Permanent :- Twilight- Jasper Hale.

Chapter two- Heightened senses.

Summary: "This is reality now. This is my life." She pulled Jasper towards her, stroking gentle fingers over his cheek, jaw line, red eyes meeting golden, "You're my life now. You are all there is." JASPER/OC

I DO HAVE TO SAY THAT RENESMEE DID NOT HAPPEN AND JACOB IS WITH ALICE =] (They got over their differences!)

Just pretend that Carlisle has a small medical room =] I can't remember if he does if not then imagine! If he does then go me! Aha!

Carlisle Cullen? Who in the world is Carlisle Cullen?

A chuckle, musical, a reply, "I'm a doctor."

She didn't know if she had said that out loud to warrant an answer or if her face had shown some confusion, but he had answered anyway so she took what she could get.

"Your eyes are open." It was a statement more than a question. She could not see her new acquaintance, only the whitewashed ceiling above her so she guessed he couldn't see her face either. "Do not panic," his voice said, "You will need more time to get used to the effect and the full transition."

"Transition?" Her voice sounded different to her own ears, hoarse, probably from all the screaming she knew she had been doing, but there was something else too, something just, different, not necessarily wrong, maybe better, something more musical like Carlisle's, something twinkling like a beautiful cacophony of sound that she had never heard emerge from her own mouth before. Different, in a good way she thought.

"As I said, you've been through many changes."

"Changes?" She repeated, and there was her voice again, her voice which was, it seemed, improved.

"Emma?" he asked, his voice sounded closer, maybe he had stepped forward an inch or an inch and a half from his previous position. She couldn't tell how she could notice such a subtle movement, such a slight change, but she was sure of it. "How much do you remember?" She didn't answer right away, instead she propped her body up onto her elbows, feeling strangely lightweight and glanced around her. Walls of the same whitewash colour, a large cabinet with a role of bandage and a small metal pair of scissors placed neatly on the top and some vile of liquid that she didn't recognise. It was this liquid that gained her full attention. It was clear, at least it should have been, but she could see colours, different versions of clearness, particles, miniscule air bubbles rising from the bottom of the vile and popping on the surface. That one small thing, small vile, was like a most intricate painting. She was seeing something so plain as if it were a piece of work by one of the worlds greats, like a masterpiece of Van Gogh. She blinked, wondering if maybe she had hit her head. Maybe her eyes had been damaged. It would explain why she couldn't remember anything too. Remember. Oh right, the doctor had asked her a question.

"Nothing," she replied finally, eyes roaming again, picking up things she would probably have never noticed before. Before what she didn't know. "Just pain. So much pain."

"Before the pain?" he asked without hesitation as if he had expected that to be her answer.

"I was in Seattle. With my sister. Then I was alone. Then pain." Her answer was fragmented, unsure, exactly how her mind felt as she finally found the doctor with her eyes. Her first, surprising thought was that he seemed too young to be a doctor, he couldn't have been more than twenty five. He was different, pale, golden eyed, a gold she had never seen on a person before, had she not been so confused, she probably would have thought him beautiful. His hair was a light blonde, she would have thought it fake had he not been so youthful. His smile was warm and welcoming and apart from the fact that his skin made him look like he should be buried six feet under the ground he seemed welcoming and gentle and Emma realised that she did not feel scared, though she was in a strange place with a strange doctor and she had apparently underwent some unspecified changes.

"Where am I?" she asked.

"You're in my house. Forks Washington."

"Not far from Seattle." she stated, frowning, "How did I get here?"

There was a pause as he considered his answer, then, "My son, Edward and his wife found you in an alley in Seattle, they brought you here."

"Why? Why not take me to a hospital?" Surely, if she were injured, the hospital would have been the best thing, not a doctors home. "If I was sick or in pain, why bring me here?" She felt the small glimmer of fear that ignited in her stomach burn, though it was immediately quenched by a wave of calmness, from an unknown source.

