** I own nothing Twilight related. I also don't own the lyrics to Dido's "Mary's in India." I just put the two together.
Thanks to herinfiniteeyes for cleaning up behind me.
Thanks to ZephyerSky for holding my hand when I got scared. **
As The Sun Rises
danny is lonely cuz mary's in india now
she said she'd call but that was three weeks ago
she left all her things well, her books and her letters from him
and as the sun rises on mary, it sets on him
"Have you heard from her?" His voice is soft, tortured, but what breaks my heart is the leftover note of hope that is present underneath. I close my eyes and lean my forehead against the smooth maple wood of my kitchen cabinet. I swallow hard before answering.
"No, Jasper. I haven't heard from her." His disappointment is so thick I almost feel it from my kitchen. I picture him, standing at his window, gazing out into the night. He lives three miles away, in an apartment they used to share, and his hurt is so vast that I can feel it where I stand. He is silent and I would give anything if I could say something to heal him.
Do I tell him I love him? Do I tell him that I've always loved him?
o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o
Jasper, Mary Alice, and I met six years ago in our freshman orientation class at the University of Georgia. There were approximately sixty of us, eyeing each other warily from our various seats around the classroom. The door opened and a willowy brunette whirled through. She flitted past several rows, smirking at their occupants.
I watched her, fascinated. She was extraordinarily colorful, dressed in a rainbow skirt and a multi-colored striped shirt. Blue and red scarves wound around her delicate neck, trailing behind her as she moved, which she did unceasingly. She stopped in front of my row, smiled big, and fairly skipped down the aisle toward me.
She stopped between the blond boy in the next desk and me. I had just enough time to notice that she wore fingerless hot pink gloves on her petite hands before she grabbed my left hand and the right hand of the boy beside me. Her grip was surprisingly strong.
"Hi! My name is Mary Alice and I've decided you two are going to be my best friends." She laughed once, the sound shockingly loud from such a small person in the quiet classroom.
The three of us were instantly the best of friends. We were so different, but somehow we made those differences work for us. We simply were.
The blond boy who sat beside me that first day was Jasper Whitlock. Hailing from Texas, he possessed a rough exterior, often clothed in dirty jeans or holey t-shirts and cowboy boots. His slow southern drawl belied a vast intelligence, a quick wit, and the heart of a poet. His bright blue eyes viewed the world in shades of grey, seeing the good and bad in everything. Jasper was our heart.
I was the misplaced Yankee from Boston, attending UGA on an academic scholarship with dreams of going to law school. It was my habit at the time to dress smartly every day. That first day of class my pants were pressed and paired carefully with a long sleeved button down shirt. I saw the world in black and white. Logic ruled my life. I was our head.
If Jasper was our heart and I was our head, Mary Alice Brandon was our spirit. Constantly in motion, she flitted from major to major, apartment to apartment, and location to location with no more thought than that was where she wanted to go. Her dark eyes never failed to recognize the colors of the world, the incandescent blues, greens, yellows, and reds that made life interesting. Yes, Mary Alice was our soul, our vital spark.
I loved them both desperately.
o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o
"Where do you think she is?" Jasper's voice drags me back to the present. I sigh and pull myself up on the granite butcher-block island. We have had this exact conversation every night for the past three weeks.
"I don't know. You know she's always done her own thing, gone her own way, and marched to the beat of her own drummer, as they say." My voice is soft; I don't want to wound him more than necessary.
I am, all at once, sick with worry, angry at her thoughtlessness, and hopelessly in love with him.
"She's never been gone this long without calling before." He is worried too and hopelessly in love with her, even after this. His voice breaks on the last word.
"J, do you want to come over?" I ask, knowing he won't, but needing to offer anyway. I am surprised to hear a small sob from his end of the line. He doesn't answer. "Never mind," I tell him, jumping down from my countertop. "I'm coming over. Stay there." He doesn't answer, but the phone is dead in my hand almost before I finish speaking.
