tapping his fingers on the cold table, his demeanor causing me to tense up in preperation, my hold becoming tighter on the chair.

"She was pronounced dead on arrival. There was a significant amount of cocaine in her system, causing her to have an overdose. We don't know what..."

His voiced trailed off, my head suddenly splitting and my ears rang so loudly I cringed at the pain. Dead? But she couldn't be. She wasn't supposed to leave me. We were supposed to grow old together. I was supposed to make her better over time, showing her a happy life that she deserved. We were supposed to get married, having children of our own to raise. We were supposed to shower them with love, never following in our parents footsteps them. We had names picked out, destination to go, a whole life yet to live together. If she no longer existed, then why was I still here? We were supposed to go together, never leaving the other one behind.

I started screaming, throwing my chair across the room in anger. It was all so fucking unfair. The pain in my throat from my endless screaming didn't even come close to the pain I felt in my chest. As the cops rushed in the room, slamming me down on the floor with their knees to handcuff me, I briefly wondered if it was anything close to the pain in her chest that she always talked about. If it was, I didn't see how she could have possibly survived for so long that way.

~##~

They placed me in a cell and I was vaguely aware of the fact that nobody else was in it. For a split second, I was glad for the low crime rate of Forks allowing me to be alone. The night passed in a blur as I sat on my thin cot, huddled in the corner. My mind kept going in and out between hours of crying and I couldn't understand the reason why I was still here. I needed to be planning her funeral. And, then shortly thereafter, I needed to be planning my own suicide. I needed to try to meet her in the beyond, unknown realm of life. If it even existed.

I was woken up to a clanging sound and I blinked, trying to rub the hard crusts laying over my eyes from so much crying. Someone was standing in my cell and I realized the sound must have come from my door being slammed shut. I squinted and tried to focus on who it was, not recognizing them.

"Hello, Mr. Hale," she spoke softly to me, while extending her hand. "I'm your lawyer, Ms. Hale."

"W-What?" I stuttered, sitting up to meet her handshake, trying to ignore the pounding headache searing through my head. "But, I never got a lawyer. I told them I would be fine without one. I have nothing to hide. Nothing is wrong."

She gave me a sympathetic look before setting down her briefcase on the other cot and opening it to take out papers.

"I'm afraid that you are mistaken, Mr. Hale."

"What's wrong?" I asked, sitting at the edge of the bed now. I was starting to get nervous at her tone and she had my full attention.

"Mr. Cullen appointed me to you once he heard what had happened. Him being her brother, I could only assume that you two were close since he has decided to have someone represent your side in this matter."

"Yeah," I numbly nodded, trying to take in all of the information. Everything was moving way too fast for me to catch up. "We were close. Once."

It was true though. Edward and I were once close, we were best friends during a time that seemed forever ago. But once I had declared my love for Alice, he started slowing drifting away. He always said that he was glad that Alice had someone she could now talk to, that he wouldn't have trusted anyone else to be that person but me. But he still ended up pushing us away, phone calls and visits coming to a stop and never picking back up again over the past year.

"I don't understand, though," I continued. "Why do I even need a lawyer in the first place?"

She sat down on the edge of the other bed, after wiping it off with her hand, and looked straight at me.

"Because, Mr. Hale, you are being charged with her murder."

Everything became bright and dark all at once, my world tilting on it's axis and throwing me off.

"I-I didn't do anything, though. I only loved her. How is loving someone such a crime?"

I saw her composure briefly stutter as she rubbed her eyes before replying.

"You supplied her with drugs. The same drugs that had ended up killing her."

"She needed it!" I shouted, standing up and pacing back and forth. I seriously couldn't understand why the hell all of this shit was happening.

"Well, according to the state of Washington, they have a right to try to charge you with controlled-substances homicide."

I had to sit back down again, feeling horribly dizzy and trying to fight off the need to vomit. I waved at her to continue, needing all of the information, yet not sure if I could fully grasp everything she said to me.

"According to a law that was passed in 1987, it's the equivalent of holding a gun dealer liable if someone shoots himself. There was a new law that was passed called the "911 Good Samaritan" law. This law states that if anyone calls in an overdose, they are provided with immunity from drug possession charges. However, you being basically the drug dealer, it doesn't exclude you from being able to be charged with homicide. You purchased and provided her with the drug, therefor holding you accountable for her death. I am sure that they will also be questioning you later about who you had bought it from in the first place to charge them, too. The penalty for administering a lethal dose of a drug is usually 51 to 68 months in prison for adults. But I have also known some people to go for up to eight years. However, I'm sure that if you comply with the police and tell them who you got it from, they will agree to shorten you sentence, if you were to be convicted."

I fell back onto my bed feeling bile rising up in my throat as my tears slid out of my eyes and down the sides of my face, into my hair. I didn't care about shortening my sentence. I cared about the fact that the only person I had ever loved was now dead. I cared about the fact that I was now forced to live without her, constantly watched over and unable to end my own suffering. I cared about the fact that I now felt so cold, lost without her warmth by my side.

I jerked over to the foot of the cot, vomit violently projecting as I choked on my tears. I couldn't catch my breath, black and red dots were blocking my vision, whether my eyes were shut or open. My stomach kept contracting, trying to purge contents that I no longer had in my stomach. I wiped my mouth and my snot away on my sleeve and laid back down, still gasping for air. I was wishing that I wouldn't be able to. That if there was a God, he would grant me with this one wish and end me right here. I didn't care if it was painful. I just wanted the ends, never mind the means.

Ms. Hale's head bobbed briefly in my vision as she stood up to walk to the door.

"I'm going to get someone to help you clean up and calm you down. Try to get some rest. I'll be back tomorrow around two to discuss our options some more with you."

She silently slipped out the door as I tried calling out to her in between my crying convulsions.

"All I wanted to do was show her how good true love can be. All I wanted to do was love her."