A/N: So, I decided to keep going with this, and I won't stop until the ideas run dry. I'm venturing into uncharted territory here. Usually, I write straight from my head, never using an outline or planning things beyond the next chapter. Because of the nature of the characters and locations in this story, a little preparation and research needed to be done. Stick with me here, kids, and if I get some minor details wrong, forgive me. This is FanFiction, after all. If I was a published author, I'd have an army of people to do the research for me. Keep that in mind when you send me your thoughts.
In case you were wondering about the story title, and that of the chapters, I am using snippets of translations from the book of Hosea. I am not, in any way, shape or form a religious person, but while doing some research on the title, I found certain phrases very fitting. We'll see how long that lasts.
As usual, I don't own Twilight. SM does.
Chapter One
Some Will Return
"Whitlock!" my commanding officer screamed. "Get your ass in gear. You fly out in less than two hours."
I had just finished packing for my trip back to The States, and was waiting impatiently for transport to the airfield. I had completed my final tour of duty in Iraq, and I was grateful that I had seen the last of my combat days. I had witnessed enough death and destruction to last a lifetime.
"I'm ready, Sir," I replied. He didn't need me to explain further. He understood the double meaning behind my words.
"We'll miss you around here, Gunner," he said, clapping me on the back. "In all my years, I've never met a sharper shooter. Quantico is lucky to be getting you."
"Thank you, Sir. I'd really like to say I'll miss you, but I typically don't make a habit of lying to my superior officers."
He laughed heartily and scratched his scruffy chin. "Get your ass out of my camp before I call the MP's and have you dragged off base."
I raised my hands in a gesture of defeat before taking a step back and saluting him. "It was an honor sir. Take care of yourself."
"And you as well," he replied, returning the salute. "Good luck to you son."
Once dismissed, I exited my quarters, and I didn't look back.
* * *
I was about four hours into my flight to Heathrow Airport when the Captain announced that, due to severe weather in London, all connecting flights were either being delayed or canceled. I chuckled to myself, thinking that even when I wanted to go home, something always prevented me from getting there. It was the story of my life.
I wasn't really bothered by it, though. It wasn't as if I had anyone to go home to. My mother and father passed away several years before, and besides Emmett, I knew practically no one in Virginia. But I couldn't wait to get back on American soil.
Of all my tours, the last one had been the hardest. I'd chosen to go back for my second, thinking that pouring myself into my work would help me get over my grief, but it only served to remind me of everything I'd lost. By my third and final one, I was on autopilot. I focused and did my job, but in the process, lost a bit of my humanity, and I still had yet to face my pain. I had a feeling that once back in The States and all on my own, I'd finally be forced to deal with it. Deep down, I knew I had to, but I wasn't looking forward to it.
I didn't think I would ever come to terms with Edward's death, and I cringed as the constant ache in my chest intensified. It always happened when I thought of him. Knowing that it should have been me blown to pieces on the road that day instead of him...the guilt was overwhelming. He had everything and everyone waiting for him back at home. I had no one to mourn my loss...no home to go back to. It couldn't wrap my brain around the senselessness of it all. Not for the first time, I wished I could go back and replay the events of that day. Knowing at that point what I didn't know way back then, the choices I made would have been entirely different.
I was pulled from my thoughts as the flight attendant announced the beginning of our descent into London. They called out the delays and cancellations of the many connecting flights and hearing mine, I knew I'd have to find somewhere to sleep that night. While I'd slept in shittier places in my lifetime, I really didn't feel like spending the night at Heathrow.
Because of the time change, there was still daylight in London, so when we landed and I had claimed my bag, I headed directly to the hotel information booth. I would worry about changing my flight later. My main concern was booking a room before the entire city was sold out of accommodations.
As luck would have it, I was able to make a reservation for a hotel in South Kensington, an area I was relatively familiar with from my many visits to London. I stopped at the currency exchange first, then walked out to grab a taxi and was on my way to the hotel within minutes. The snow was coming down heavily, which was rare for London, so the ride took much longer than it should have. It always amazed me how whole cities could be practically shut down just because they weren't used to a little bit of inclement weather.