Grimly, I grab my keys from my dining room table and my jacket from the back of a chair.
If she isn't dead, I'm going to kill her.
I'm at his door within minutes. It is cracked open and I am engulfed in a wave of panic that threatens to drown me. I take a deep breath and push through the doorway. It takes a minute for my eyes to adjust to the dark in the apartment after the brightness of the hallway.
I was wrong earlier. Jasper is not standing in front of the big window overlooking the city. He is collapsed on the leather couch. His elbows rest on his knees and his hands support his head. There is a half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels and a shot glass on the cubed coffee table in front of him.
In the past six years, I have never seen Jasper drink anything harder than beer. I am terrified that I am on the verge of losing both of my best friends. I rush to him, shoving the coffee table out of my way and crashing to my knees in front of him.
For the first time since Mary Alice left, tears drip down my cheeks until they plop onto the hardwood between Jasper and I. My stomach twists in knots and for a moment, I feel physically ill. I lay my hands over his and he looks up, surprised to see me kneeling there. There is three days' worth of scruff on his jaw and his eyes are bloodshot from the liquor.
"Hey," he whispers. Then we are sobbing into each other's necks. Our arms are tangled around each other's bodies and I cannot make myself move despite the protests that my knees are making.
Eventually we shift so that I am sitting on the couch, the pain in my knees finally becoming unbearable. My head rests on the back of their couch and my feet are propped on a corner of the coffee table.
Jasper is asleep with his head on my thigh, his arm curled around my knee. Despite my worry, I am almost content. I have missed this level of physical contact with him since he and Mary Alice began dating. Sleepily, I ghost my hand over his hair, down his neck, and over his shoulder.
His form is almost as familiar to me as my own.
Sleep is pressing on my eyelids, but I am loath to cut this moment short. The warmth of his body against mine is an exquisite kind of torture. I give in momentarily and let my hand come to rest on his hip.
I cannot fight any more and let slumber take me.
o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o
I wake up with a jolt, lying prone, the embossment from the leather imprinted on my cheek. At some point Jasper has covered me with a throw. Sunlight streams through the large window and there is no sound from the rest of the apartment.
I am alone.
I spend the rest of the day holed up in my own place, alternately working on my Masters thesis and searching for Mary Alice's name on the Internet. I already have a Google alert set up so that I will know the instant that her name appears online, but that doesn't stop me from searching on my own. I have, of course, not told Jasper about any of this. I do not want to get his hopes up, knowing that Mary Alice is perfectly capable of hiding herself until she wants to be found. Even from us.
I convince Jasper to go to dinner with me and our friends Mike and Jessica. He shows up at my door fifteen minutes late. He is disheveled; his clothes are wrinkled and it is painfully obvious that he has been running his hands through his hair repeatedly. It looks like he hasn't shaved in days.
We are in my car headed across town before he speaks.
"This is a bad idea," he says. His hands are beating a nervous rhythm on his knees. "I should stay at home, in case she calls."
I sigh. "J, you need to get out. If she calls, she'll leave a message or call my place and my phone forwards to my cell." I try to be the voice of reason. He nods once in acquiescence.
We arrive at the restaurant and file inside quietly to meet Mike and Jess. The conversation is awkward and stilted. I try to listen politely to their stories about getting their bakery up and running. Jasper is quiet, barely interacting with anyone else. He eats his food quickly, eager to get back to his apartment.
Neither of us is prepared for the bombshell that is approaching.
It is Jessica that blows our world apart.
"Have you heard from Mary Alice?" She asks, winding her pasta around her fork, not even looking up at us.
"No," I answer, picking dispiritedly at the unappetizing broccoli on my plate. Jessica stops and looks at me, her small mouth turned down in a frown.
"That's weird. She told me when she called that she had decided to stop over in Greece. I really thought she would have called you both by now."
