I know, I know, its been forever please forgive. But I knew I was never going to abandon this little story so here we are again. And just so you know I'm already half way though the next chapter so please don't give up.

First I'd like to thank my awesome friend and pre-reader Yulliah Meghan author of A Twin Thing: over the last few months she has painstakingly tried her best to kick my ass and get me back to writing and I'm happy to say just a few days ago she accomplished that daunting task and now here I am.

Next my awesome hang in there beta Deβra Ann knowing how desperately I wanted to post this chapter she did her utmost to have it done and dusted within a few short days and for that and all else that you do I'll be forever grateful.

So enough of my small talk lets get down to the nitty gritty and get you back to your boys.

Then suddenly the tiny little hairs on the back of my neck spring to attention, and my blood runs cold when his sarcastic voice deep and monotone rings in my wary, frightened ears. "Edward?"

I jump to attention and my body freezes, as I feel the beads of sweat make their way from my hairline down over my forehead. It stings my eyes as it rolls across the bridge of my nose, slipping saltily between my tight fear-clenched lips.

My ears buzz and hum with the heavy pounding of my frantic heart, as it echoes loudly within them. My breathing is labored and shallow, the hard lump lodged at the back is threatening to suffocate me. I curse myself inwardly as my weakness and fear return tenfold, and I sense myself start to convulse. Anxiety creeps through my core as I nervously gnaw on the inside of my mouth, cringing when I feel my short, blunt nails dig painfully into the palms of my hands. Then a scared sob hiccups in the back of my throat when I hear his voice again.

"Edward!?... Edward?"

I tense even more. Every bone hurts and my muscles contract under the pressure. My eyes closed so tight, that tiny stars like Fourth of July fireworks dance behind my lids. And once again, the low, sour pitch washes over me, blanketing me in a veil of complete and utter terror.

"Edward?"

Then suddenly, without warning, my cloud lifts and my heart slows, as peace and serenity rolls through me. Slowly and nervously, I swallow hard, licking my dry lips as I will myself to let my eyes flutter open, and within a few blinks, they do. My breath nervously hitches, finding myself still faced with the closed door, the heavy wood looming watery in my blurred vision. And although it still fills me with complete alarm and horror, for some reason unbeknownst to me, confusing me slightly, I'm able to stare at it. For some reason I'm apparently unaware of, I'm able to confront it.

My body shakes with nervous tremors, unwilling and unable to hold it together. Drained and weary, it gives in to my shock, and I fall with a hard thud to my knees. I cling to myself tightly, as I let my still slightly trembling arms surround me, holding me - constricting me - trying their best to pull me together, as deep heavy sobs release angrily from my chest.

My ears, still humming, don't hear the sound, but my senses tingle as my fevered skin goose bumps, and within a few short strides he's by my side. My hair blows with the swiftness of his movements, his sweet scent causing me to catch my breath and my mind to spin uncontrollably when I realize, and the thought hits me hard, that Jasper, Jasper Cullen, is even here, as he kneels and places his hand warily, but gently, upon my shoulder.

And again, just barely above a whisper, I hear my name. "Edward?"

I can't look in his direction, my mind conflicted as I both hate and love the fact that he's here in the first place. But it makes me loathe myself for being weak and scared even more, and I detest myself for letting it show, and that he's getting to see this side of me. And as my breathing returns to normal and my heart rate slows, his soft, soothing, concerned voice finds its way to my tired, buzzing ears.

"Edward? Can you tell me what the hell happened? Are you okay?"

I still can't look at him. I can't find it in me to make eye contact or focus. The thought that he has seen me at my worst swirls frantically in my head, disgusting me, filling me with an even more consuming hatred for myself. Then suddenly, without warning, like a feather, I'm lifted. Still unable to look at him or voice a rebuttal, I let my face bury itself in his hard chest.

With the utmost of ease, he carries me. It's like I'm floating. My embarrassment causes me to press my face tighter into his shirt, unable to stop myself from inhaling his sweet scent; the flowery aroma washing over me, sending me barreling into a slightly comatose state. Like in a dream, I hear a door get pushed open, and I feel my limp body being gently placed on a soft surface. Once again, I sense him kneel as he caringly tucks a pillow under my head and wraps me attentively in a blanket.