Finally arriving at the hotel, I chuckled when I read it's full name on the sign in front...The Edwardian Vanderbilt. I looked up at the sky, snowflakes hitting my face and lashes, and grinned. "Still looking out for me, aren't you, Edward?"
* * *
I took a shower almost the very moment I entered my room, thrilling at the feel of the pressure and heat of the water against my skin. After spending so many years in the military, a good shower was a luxury, and one I happily took advantage of. The whole "shit, shower and shave in under five minutes" scenario would no longer apply to my life.
I tried to take a nap, but sleep, as usual, evaded me. I turned on the television, but found nothing remotely entertaining to watch. I hadn't been to a good book store in years, relying solely on the shitty selection at the PX for reading material, so I had nothing with me to read, either.
I thought I might possibly take a walk, but changed my mind abruptly after looking out the window. A blanket of white covered everything, and while I welcomed the cold after so many years of the searing desert heat, I didn't feel like trudging through the snow. My options were limited, so I decided to head downstairs to the bar, in search of another thing I had greatly missed...a decent beer.
The bar was bustling with people who, like me, were stuck in London for an undetermined amount of time. I found a single bar stool and sat down, waiting patiently for the obviously overwhelmed bartender to appear before me.
"What'll it be, mate?" he asked.
"Pint of Beamish, please," I replied, setting my money on the bar.
"American?" he asked, eying the cash as he placed my beer in front of me.
I chuckled. "How could you tell?"
"Leaving money in a pile on the bar is an exclusively American thing," he said, laughing.
"Old habits die hard, I guess." I left the small change on the bar and placed the bills back in my wallet.
I sat quietly for a while, eavesdropping now and then on the conversations going on around me, and when I had finished my first beer, the bartender set another in front of me. "That's on the young lady at the end of the bar." He nodded in the direction of a tall redhead, winked at me and walked off to serve another customer. I raised my glass at her, silently offering my gratitude, and took a long pull from the glass.
I knew I wasn't up for company, and to be honest, she wasn't exactly my type, but it seemed I'd have no choice in the matter. She was slowly making her way through the crowd of people, heading straight for me.
"Hi," I smiled. "Thank you for the beer."
"Hello, yourself," she replied with a thick Irish accent. "I'm Victoria, and you're very welcome."
"I'm Jasper. Nice to meet you." I extended my hand to greet her, and noticed her sway slightly as she took it.
She leaned in closer, her voice barely audible over the crowd. "Would you like some company?"
I could smell the alcohol on her breath through her slurred speech, and as I took in her glassy eyes and unsteady movements, I wished I was anywhere else but there at that particular moment. It wasn't in my nature to be rude, though, so I answered her question. "Actually, I'm waiting for someone."
I hated lying to anyone, even a complete stranger, but I really didn't want to get stuck taking care of a drunk woman for the entirety of the evening. I pulled my hand away from hers, noticing the frown on her face at the loss of contact. I smiled at her, hoping to soften the blow, and she quickly rearranged her face into a look of what I assumed to be fierce determination. She lifted her hand and ran one long fingernail across my shoulder and down my arm. "Well, I wouldn't mind keeping you busy until your friend gets here."
"Actually, I can take it from here," a sweet voice said from behind her.
Victoria whipped around to see the person who had spoken to her, and as she turned, my breathing quickened and my heart began pounding loudly in my chest.
"I'm so sorry I'm late Jasper," she said, stepping in front of Victoria and placing a kiss on my cheek.
"It's okay," I managed to mutter, playing along. My nerves were so shattered I was shocked that I was able to speak at all. "Victoria here has been nice enough to chat with me until you got here."
She smiled brightly at the woman. "Thanks so much for keeping him company, Victoria. Have a lovely night." It was a clear dismissal, and Victoria immediately turned and stalked off.
I sat there in stunned silence, staring at the woman standing in front of me. She grinned at me before stepping forward and placing her tiny arms around my neck.
"Jasper," she whispered into my ear as she hugged me.
"Bella," I said quietly as I enveloped her in my arms.
* * *
Something in me had shifted. I couldn't put my finger on it, either what it was, or what caused it, but there was a change nonetheless the moment I put my arms around her. I felt like I was in the midst of a life-altering event; something monumental had just happened to me, but the edges were still blurred and the exact nature of it was undefined. All I knew was that I felt...different.
