This is based in New Moon, after Edward and the Cullens' leave Forks but before the Volturi scene. All of the names of Alice's family, except for Cynthia, I chose myself, using names that were popular in the decade they were born.

Family

Alice POV

I tightened my grip around Jasper's waist, pressing my face into the soft leather of his biking jacket. He took one hand off the handlebars to entwine his fingers with mine and I felt a wave of soothing calm and love enveloping me. I smiled and pressed a little kiss to his back. Another wave of love washed through me. I sighed happily, pressing my cheek to his back and watched the countryside pass by.

We were on the road, somewhere between Hattiesburg and Biloxi. We had been driving south for days, using Jasper's Ducati 848 motorcycle. It had felt ...human... to use a motorcycle. We looked human too. The biking leathers covered up almost all of our skin. We used gloves and scarves, and when I Saw that the sun would come out, we would wear crash helmets. It was overcast at the moment, and would stay that way for the rest of the afternoon.

We could have run all the way here, but that I didn't feel like running for days on end. It would have taken six days, fourteen hours, twelve minutes and thirty-six seconds to reach our destination, and I didn't feel like running for that long. With the motorbike, we could travel openly, stop at motels and shower!

Our destination. Just thinking of it sent whirls of twirling butterflies to my stomach. Jasper tightened his grip on my hand and I suddenly felt reassured. I knew at some point I would feel annoyed that my emotions were being manipulated, but I also understood how worried Jasper was for me, and that I would probably do the same in this situation. While the reassurance swirled through me, I could ponder the reason of this long trip without the negative emotions getting in the way.

I was going to visit my niece. My niece. It still felt strange saying that. I had been used to not having any connection to my past for so long it honestly hadn't bothered me at all. I had Jasper. I had the best parents in the world, Carlisle and Esme. I had siblings: Em, Rose, Edward (He could sink into whatever depression he wanted; he was still my brother) and, until recently, when my brother's stupidity got in the way, Bella. With my husband and parents and siblings I was content. And yet, with the coming of Bella had come the coming of James, and the blank that was my past didn't seem so blank anymore.

Whenever a change comes over a vampire, it is permanent. Before, I had been perfectly happy with my family, my life. After, I was insatiably curious. This was my chance to find out everything I had ever wanted to know. My family weren't as pleased as I was. Carlisle had pulled me aside before I'd had a chance to do any research, warning me that I might not be happy with what I found. Edward had told me quite bluntly, that I should stop.

"Your family put you in an asylum, Alice! A mental asylum! Doesn't that tell you what kind of people they were?"

I had refused. It was my right, I told him furiously, to know about my life as a human, and nothing he could do would be able to stop me. No one else's warning was quite so severe. Esme had simply told me she loved me.

So I searched. And I found.

Finding the information was ludicrously easy. It was all on the internet, on one of those 'find-out-your-family-history' sites. All this time the information was only a keyboard away.

My parents were called John and Margaret. Those names were perfectly common for children born in the mid-to-late eighteen hundreds. I had a little sister called Cynthia. And my name was Mary-Alice. Our family surname was Brandon.

We lived in a large house in Biloxi. I typed the recorded address into Google Images and found the house. It is still there, still being used as a house. It is painted a soft blue colour now, with white trim and lace curtains. I have no idea what I was painted like before. There is a porch and shaded veranda and a huge oak tree stands in the front garden. A happy family home.

It says on my birth certificate that my father worked in a bank. We would have been quite well off in those days, which is how we afforded the house. My mother didn't work: she was a house wife, another common thing from that time. They were both Catholics.

Cynthia was ten years younger than me. I wonder why my parents waited so long between children. Was my mother too frail or sick? Or was my sister an accident? I wonder what she was like. There was a picture on the website of her grave. Her surname had changed to Becker. The records said she married a German man, and had two children. Her daughter, my niece, is still alive, still in Biloxi, and today I am going to visit her.

When I made my choice to visit her, I had a vision. I Saw myself in a room with Jasper, decorated with flowered wallpaper. An old woman was there, who I just know is my niece. Her back was to me, so I only Saw her white hair and lavender cardigan. The doorbell rang, and the vision ended.

Jasper's hand squeezed my own, and I was pulled out of my thoughts. We were in a city now, which I guessed was Biloxi. I could smell the sea. Jasper was heading in the direction of the retirement home where my niece lived. We would have to change out of our biking gear, and I searched for all of the possibilities of where we could don more suitable clothing.

