Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight. Stephenie Meyer does.
They were brothers, the three of them. And they weren't just regular brothers. They shared a sort of special bond – no questions or words needed. They were ready to die for each other, if the case came up. There was Emmett, three years older than his brother and five years older than his youngest brother. Jasper, the middle child, quiet on most nights and days. And then there was Edward. Bronze-haired Edward, the same bronze hair that had been their mother's, Elizabeth's. Their father, Dr. Carlisle Cullen was known, and for their childhood, the brothers had lived in peace, in a house in the country. Carlisle, Elizabeth, Emmett, Jasper, and Edward. A family.
The strongest memory of his childhood that Emmett had was one of salvation. He had been five years old at that time, Jasper two years old. They had not known it, but in a day their newest brother would be born. Jasper was chasing a butterfly while Emmett was playing with the toys his mother had given him.
"Ooh!" The little amazed sounds came from his little brother. Emmett grinned at him, the sunlight catching off his dark curls. Jasper was running after the butterfly faster than ever before. Emmett went back to playing with his toys in the sunny morning.
When Emmett looked back up, he could not find Jasper.
Emmett, only five years old, got scared.
"Jasper?" he looked for the blond head that was his brother. It was nowhere to be seen. He suddenly heard a single cry form the woods near his house. It sounded like his brother. Emmett ran as fast as he could toward the cry.
The sight he saw would stay imprinted on his memory.
Jasper lay still on the floor, blood covering the blond locks. His eyes were closed, and he didn't seem to be breathing. Emmett knelt quickly in front of Jasper and picked him up gingerly. Then he ran all the way back home.
"Mommy! Mommy! Daddy!" His parents had rushed out from the house, his mother in her regular huge white nightgown.
"Emmett, baby, what's wrong?" She screamed when she saw Jasper, lying ever so still in Emmett's arms. His daddy took Jasper in with him at once, while Emmett cried because his mother was crying. She stopped when she saw he was and instead made a circle of arms around her eldest son.
"Don't be sad, Emmett. You saved your brother. He's safe." So Emmett had been a little cocky that day, with his mother's arms around him and her scent tickling his nose.
The strongest memory that Jasper had of his childhood was one of horror. Their house had been in flames. He had been three years old. He had heard people screaming his name, but all he did was hide in a corner of the house, watching orange flames lick the house form roof to floor. He buried himself into the corner more.
"Jasper? Jasper, where are you?" He heard his daddy calling his name.
"Elizabeth? Elizabeth?" His mother did not answer. He saw his daddy then, blond locks sticking to his forehead. He saw him pick up Emmett and run form the house.
Jasper was scared. He wanted his mother, he wanted his father, he wanted his brothers. None came.
Suddenly, he felt loving arms carrying him through the everlasting flames. It was his mother. She put him down and handed a one year old howling Edward to him. When in Jasper's arms, Edward immediately quieted down.
"Jasper, get yourself and Edward out of the house. Now." Her voice was urgent. She looked haggard and tired.
"Jasper, I love you." He turned around to go, but looked back once. A timber of wood filled with those orange flames had fallen on his mother. She was screaming now, the flames licking at her skin, burning at her bronze hair.
Slowly, Jasper watches his mother die.
When there is nothing left of Elizabeth Masen Cullen, Jasper rushed out of an exit. His father picked him up at once, holding baby Edward gently.
Once in the haven of his father, Jasper finally allowed himself to cry.
The strongest memory that Edward had of his childhood was one of his protection. Jasper had been rocking him to sleep, and Edward's two year old self was being soothed. Edward and his brothers were alone in the house; their father had left on an emergency house call. Jasper was five, Emmett was eight, and Edward was three. Jasper was trying to get him to go to sleep, but it wasn't working until now. Jasper's melodic voice was interrupted by a screaming from downstairs. Jasper's arms tightened around him as Edward was rushed downstairs.
The sight in the kitchen was ghastly. Emmett's arm was held by a man in all black.
"Come here, kid. You're coming with me." Edward screamed and the man turned toward them.
"Well, there's two more. I'll take all of them. Stupid kids, forgot to lock the door" Jasper tensed under him. Then, as slowly as he could, Jasper set Edward down.
"Let Emmett go, please." The man laughed and Jasper walked over to the kitchen counter, where a kitchen knife was lying. He took the knife and then plunged it into the man's arm. The man's eyes widened and he cursed, letting go of Emmett's arm for a minute. Jasper was till holding the bloody knife.
"Leave. Now." And if by some miracle of life, he did, and when his footsteps were gone, Emmett locked and bolted the door. Then Emmett and Edward watched Jasper, who was washing the knife under the faucet. He put the knife away and then grabbed Edward from the table he had set him down in. Emmett latched onto both of them and then they waited, together, until their father came home. After an hour of waiting, Edward felt a little sleepy, so he crawled into Jasper's lap and slept. The last thing he heard was Jasper's soft voice, soothing him to sleep again.
Present
Edward sat on the edge of the couch. He was alone in the house, and he couldn't help as his heart jumped when the door opened. Jasper came in, and his blue eyes locked with Edward's green ones. His blond hair was covered in dirt, and his coat was wet form the storm outside. Jasper slowly walked over to the couch, resting on it lightly, laying on it in a fetal position. He spoke not a word, quiet. Edward slowly took off jasper's coat and shoes and put them in their appropriate places. He jumped again as the door opened. Emmett came through the doorway.
"Storm's hectic out there. Like hell." He said. He stopped short seeing Jasper, who was absently rubbing his left wrist.
"Jasper's home," Edward said, quite unnecessarily. Emmett nodded and looked over.
"Well, Jasper, you topped your personal record. You've been missing for a week and a half. But, true to your word, you still come home. What are you rubbing at?" Emmett lifted the sleeve of Jasper's shirt.
"What the hell? Edward!" Edward looked over at Jasper.
Jasper's arm was littered with scorch marks. They were little burns, like dirt on his pale skin.
"What the hell did you do to yourself?!" Edward was aware that his voice was becoming more of a shriek than a statement. Jasper stayed annoyingly quiet. Edward cursed under his breath and put on his coat.
If Jasper thought that Edward was going to sympathize with him, every single day when he came home, Jasper was very, very wrong.