At this moment, I have the urge to fight him, I want to yell and tell him to leave me be, to let me wallow in my own self-hatred and just fuck the hell off. But I can't, I don't have it in me, I don't even have the strength or courage needed to summon my very own pity party. The fact that he's here and wanting to see me safe and make sure I'm comfortable floods me with a need I've always been yearning for. And as I let my wary, anxious eyes find their way to his face and search his features, I'm taken aback by his concerned, dark, angry amber gaze.

His voice, though low and angry, softly fills my ears. "What happened, Edward? Tell me what's going on? I drive by and find your car trunk and front door just sitting open, only to see you frozen in your hallway. What the hell is going on? Can you explain? Did someone try to hurt you?"

Bringing my hand to my face, I scrub it angrily, running my fingers through my hair, tugging on the roots tight, needing to feel the sharp pain. Wanting it to center and help me focus, I do my best to look at him. His eyes are sad and show concern. My first reaction is to calm him with my touch, but I choose instead to grip the blanket like my life depens on it, and tuck it securely under my chin.

As his eyes search my face, I silently beg him not to ask any more questions. I watch nervously, hoping he understands, when suddenly he straightens, and in just a moment, he's on his feet. Looking up in his direction, bewildered, I watch confused as like a trained guard dog, he suspiciously sniffs the air. My head lightens, and I bolt upright, when I watch the blur that was once Jasper Cullen leave the room.

I have no time to think, no time to comprehend, as I hear his light footsteps hit the landing above my head. Swiftly doors are being opened, closets are being checked. Feeling my head spin, running my fingers angrily though my hair, I release a painful groan when I hit the pillow one more time. Closing my eyes, watching the stars dance, I try to calm my breathing and search frantically for my happy place, with no avail.

"Edward? Edward? Where the fuck are you?" It's dark! I can hear my heart pound in my ears as I listen to him search for me. Pulling my knees closer to my chest, resting my forehead on them, I hug myself even tighter, trying desperately to ward off the unconsciousness that so eagerly wants to visit me.

I'm brought up short, my heart skipping a beat and my anxious breath catching in the back of my throat, when I hear his heavy steps enter the master bathroom. He's mumbling under his breath. His sarcastic tone washes over me, making every hair stand at attention and my skin goose bump with uneasiness. He's cursing the day he ever met me, wondering out loud why he even bothers with such a selfish, no good, son-of-a-bitch like me.

Then my ears perk and I straighten. Running water? Why running water? He's filling the bath. What the fuck is he doing? Why would he be filling the bath?

I yelp when the hard, heavy door leading into the bedroom is pushed open, hitting the wall behind it with such angry force, I'm sure it will need to be repaired. I drag myself closer to the corner of the closet, folding into myself, trying to become small, desperately wanting to be invisible. My teeth chatter in fear, and I squeeze my form tighter, as it starts to convulse under my grip. I hide behind the long winter coats, twisting my toes inwards, straining my ankles, begging my pained bones not to forsake me now as they fight against me and my awkward self-preservation position, all in the hopes of not wanting to be found, or for that matter, seen.

Then I gulp one last long breath when the closet door swings abruptly open. Squeezing my eyes tight, holding myself closer, I wait in silence. "Edward? Edward? God damn it! Answer me, boy! I know you're fucking in here, you stupid fuck. Why are you making this harder on yourself? You know I'll find you."

Pressing my head to the back wall, wincing as the sharp pain runs over my skull and down the back of my neck, I don't move a muscle. Listening terrified as hangers swish around me, my throat nervously contracts when clothes are pulled and thrown to the floor at my feet.

Then with a force I've never felt before, I'm dragged by the hair to a standing position. I don't open my eyes, cause seriously, there's really nothing for me to see, not like I haven't seen it all before, not like it will do me much good. Instead, I wrap my arms around my chest, trying desperately to keep my zealous heart in the confines of my ribcage as my toes scramble for purchase, unable to find the floor beneath them.

And within seconds, he's nose to nose, causing me to swallow dirty bile as his sour breath washes over me. "Edward? What the fuck were you thinking? Did you really think you'd get away with the stunt you pulled today? Seriously, Edward, you must take me for some kinda fool, if you think I would let you just leave the house without my permission. And for what, Edward? So you can meet up with some slutty friend from your past? I don't think so, boy! I don't work long hours week in and week out to give you the best, just so you can run around with gutter trash."