Jasper drops his fork on his plate and it clatters loudly. I cannot breathe, my heart constricts in my chest until my vision actually wavers.
Silence has descended on our table. Mike and Jessica are studying Jasper and I wide-eyed. I look at Jasper and watch as a range of emotions flit over his beautiful face.
"She called you?" Jasper chokes out finally. Jessica nods slowly, glancing back at me, alarmed by his attitude.
I am stunned and have to fight down a wave of nausea. She's okay, is my first thought. This one is followed closely by, why did she call Jessica and not Jasper or me? I am hurt. Heartbroken that she has left and has not thought enough of us to call or email us directly.
The worry is easing, but this leaves room for an incredible fury to fill my chest. It feels like an eternity, but is actually only minutes before Jasper jumps up.
"I have to go," he utters gruffly, throwing his napkin on the table and bolting from the restaurant.
"Jasper," I call, but he is already gone. Stricken, I look across the table at Mike and Jessica. "I'm sorry," I whisper, pushing my chair back and throwing a couple of twenty-dollar bills down on the table.
I stand and hurry out of the restaurant, part of me hoping that I'll be able to catch up to him or that he'll be waiting at my car. But by the time I reach the sidewalk, he has disappeared like a phantom.
I turn back towards the parking lot, but am stopped by Jessica standing in front of me. She captures my hand and holds me captive, even as I'm yearning to bolt after Jasper.
"Stop for a second," she says softly, stroking the back of my hand with her thumb. "Maybe you should let him go this time. He probably needs some time alone."
My throat is tightening, making it difficult to draw a breath.
"Jess…." I whisper, shaking my head. She slips an arm around my waist, trying in vain to comfort me.
"I know. I know you're in love with him. Just like I know how much you love her." She stops and I am shocked to see her eyes mist over with tears. "But you're my friend and I can only see how this can hurt you."
Suddenly I am bone-weary. The emotional turmoil of the past three weeks is taking its toll and I almost sick with fatigue. What I need is the comfort of my two best friends. Without them, I am nothing, a shadow, a shell of a human being.
For now it becomes my mission to make it back to the sanctuary of my home. I am choking on my sorrow and indescribable rage. I am angrier than I have ever been and I need time to collect myself.
I lean forward and kiss Jessica's cheek. I bolt for the parking lot, towards my car, towards the cool haven of my bed. I can hear her calling after me.
I do not turn. I do not acknowledge her. I must keep moving or I will shatter into millions of pieces.
I am at home before I break and I sink, sobbing, to the floor behind my closed door.
danny's not eating, he's drinking and sleeping in
I saw him last night at a party, he's definitely thin
he says he's happy, he looked pretty good but I think
that as the sun rises on mary, it sets on him
"Jasper, it's me. I just wanted to make sure you were doing alright."
o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o
"Jasper, me again. Please call me."
o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o
"J, please, don't do this. Please call me."
o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o
"Jasper. Goddamnit. I know you're hurt, but please call me."
o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o
"J. Please don't do this to me. Please don't leave me too." My voice breaks and I disconnect quickly. I lay my head against the cool wood surface of my desk. The ache inside of me is unbearable. It feels like a cancer, eating away at my organs, swallowing me whole from the inside out.
It has been two weeks since I've talked to Jasper. Two months since Mary Alice disappeared. I have never gone this long without the two of them. I am one of the walking wounded, wandering through my life without purpose.
I go to class, I work on my thesis, and I visit with friends. I remember none of it. I vacillate between not having the energy to move to being unable to be still. Even now I am pacing up and down my hallway.
Anxiety coils in a tight ball in the pit of my stomach and the need for action vibrates through my limbs.
I grab my keys and head outside, locking the door behind me. I forget the action as soon as I have completed it. I stalk down the street, heedless to direction, mindless of the admiring glances from strangers.
It is only as I'm standing outside Jasper's apartment building that I recognize where I am. I hesitate across the street, staring at his windows, wondering if he's inside. I finger the cell phone in my pocket, considering calling him again.