"You were not sick Emma." his voice was imploring, as if he felt she should know the truth that he seemed hesitant to tell.

"Doctor Cullen?" she asked, "What's happening? What are you tal-" her voice trailed off as she became acutely aware of the slightest movement outside of the heavy wooden door, just behind the doctor where he stood. Just the faintest shuffling of feet, a slight change of position. Something she never would have heard before.

There was that word again. Before. Before what?

"How many people are out there?" she asked and the doctor didn't seem surprised that she knew of the other peoples presence.

"My family." he stated quietly. "They are understandably curious Emma, though I've asked them to wait outside until your ready. Until you are used to it."

Emma closed her eyes, and pushed herself off of the cot she'd been lying on, revelling at the hundred different textures of the sheet beneath her fingertips, it was as if she could feel each yarn, each stitch of the pattern.

Her legs felt shaky, but at the same time stronger than they had ever been and she did not wobble as her feet touched the ground. In fact she was completely steady, something she hadn't managed to master much at all in her twenty years of life, she hadn't been clumsy, neither had she been the most graceful member of the gang and had always been slightly wobbly on her feet. The doctor stood stock still, his stance relaxed, though he eyed her warily, as if she were dangerous in some way, which was ridiculous, Emma would never hurt a fly. She took some time to relax herself, breathing deeply but instead of any form of relaxation her nose was hit with a myriad of a thousand scents, some familiar, some she had never before experienced. There was the odour of a cleaning fluid, maybe bleach or some kind of medical cleaner. The soft scent of summer leaves drenched in rains, after all summer barely existed in Forks and its neighbouring towns. There was the smell of a sweet shampoo, she guessed it was hers, or maybe the doctors. The piny scent of wood polish, the earthy scent of mud, which had to have been coming from outside, this room was sterile like, clean. How could she possibly smell mud from outside? How was that possible? It wasn't.

She closed her eyes and attempted to stop breathing just to keep the scents away, at the closure of those senses her hearing tweaked some more. She could hear those people outside the door, shuffling again, probably pressing against the door to hear what was going on, she could hear the beat of wings by the window, expecting to see a bird she whipped her head around and instead her eyes zeroed in on a tiny fly, no bigger than a thumbnail. No way. The animals buzzing was much louder than it should have been. How was it that every sense was multiplied.

She turned to the doctor again, ignoring the way her eyes picked up every separate yarn of his medical jacket, each varied shade of blue in the dress shirt he wore underneath, each shade of blonde in his hair. Ignoring the way the dust particles floating in front of him, illuminated by the meagre light shining through the window seemed brighter and clearer than any star. "What is happening to me?"

His face seemed sad and panic built up inside her again, but, as before it was immediately smothered by a wave of calmness.

"Before I explain anything." he started, "I need you to look at yourself in the mirror."

Emma frowned, "Why?"

"Do it." he replied, and though his command wasn't angry or too loud she complied, walking, with much lighter footing than before she noticed, towards the full length mirror that seemed completely out of place in what Emma assumed was a medical room. Reflected in the mirror, she saw not herself, but a girl who looked like her in some ways only infinitely, better. Her skin, where once she had been more tanned was now the same pale colour as the doctors, her hair was thicker, lusher, shinier and softer to the touch, where once it had been drier and plain, she now saw an infinite amount of colours, hundreds of different shades of auburn. Her body seemed, lither, healthier and she thought she might be a little taller. But the thing that startled her, scared her was her eyes. She remembered her eyes, though every time she thought back her memories were fuzzy hazy as if she was watching them though a glazed over window, her eyes had been blue, icy, her best feature her mother had always said. Like staring into the sea her father had said. Now though, the wide eyes that stared back from this improved Emma were not her own, but something else's, a monsters. Blood red, glowing almost. She gasped and shot those eyes towards the doctor.

"What am I?"

Jasper soon I promise! =]