My eyes shoot open. I feel the need to defend my friend; it wasn't his fault he called me, it wasn't his fault we used to and still do know the same people, and at one point hung out with the same crowd. And it wasn't his fault that all he wanted to do was hang out for a while and catch up. But as my lips part to form the words, a sharp pain stings my skin, my hand finding its way to my face, feeling the hot burn of his slap, my cool fingertips doing their best to ease it.

"Don't even fucking try it, Edward! Don't even waste your fucking time or breath, boy! Riley is an asshole. He always was. Yes, even in high school, Edward. Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! I know. You two had a thing for each other once, but that was once, Edward! You are mine now, I won - I got you. You belong to me, for fuck's sake."

And as I hang in midair, my feet still dangling, the tips of my toes frantically scraping the floor, he proceeds to rip the clothes from my body. Cursing and mumbling, he pushes and grabs at me like a wild caged animal. "No one, Edward! No one gets to touch you but me. Did he touch you, Edward? I'm sure he couldn't wait to get his grubby little fucking hands on you. Where the hell did he touch you, Edward? If you tell me you kissed, I swear to God I'm really going to lose it! I'm really going to have to kill someone!" And as he finally makes eye contact, and his dark, angered gaze stares at me, all I can do is sadly and weakly shake my head.

Finally giving in, finally succumbing to his advances and rage, I fall limp. Weeping deep and silently, my throat nose and chest hurt from the strain as he lifts me into his arms. Crushing me possessively to his broad chest, he carries me into the bathroom, and crudely throws me into the tub full of hot water.

I jump, startled, when a cool hand touches my forehead.I scramble back to the arm of the couch as my blurry star-studded vision does its best to come into focus. Releasing a sharp breath, I watch Jasper swiftly raise his hands in surrender, and gingerly take up residence on the floor by my side.

His concern eases me. The softness in his amber eyes, though darting between mine, enables me to center and find a little peace. And when I finally slump back down under the blanket, dragging air into my lungs, he continues his soft-spoken interrogation from earlier.

"Edward? What's going on? Someone was here; someone was in your house. Do you know who? Do you want me to call the police? Not that Charlie is much, but the concern to keep his town peaceful and his townspeople safe outweighs all the stupid that can sometimes run though his silly little head."

I chuckle darkly at the thought of the local police force, wondering if they would even have the resources to handle my darkest nightmare. Jasper senses my sarcasm, and shoots me a pointed look before continuing, "I know it's a small town; nothing much happens here. But Charlie would be concerned. He really should know if there's something to be worried about."

Sitting a little straighter, running my fingers through my damp hair, I answer him in the best way I know how. "Jasper, don't worry, I'm fine. It was a panic attack, is all. I'm prone to them. They happen from time to time. It's just the new place, I'm sure. It's just getting used to being by myself for certain."

I watch as his amber eyes narrow to almost slits. His nostrils flare and his usually plump lips tighten in what looks like anger. "Edward? Someone was here. An intruder was in your home, and for some reason that does not concern you?" Taken aback by his tone, it's my turn to question. "Someone, Jasper? Are you sure? How on earth would you know that?"

Eagerly he rises to his feet, seemingly caught off guard. The thought surprises me somewhat, as Jasper Cullen does not seem to be a person that can be caught off guard so easily. Then for a split second, I watch as he searches for the right wording. "Yes, someone, Edward! I could sme...I could sens...I just know! Believe me! I just know these things."

Looming over me, worry and anxiousness flooding his handsome features, feeling myself being hastily tucked back under the blanket, he continues. "Are you okay? Do you need anything? Anything? Just name it!?" Confused and bewildered, all I can manage is a small shake of my head. "I have to go, Edward, but I'll try to drop by later to make sure everything is okay." And with that, he was gone. No goodbye, not even a nonchalant shake of his hand as I hear the front door slam shut behind him.