Screw it. If he isn't going to answer my calls, I'll just show up and make him talk to me.
With unexpected resolve, I clench my teeth and cross the street. I jog up to the second floor and pause outside of his door to calm my breathing. My heart is pounding in my chest and I suddenly know without any doubt that he is here. I know he is within reach and I sway slightly, shivers of anticipation racing up my arms.
Just as I am about to knock on the door, it swings open and a man that I don't recognize is standing there. He doesn't see me since he is looking back over his shoulder. I stagger back towards the other side of the hall.
"Jazzy, honey, thanks for last night. I'll call you later!" He faces forward just as I hear a low reply from just inside the door. He spots me before I can move. "What the fuck are you looking at?" He sneers at me. I mumble something incoherent and take off down the hall, trying to act like I had merely been walking past the door when he opened it.
I turn the corner and listen to his footsteps fade down the long hallway. I lean my head back against the wall and cover my eyes. I cannot help the quick snort of hysterical laughter that erupts from me.
Jasper has always been the most sexually free of the three of us. Mary Alice was raised Catholic and suffered all of the repression and guilt associated with it. I was raised with impossibly high expectations for my future and even now have a hard time breaking free from them. For Jasper though, love was just….love. He didn't care what form it took.
o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o
We were juniors the first time he fell for a guy. Mary Alice and I were at her apartment, waiting for Jasper to show up for what he affectionately called our Monday Movie night. I don't remember what we had queued up to watch, but I remember Mary Alice's fingers in my hair. I was wearing it pretty long at the time and she was sectioning it off and then braiding the sections. Then when she got done, she would run her fingers through it and the braids would untangle themselves. The motion was soothing.
There was a knock on the door, but before we could move, Jasper pushed the door open and walked in, grinning. I was already in love with him and my heart rate doubled in my chest at his smile. He bounded across the room and threw himself down on the couch beside Mary Alice.
"What's going on with you?" She laughed, combing her fingers through my hair.
"Well, my darling girl, I have met someone." Mary Alice's hands tightened in my hair before relaxing. I rolled my eyes. Jasper was forever meeting the next love of his life. Most of the time their relationship cooled after only a couple of weeks.
"Who is she this time?" I queried, shifting my body so that I could see both him and Mary Alice.
"She is a he." I heard Mary Alice gasp softly beside me. Jasper continued like he didn't hear her. "His name is Josh and he's in my chemistry lab, which is pretty appropriate considering the amount of chemistry between us." He laughed softly and white-hot envy shot through me. I had never seen Jasper like this. He was, well, glowing.
They dated for six very long months before parting amicably. It was the first time that anybody had threatened our trio. Mary Alice and I did our best to be supportive, wanting Jasper to be happy.
I lived in terror the whole time that it would be a man who finally won Jasper's heart.
o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o
I shake myself out of my reverie and peek around the corner. Finding the coast clear, I make my way back to Jasper's and knock. He finally opens the door and I try to suppress my shock at his appearance. His face is gaunt, his eyes are bloodshot, and even though it's after noon on a Wednesday, he looks like he just rolled out of bed.
"Hey," he says simply, before turning and walking back into the apartment. He has always been thin, but he's lost at least fifteen pounds since Mary Alice left. His ribs are painfully evident under the skin stretched taut across his back.
I follow him through the living room into the kitchen. I watch as he sniffs at a takeout container before wrinkling his nose and tossing it back into the refrigerator. Instead of food, he pulls out a bottle of beer, pops the top and takes a long swallow.
"You haven't been returning my calls," I say finally. I am unable to bear the silence any longer and his appearance has chipped away at my stoic demeanor. I find myself fighting back tears as another piece of my heart falls away. I wonder suddenly if I will ever be whole again.
His only response to my accusation is to shrug his shoulders. He is avoiding my gaze. I swallow hard.