My senses were overwhelmed as I held her. I could feel each individual strand of her long hair brushing against the back of my hand. Her heartbeat pounded loudly in my ears, a strong and distinct rhythm separate and detectable from my own. I could smell the scent of her shampoo and the perfume at her pulse points. And the warmth of her...it was radiating through me, so hot that I felt I might melt at her touch.
It scared the hell out of me. She scared the hell out of me. She was a strong tie to memories of the past that I had yet to deal with emotionally. In her presence, they immediately bubbled to the surface, and it took all the strength I had to push them back down, deep inside the chasm of despair that sat in my chest. The last thing I wanted was to burden her with my emotions. I'd hurt her so much already, just by being alive.
I pulled back from our embrace, needing the space to clear my mind of the thoughts I was having. When I saw her face and the tears spilling down and over her cheeks, my heart, or at least what was left of it, broke.
"Please don't cry, Bella," I soothed. "I can't stand to see you so sad."
A small grin spread across her face at my words. It both confused me and allowed me a bit of hope that my very presence wasn't causing her as much pain as it probably should. "I'm not sad, Jasper. I'm so happy to see you. I promise, they're happy tears."
Relief washed over me, and then confusion again. "How can you be happy to see me, Bella? I...I...God, I can't even say it."
"Jasper," she sighed, placing one of her fingers over my lips, "Stop."
I hung my head, ashamed of myself for reminding her of her pain. I knew how badly I hurt at the thought of Edward. For her, the grief had to have been crippling. "I'm sorry, Bella. I'm just...I'm so shocked to see you here, and I don't know how I'm supposed to behave around you."
"Come here," she said, extending one of her little hands. I took it in mine and allowed her to lead me to a small couch across the room, right next to a burning fireplace. She sat down and pulled me along with her. Facing me, she placed her free hand against my cheek and I leaned into the warmth of her touch.
"Jasper, we were friends once. A lot has happened since then, but it doesn't mean we can't be again." Her voice was gentle and soothing, and it wrapped around me, comforting me.
"I've missed you," I whispered. "I've missed so much..." I couldn't continue. The emotions swirling around inside me were threatening to surface once again, and for both our sake's, I needed to tamp that shit down immediately.
Bella looked at me then, sweetness emanating from her big brown eyes. "So, let's start over, shall we?" she asked.
I nodded and, noticing her smiling brightly at me, relaxed minutely.
"Why don't you begin by telling me what you're doing here?"
And so I told her of my being grounded by bad weather, of my second and third tours in Iraq, and how I'd recently been assigned to be an instructor at the Sniper Scout training school at Quantico.
She was grinning from ear to ear as I said that I'd be relocating to Virginia. "You've got to be shitting me," she beamed.
"Why is that?" I asked, perplexed by her reaction.
"Because I live in D.C.," she replied. "I suppose we'll be able to see a good deal of each other now that you're moving back to The States."
My heart nearly split in two at her words. One part of me was thrilled about the possibilities of gaining some semblance of our friendship back, but the other part, the more dominant part of me, worried that seeing her more frequently would bring the pain I had yet to deal with more quickly to the surface. I was excited and scared shitless all at once.
Needing a break from those thoughts, I turned the conversation to her. "So now that you know what I'm doing here, why don't you tell me why you're here?" We settled back against the couch as she began to speak.
"I'm here for a conference, actually. I've been working with the ICRC for a few years now as a counselor, and I'm attending an international symposium on women and children in wartime situations."
"What's the ICRC?" I asked.
"The International Committee of the Red Cross," she replied.
"Wow," I stated, dumbfounded. "I had no idea."
"Yeah, well, after Edward died, I sort of needed something to throw myself into. Something else to focus on besides the grief, you know?" I winced and recoiled at her words, but before I could follow along with where my thoughts were leading me, she stopped me dead in my tracks.
"Don't Jas. Don't do that," she demanded.
"How can I not? Whether you want to admit it or not, it's my fault he's dead. It's my fault you're sitting here with me instead of him. It's my fault!"