Groggily, I awake. My stiffened bones crack as I turn slightly, letting my anxious eyes scan the room uneasily, taking in my surroundings once I realized I had, at some point, dozed off. Scrambling to my feet, noticing that it has gotten late, I watch in awe through the curtains as twilight falls amongst the large trees surrounding my yard. 'Damn! How long was I really out?' Sleepily, I head for the kitchen, determined to complete at least another task for the day, and clean up my discarded food mess from earlier. But as I enter the small space, my eyebrows raise in confusion. Hurriedly I open cupboards, drawers and the refrigerator, shocked and nervous when I see everything has been put away and in its place. I jump with a startle, a small, anxious yelp releasing from me when I hear the doorbell. Grabbing my chest, I chuckle sarcastically to myself. 'Really need to get used to that sound and stop being such a fucking pussy.'

Slowly I make my way to the front door. I sigh a breath of relief when I see the glowing smile and bright amber eyes of one beautiful Esme Cullen staring, concerned, back at me. "Edward!? You're finally awake! I stopped by earlier." Raising one well-manicured eyebrow, she continues. "Jasper was concerned, you know! But...anyways, you were passed out on the couch, and seriously, I hope you don't mind, but I thought I would lend a helping hand and put your food away before it spoiled. Hope that's okay? Sorry if I overstepped any boundaries, I didn't mean to, just wanted to help, is all. And you looked so peaceful sleeping, I felt it would be a shame to wake you."

Unable to help myself, I smile widely back at the gorgeous woman. 'Yeah! I know I'm gay, but believe me, I'm not dead. I have an eye for beauty, and Esme Cullen is a woman that will catch it every time.' Pulling the door wider, I signal her across the threshold, doing my utmost to reassure her as she steps into my hallway. "Oh, Esme, please! You could never overstep a boundary. I'm so glad you came; just sorry I was passed out and missed being in your delightful company." And as she glides gracefully by me, placing a hand on my chest, giggling like a schoolgirl, she quickly and confidently protests, "Oh, Edward! You say the nicest things. But really, it was no bother, and I'm here now. Let's head for the kitchen, and you can make me a nice hot cup of that Earl Grey you now have, and we can share a story or two."

Sipping on my hot, sweet tea, I sigh deeply as the calming fluid coats the back of my throat, soothing me instantly. I take a minute to stare across, watching Esme as she sits poker straight, but comfortable, staring her hot liquid, delicately, yet hypnotic-like, the steaming fluid not getting a chance to hit her plump, red lips, not wanting to mess her perfectly applied lipstick, I'm sure. My breath hitches when our eyes meet. My body slowly trembles at the overwhelming calming effect she has over me, relaxing and enabling me to melt slightly into the small, wooden chair.

But without warning, and before I could protest, she starts her motherly interrogation. "So, Edward!? Where is it you said you were from again? Forgive me, my memory is not as young as it used to be." Smiling softly in her direction, I answer. "Esme Cullen, you little sneak, I don't think I ever mentioned where I was originally from, but if you really must know, it's New York." The rim of the teacup doesn't reach her mouth, as her eyebrows shoot up in slight surprise, causing her to place it back on the table before she continues, "Ohhhh...oh...I so love New York. Only been there once or twice, mind you." I squint my eyes as I watch hers fade slightly, while she focuses on a spot somewhere on the wall behind me and momentarily gets lost in thought. Feigning a small cough I seem to bring her back to reality; she smiles wide and embarrassed before continuing, "Oh, yes I know New York well, and to be honest, that was way before your time, my dear, and I will not bore you with the details. I'm more interested in you, Edward, so be a good boy and entertain me. Tell me something about you. Tell me what brings you from the bright lights of the big city to a small town in the middle of nowhere?"

Topping off my tea from the pot, hovering over Esme's cup for a mere second, realizing that she hasn't even touched a drop, I lean back and proceed to tell her just enough to hopefully put an end to her curiosity. "There's nothing much to tell, I'm afraid. My parents died when I was really young." My eyes shoot up when I hear her hiss, and watch, concerned, as she places her hand softly upon her chest. "Oh! It's okay, Esme, that was long ago, and most of the painful memories have subsided. I'm good now, but it did mean that we had to go live with my father's much older sister, at least for a while, until we could get a place of our own." Bringing my cup to my mouth, needing a minute, I glance over as her lips part to question, then close, maybe rethinking her approach. Then I have to chuckle as I sense she has decided not to hold her tongue.

"We? Who we, Edward?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. We would be my brother and me. James is my older brother. After he graduated high school, he got a job, and we were able to finally be a family again, and move out on our own. That is, until...well... until he had his accident."