"I'm sorry," he says finally, turning back to me. "I've just been busy, you know. Going out and working and all." He won't meet my eyes, looking instead over my left shoulder.
I debate pushing the issue, demanding to know who had just left. I fight the urge to throw myself at him and plead with him to let me in, to not do this, to not push me away. My fingers are locked in an iron grip on the edge of his counter.
He looks awful, but I can't help but want him. He is so beautiful, even damaged; he looks like an avenging angel. He is still my beautiful boy and I want nothing more than to pull him to me and soothe away the hurt that is evident on his face.
"How are you doing?" I ask finally. Again he waits before he answers me.
"I'm good, you know. We got some new pieces down at the gallery that I'm working on cataloguing. Things are going pretty well."
I am not fooled by his bravado. His voice, usually so smooth and calm, has an edge to it. I realize with a shock that there is a note of warning. He is warning me not to pry any further.
He has never closed me out to this extent before. I long for Mary Alice with her quick humor and trilling laugh. As much as it hurt to see them together, at least he was happy then. Right now I want nothing more than for her to be here, making him smile.
I want him to smile, no matter the personal cost to myself.
He is looking at me finally, taking large swallows from his bottle. An odd look crosses his features and I realize that I am staring at him with my mouth hanging open and tears pooling in my eyes.
My mouth snaps shut and I look away, blinking away the moisture that threatens. I am suddenly exhausted, defeated by this angry stranger standing in front of me. Jasper finishes his beer and clears his throat. He steps in front of the sink and tosses the bottle in the recycling bin in the cabinet.
"Look, is there something you needed? I really need to get to work." His voice is gruff and impatient. He runs his hands through his hair and, for just a tiny moment, something that looks like guilt flashes through his eyes. But it is gone almost before I can name it.
"Of course," I whisper, shaking my head. He follows me to the door and reaches around to open it for me. His hand rests for a split second on my back, but then I am out in the hall and he is closing the door behind me.
"Take care," he calls before shutting the door. The deadbolt slides into place and I realize that this is the first time that he has ever locked me out of his apartment.
danny came over last night and I cooked for him
we talked about you mary and how much we loved you still
he told me he's packed up your books and your letters and things
and as the sun sets on mary, it's rising on him
"Can I see you?" His voice is soft, gentle. After a month of not hearing from him, the words are aloe on parched skin, cool and soothing. He is hesitant, like I could ever turn him away.
"I'll cook," I say simply.
o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o
My stomach is in knots all day. It's been a month since I've seen him. I have continued my life without him or Mary Alice. Every day I have gotten out of bed, gone to the library to work on my thesis, and written pages and pages of a book that I didn't know was inside me. I have eaten meals, laughed with other friends, and even gone on dates. The whole time an aching, unending emptiness has echoed through me.
My hands shake as I remove ingredients from my refrigerator. I have opted for something simple, something I don't need concentration to make.
I curse as the knock finally sounds on my door, making me jump and drop the green bell pepper that I am holding. I race to the door, my heart in my throat.
And then he is there. His face has filled out again, his blue eyes are clear, and he is smiling at me, dimple winking from his left cheek. I cannot help but smile back. Even after all of this time, I love him more than I ever thought possible.
"Hi," Jasper whispers, leaning forward and brushing his lips across my cheek. The move stuns me and I stand motionless as he walks past me into my apartment. I follow him through to my kitchen, my heart pounding in my chest.
Wordlessly I pour him a glass of the red wine that I've set out on the counter to breathe. He hops up on a stool at the island, stealing a couple of cherry tomatoes from a bowl on the counter. The action reminds me so much of the old Jasper that I grin before I can stop myself.
He watches me as I begin to chop the vegetables, fresh peppers and onions for the sauce I have planned. We catch up while I start dinner. He earned a promotion at the gallery where he works and decided to go back to school next year. I tell him about my thesis, but not about the book I am writing. It feels too personal to share just yet even, maybe especially, with him.