Behind a dumpster...no, definitely not... in a deserted alley... the toilets of a hotel... no, we wouldn't be let past the door in biking leathers... there were toilets in the reception of the nursing home... Ah! There was a place to park the Ducati with public toilets just across the street, only a block away from the retirement home. They probably wouldn't be hygienic... no, they weren't, I Saw... but they would do.

I started giving Jasper directions, words that were perfectly audible to us, but impossible if we were human. He followed my instructions, as I knew he would. Jasper trusted me. As he pulled up to park, there were a fair number of stares. The Ducati was a new model, and fairly expensive. This was an upmarket area though. No one would steal it, though there would be a few envious glances.

We dismounted, and I dug around the saddle bags for the rucksacks with the clothes I had planned for today.

"Why have we stopped?" Jasper's voice was a few decibels under the human hearing range. I smiled: it was so easy to have a private conversation when you where a vampire.

"We needed to change. No proper hotel would let us in wearing biking leathers and I didn't want to go into the retirement home dressed like this. It would scare some of the humans."

Jasper nodded, and led the way across the road to the toilets. I handed him his rucksack, and went into the ladies. I changed at vampire speed in the cubicle. I was too nervous to stay still. I was wearing a dark blue designer dress over black leggings and ballet flats, with minimal jewellery. I leaned over the sink to apply some makeup. Not much – only foundation and powder to make my skin a darker, more human shade, and mascara, lip gloss and blush.

Jasper was waiting outside the toilets. Every woman in the street was staring at him, and a smug smile was on my face as I took his hand. Jasper was mine.

We walked along the seafront towards to nursing home. Jasper didn't try to talk me out of it. He didn't ask if I was okay, if I was sure, and that is wasn't too late to turn back. He knew my feelings, could feel my determination. I was going to do this.

I paused for a moment as we reached the retirement home. I was a nice building, and Esme would delight in doing some renovations. It was large, the paint faded and chipped from the sea air*. My niece was in there somewhere. I took a big breath; the sea air flooded my lungs and nose. I wasn't thirsty. We had hunted all through last night; Jasper especially. He was frightened of hurting my family, I could tell, and he gorged himself so there would be no chance of losing control. I squeezed his hand and he felt my gratitude and love.

We crossed the road and entered the nursing home. My nose picked up on the plethora of smells; disinfectant, coffee, men's cologne, woman's perfume and the plastic scent that came from the pieces used in bingo. We approached the desk.

"Can I help you in any way?" The speaker was a middle aged woman with fake red hair. Her heartbeat sped up as she took in Jasper.

"Could you tell us how to find the room of Mrs Williams please?" Cynthia's daughter Mary Becker had married a man named Hamish Williams.

"Of course. I'll send a message up now to tell her of your arrival. You are...?"

"Jasper and Alice Hale, ma'am" Jasper spoke up, "We are relatives. My wife is related to the Williams family through Mrs Williams' aunt." Completely true. The best way to lie was by telling part of the truth. The woman at the desk wouldn't expect me to be Mary Williams' aunt, of course, but a descendent. It also helped that Jasper's tone was layered in sincerity.

Her expression cleared. "Right-o. I'll call Mrs Williams now to let her know to expect visitors."

"Thank you ma'am." I said politely.

"That's all right, dearie. Mrs' William's rooms are in the east wing, room number nine"

"Thank you" Jasper smiled, and the secretary's heat beat started to race. We turned, and walked to the corridor labelled 'East Wing'. The retirement home was all one level, with three wings arranged to the west, north and east of the reception. The walls were painted a shade of cream, and there were beige carpets. The furniture that dotted the reception was heavy and dark, and potted plants were everywhere.

It did not take long to reach the door labelled '9'. For a moment we stood, examining it. The wood was pine; the grains in the pine went vertically. The number was made of brass, and fixed with three screws. There was a letter box.

I was swamped with a wave of panic. Could I do this? It wasn't too late to go; I could explain to the sectary that we had made a mistake, and gone to the wrong Mrs Williams. Jasper squeezed my hand, force feeding me waves of calm, reminding me of why I was here. Here, there were the answers I desperately needed.

I raised my hand, and knocked on the door.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

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