At first, I flinch when her cold but soft hand engulfs mine, but as I search her face, watching as she tenderly explores my own, I relax into her hold, letting the peace wash over me when her soft lullaby tone captures my ears. "Oh, you poor dear. What happened? Was he badly hurt? Please tell me he didn't di...?"

Squeezing her fingers gently, I abruptly interrupt, "Oh, lord no..no. He's still very much alive. It..it's..it's just that he's now in a hospital, unable to look after himself. He needs twenty-four hour, seven days a week care. Care I couldn't give him on my own, so my..my..bo..my friend, found him the best possible hospital money could buy, and at the moment, that is where he resides, until I can earn enough to have him come live with me again. You have to understand, he's confined to a wheelchair and unable to see, so I will need to have a nurse tending to his needs while I'm at work, and unable to take proper care of him during the day."

Leaning her elbows on the table, reaching across, she softly whispers. "Oh, dearest Edward, you have been through so much, my poor boy. It's wonderful that you had such a caring friend, willing and able to help you out. Where is this friend now? Are they no longer able to help? Are you no longer friends?" Pulling back, grabbing my cup a little too roughly, bringing it to my lips and gulping down the lukewarm liquid, I give myself a second before I answer her as honestly as I can. "No! No! Esme, they are unable to help me anymore, and truthfully, we are no longer friends. I'm really hoping I don't have to ever set eyes on him again, and seriously, if I'm being totally honest with you, I'll feel a whole lot better once I'm doing it on my own. It's how I was raised. It's the way James would want it to be; I'm sure of it."

Gracefully pushing back her chair, she rises to her feet and makes her way to the sink. I hear the now cold tea swirl its way down the drain, watching silently as she turns, leaning back against the porcelain facade before addressing me. "Well then, Edward, it looks like you came to the best place at the best possible time ever." Clasping her hands excitedly together, she proceeds. "With Carlisle being the chief of staff at the local hospital, and Rose a nurse, I'm sure we will all be able to put our heads together and come up with a quick and easy solution." Glancing down at her watch, then staring blankly in my direction, she quietly exclaims, "Oh my, look at the time. See what you did to me, Edward? You enthralled me with your tantalizing life, and enabled me to lose all sense of time. My family will be sending out a search party soon, if I don't make it home ASAP." Urgently standing and pushing my chair under the table, I begrudgingly escort this very intriguing woman to the front door.

Nervously I run my fingers through my hair, granting her a small smile as she glances back at me over her shoulder. My head's still spinning. I can't comprehend where the today went. I really can't believe how fast the time flew, and how willing I was to divulge so much in such a short period of time. But seriously, what's done is done, and there's no turning back or making excuses. It is what it is, and with that, I follow her quietly to the front door and out to her car.

Quickly cleaning the kitchen, I check the windows and doors once more, before making my way to bed. Eagerly climbing under the covers, I grab my cell phone and hit speed dial, staring into the darkness, watching through the curtains as the moon hangs low in the night sky outside my window. And as I lay patiently waiting, listening as the line rings, it dawns on me how eerily quiet the forest is tonight. I find myself straining to hear even a slight wind rustle through the trees, or a small creature scurry within its brush, but just as a strange noise captures my attention, I'm excitedly distracted when his low, husky voice sleepily greets me from the other end. "Beaner, is that you?"

I chuckle hard at his lifelong endearment before answering, "Of course, bonehead, who the fuck else would it be this time of night? You douche!" My own laugh echoes back at me, causing the joyous sound of our father's tone to play from us both down the phone. "Douche!? Oh really!? Douche!? Is that any way to greet your more handsome, even sexier, older brother, my dear Edward?"

His banter makes me laugh even harder, and the thought makes me miss him just that much more when I reply. "Sorry, bro, it'll never happen again."

Sensing melancholy in my tone, he comes back at me, "Good! Now never let it happen again… you douche!"

For the first time in what seems like forever, we are able to speak freely and, for once, happily over the phone. One thing you have to understand, when I had come to the conclusion that I was finally leaving, when I knew there was no turning back and I wouldn't be returning to the city, and he who shall remain nameless had finally left us alone, excusing himself to the restroom on my last scheduled appointed visit with James, I slid a disposable cell phone under his pillow and whispered a few frantic details into his ear.