We are both ignoring the large pink elephant between us.
Finally he acknowledges the subject matter we are both avoiding. "I boxed up Mary Alice's stuff." The knife falters as I lose my rhythm over the vegetables. He continues, seemingly without noticing my misstep. "I still haven't heard from her so it seemed like the thing to do. I found a small storage unit. I'm taking the boxes over tomorrow."
My voice sounds foreign when I find it. "I think that's probably a good idea."
We fall into silence again. I finish the vegetables and turn to the stove, putting a pot of water on to boil for pasta and pouring oil in a pan for the sauce. When I turn back to the cutting board, Jasper is watching me. His eyes are huge in his face and I realize his lip is trembling.
"Were you ever going to tell me that you were in love with me?" He asks finally. I can feel my face heating and I fidget uncomfortably. I don't ask how he knows. It was never a matter of "if" he found out, only "when."
I swallow hard and place my hands flat on the counter. I can't face him. I can't look into the face of my beloved and tell him how I have longed for him.
"It wouldn't have been fair. You were with Mary Alice." I shake my head and turn away. "I loved you both too much to come between you."
"But before that?" I can only close my eyes and shake my head again. I hear the feet of the stool scrape against the floor as he stands. I am trembling, afraid that he is going to leave again.
Instead, I feel his hand on my arm. He exerts just enough pressure to have me turning toward him. I keep my eyes downcast, seemingly entranced by the scuffs on his brown cowboy boots.
His hands cup my face and his thumbs trace caresses across my cheekbones until I find the courage to look at him. Jasper looks at me intently, tracing the bruise-like circles under my eyes.
"You haven't been sleeping," he whispers. I close my eyes, suddenly ashamed that he finds me like this. He is achingly, otherworldly beautiful and I know without a doubt that I am not worthy of his attention.
"You're so magnificent," he continues and I look at him in shock. "All of these years, I never really saw you. She was always the center of us, so bright that she blinded me to anything else. But it was you. All of these years, it was you." His voice is full of reverence.
Jasper steps closer to me, backing me up against my countertop and my lungs cease working. He pauses, a breath away from my mouth. His hands are tangled in my hair and he smells like vanilla and wine and everything that is good in this world. His body is flush against mine and the edge of the counter is hard against my back.
My hand rests on his chest and I can feel his heartbeat thundering under his shirt. After a long tortuous moment, his lips find mine and I am lost. I am free-falling through space and time and there is no bottom to this canyon and I am scared and then I am flying, soaring through blue skies until my heart threatens to burst with sheer joy.
I am kissing him back. My hands find purchase in his blond locks; my fingers scrape along his scalp, eliciting a strangled moan from him. His mouth opens; he deepens the kiss by molding his mouth around my bottom lip before pulling back. We are both panting.
"Edward," he whispers, and my name has never sounded so elegant or loved. "I'm so sorry that I never knew, that I never saw." I could weep with the elation that is flooding through me at his words.
We never get around to finishing dinner. The pasta is uncooked and the vegetables remain chopped on the cutting board on the counter.
o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o - o
I am lying on my couch, watching the full white moon sink lower and lower in the sky over the city. Jasper's body is tucked up against mine and I can tell by his even breathing that he is finally asleep.
We have talked and kissed and marveled at the love between us. There is no space for regret for the time that we have lost. We talked about the future, about missing Mary Alice, and how much we still love her and want her to come home. There is no small amount of anger in both of us for her actions.
But as the sun rises, slowly illuminating the buildings outside, I know that we will move past this. And more importantly, Jasper is here, with me. And I know that we will be okay.
There has never been a more beautiful morning.
and we danced and we drank and I've seen some things
you probably never got a chance to see
don't worry mary, cuz I'm taking care of danny
and he's taking care of me
A/N So what do you think? Remember, reviews are better than Jasper's scuffed cowboy boots. =)