I couldn't help the tears that flooded my eyes. Years and years of pain began expelling itself from my body, and I was powerless to stop it. Bella's arms were around me instantly, rocking me gently as her hands smoothed up and down my back.
"How can you be so nice to me?" I sobbed against her shoulder. "How can you not hate me?"
She pulled away and placed her hands on my shoulders. I kept my eyes on my lap, unable to face her gaze. "Look at me, Jasper," she begged.
I lifted my eyes, the fear of what I would see reflected back at me gripping me and threatening to crush me. What I found instead was kindness.
"I'm going to say this to you once, and only once, okay?" she asked, and I nodded, still unable to speak. "I do not blame you for his death. I never did, and I never will. If there's anyone to blame, it's the monster who built that I.E.D."
I shook my head, unable to comprehend her thought process. If the shoe had been on the other foot, I'm pretty sure I would have been harboring nothing but hatred and ill will, but then, she had always been a better person than me. "But he wasn't supposed to be on point that day," I choked out. "If I hadn't...Oh, God! It should have been me!"
She pulled me to her again, rocking me gently and whispering words of compassion. Words I didn't earn or deserve, yet somehow soothed the ache in my chest. "Enough, now," she murmured. "Enough. I want to talk about this with you again, but now isn't the time."
I nodded against her shoulder, embarrassed at soaking her shirt. She pulled away from me and looked at me again. "Are we okay, now?" she asked.
"Yes," I muttered. "Thank you for being so...so understanding. I don't know if I deserve it, but thank you, nonetheless."
We sat in silence for a moment, neither of us apparently knowing what to say to the other. Bella was the one who finally spoke first. "So, how long will you be in London?"
I chuckled and shook my head. "I have no idea. My flight was canceled, and I forgot to check in with the airline to see when I could get another one."
She looked thoughtful for a moment, her eyes never moving from her hands in her lap. "I have to be here for a few more days, before I head to Africa for two weeks. Would you...would you consider staying a few days? I mean, I have to be at the conference during the day tomorrow, but then I have a few days to myself before leaving. I'd like the opportunity to get to know you again, Jasper."
She looked up at me then, her big eyes in no way concealing her nervousness behind them. I sat quietly for a time, taking in her beautiful features and realized that no matter how hard it would be to be around her, she would always be tied to me, and because of that, I could deny her nothing.
"Okay," I agreed quietly.
"Okay?" she grinned.
"Yes, I'll stay."
Bella threw her arms around my neck, whispering her thanks, and I couldn't help but notice how good it felt to have her embracing me. I quickly shook off those thoughts, reminding myself that she was Edward's girl, and I had no business thinking of her like that.
"So," she began, "I don't know about you, but I'm pretty wiped out. I think I'm going to head to bed. Walk me to my room?"
I nodded and let her lead me to the small elevator just outside the bar. We stopped on the third floor and I laughed when she stood outside room 306.
"What's so funny?" she asked.
"I'm in 308," I chuckled.
"You know what that means, Jas?" she asked, looking at me with a serious expression. I simply shook my head.
"It means we were supposed to see each other again. It was fate stepping in," she continued.
I grinned at her, realizing that it was probably so much more than that. Considering the events of the day – the flight cancellations, the name of the hotel, my impromptu reunion with Bella – I knew something bigger than fate was at work. I had never been one to believe in the supernatural, but taking account of what happened that day, I wasn't so willing to dismiss the idea that Edward had plans for us both.
"So," I said, taking a step closer to her and gripping one of her hands in mine. "Thanks for saving me from Victoria tonight."
She smiled radiantly at me. "Any time, Jasper."
"Goodnight, Bella. Knock on my door before you leave tomorrow and we'll make plans. Sleep well." And then, without thought, I bent forward and kissed her cheek.
I heard her sigh, and I pulled back, hoping that I hadn't crossed a line. Her closed eyes told me that I had, in fact, not.
"Sweet dreams, Jasper," she said before turning and opening her door.
I stood there until the door was closed behind her, then made my way to my own room, right next door. I stripped off my clothes and got in bed, staring at the ceiling and replaying the events of the day on a constant loop in my mind.
Before I let sleep take me, I looked up one more time and whispered into the air, "I hope you know what you're doing, here, buddy, because I sure as hell don't."