So for once in what feels like an eternity, my older brother and I are able to be our goofy selves, and for a little while, we are, until James seriously had enough of my bullshit, and overprotectively starts to question. "So what the fuck is going on, Beaner? Where the hell you at? Please tell me you left that asshole! If so, it's about fucking time, if you ask me."

My excitement and overzealousness get the better of me, and I rush to answer in one breath all his inquiries, before being brought up short by James' attempt at an authoritative tone. "Whoa there, Trigger, take a breath, will ya? One at a time, Mister. I'm blind, not fucking deaf, little bro; no need to scream into my God damn ear, big guy."

Glancing at my alarm clock, realizing how late it had gotten, and not wanting to exhaust my brother, I give him my quick and not completely honest version. And James being James, and always being able to see right through me and call me on my bullshit, quickly put a stop to it. "Okay! I hear ya. I don't buy most of your shit, little bro, but that's all right. By the sound of things, we'll have ample enough time to catch up once you spring me from this joint, and we can finally be a family again." Then I sense his tone lightening as he continues, "So this better be a fucking hot nurse you got for me, Beaner. No rear ends of buses or farm looking animals for your amazing big bro. I know I'm blind, but I still have my senses and imagination, so don't sell a brother short and land him with no ugly chick, dude. And while we're on the subject of getting some, anyone caught your eye yet? Any hot little doctor trying to swoop my little bro off his feet?"

My breath eagerly catches in my throat as my mind quickly wanders to Jasper, catching me a little off guard, making me shift uneasily under the covers and awkwardly having to adjust myself over my sleep pants before sheepishly answering him. "No! Hell no! Of course not. I'm too busy and eager to start my new job to even be looking at other men. Plus shithead was enough for me; I think I'm done with men for a while, if you don't mind."

James laughs hard down the phone before replying, "Oh, methinks you doth protest too much, Beaner. And I call bullshit on your done with men and to hell with them all crap. But that's okay! You have plenty of time, big guy, or do you? Does something drastic happen to gay men when they don't get any, Edward? Will your dick shrivel up and fall off if you don't use it? No! I'm serious, dude! Maybe you should look into grabbing yourself one of those handsome doctors, if for nothing else, medical reasons."

It takes me a second to regain my composure before I answer him lovingly, "Fuck you, James, and fuck your reasons. No! Nothing will shrivel up and fall off. Don't you worry, I'll be just fine on my own for now, thank you very much." It was nice to laugh with him. It was even nicer just being brothers for a while. and it made me long to have him here with me now. It made me excited at the prospect of him once and for all living under the same roof. But before I could get carried away, before I depressed myself even further, I decided it was time to hang up and let my ailing brother get some well-deserved sleep. Dragging out our goodbyes, making promises to talk at the same time the following evening, I sadly hang up the phone, placing my cell on the nightstand. Slipping exhausted under the covers, I fall asleep before my weary head hits the pillow.

My sleep is restless. I'm uneasy and a little scared. Even though I know I'm sleeping, my mind tries its best to play tricks on me, and not let me fall any deeper.

My years with him flash across my thoughts. My brother's hatred of him plays havoc with my memory. The endless arguments James and I would have over him dance like an old time film reel behind my eyelids. But I had been a shithead. I had been a stubborn fool as I fought James hard, as I fought him every step of the way. But he could never give me a straight answer. In my book, back then, he was unable to come up with a good enough excuse for why I shouldn't date him, and finally for why I shouldn't even bother moving in with him. James' determination always shocked me. James' eagerness to have him gone always confused me, even when all the guy had ever done was be good to James and me. Even when all the guy had ever wanted was my happiness. And even though he knew James hated him, even after he knew James loathed the ground he walked on and cursed him from here for a month of Sundays, when James had his near-fatal accident and fell twenty-four stories from that construction site, he came to his rescue and found him the best possible care.

And suddenly shooting straight up in my bed, sweat and goosebumps dancing across my now-flushed skin, his sarcastic tone rolls effortlessly off his sharp tongue and rings deep in my ears. "Edward, you stupid fuck! Did you really think it was an accident? When, in all these years, have you known James, your walks-on-water big brother, to be so fucking clumsy and careless on the job? Are you still so fucking naive that you still think it was a stupid accident?"

Thank you guys for taking the time to read, I would really like to hear what you thought.