Title: Purest of Pain; When I'm Gone
Author: stolenxsanity
Characters/Pairings: All Characters, Canon Pairings
Rating: M/NC-17
Spoilers: None; AH/AU
Summary: Irrevocable change wrought from tragedy brings these two families together while their own personal demons threaten to tear them apart. Can they overcome the consequences of their actions or will the repercussions and guilt consume them?
Disclaimer: Much to my disappointment, I do not own Twilight or any of its characters. However, I do very much enjoy borrowing them for my own twisted story lines.
A/N: I sigh. You see, this chapter has been written for just over a month and I had no intentions of posting it so long after the prologue. Unfortunately, I'm anal retentive, and that coupled with a severe case of A.D.D. and O.C.D. does not a pretty picture make. I think this may be the 5th or 6th revision, maybe? Ah well, it's done now. After much frustration and *headdesk* moments, of course, but done nonetheless.
As usual, I have to thank my betas, vi0lentserenity – I honestly don't know how she puts up with me and my fickleness or lack of focus of sometimes, but the fact that she does makes me all warm and fuzzy inside – and magan bagan for taking the time to make sure I'm not being overzealous with my comma's or semi-colon's and well, other grammatical mishaps. Also, RAEcouter for offering up the idea of writing this chapter because this was originally not going to be a part of it, and then when I started writing it, it was going to be chapter 2. Obviously, that's changed.
I'd also like to thank everyone who reviewed the first posted chapter (prologue). If I didn't reply to your review, my apologies. I had every intention of doing so, but RL tends to distract me a lot. But, I do appreciate them all the same.
And now, I think I'll stop rambling and let you all get to the chapter. Enjoy.
WARNING: This story contains references to cutting/suicidal tendencies, slight alcoholism, adult language and rape along with a litany of psychological issues and is rated as it is for a reason. If you have an issue with any of these things, please refrain from reading.
"Change is never easy. You fight to hold on. You fight to let go." ~ The Wonder Years
[JPOV]
Senior year of high school brings with it a certain level of stress and a definite rise in blood pressure for most students. Being faced with life-altering decisions that have the power to make or break you is enough to cause anyone undue anxiety – the choices are both limited and limitless. Fortunately, that was far from the case for me; I already knew what I wanted to do with the rest of my life and I was unwavering in the choice that I'd made. My birth father had been a General in the Army and was killed in action before Rose and I had been born. Even though I'd never gotten to know him, I felt like my path in life had already been set before my birth; it was in my blood, coursing through my veins and solidifying my resolution. Unfortunately, I had yet to tell anyone in my family of the choice I'd already made. Instead – and in an effort to put off the imminent questioning – I filled out copious amounts of college applications and wasted time and efforts on taking my SAT's and ACT's. I knew that I couldn't enlist before I turned 18 without parental consent, but I could never find the best way to break the news to my parents, especially knowing that my mom was dead set against any option that included the military. I couldn't find reason to fault her for that; she'd lost her first husband to that life and had made it abundantly clear that she couldn't even think about the possibility of losing any children in the same way. I could see it in her eyes every time another news story came on about the war in Iraq; another life cut short by the unspeakable realities that made up the life of a soldier, another family forever altered by actions beyond their control, another young widow or fatherless child. She saw her – us – in the faces of all those broken families. Sure, college was an option, and one that I would do well at. But, there was nothing that I could think of – no career option that jumped out at me – that I could willingly sacrifice years to the tedium of learning for.
With acceptance letters coming in for me nearly every other day, I was running out of time to come clean about my true intentions post-graduation. It didn't help that I was being accosted by my guidance counselor to make a decision at every turn. I'd even started skulking around the campus in an effort to avoid him. It didn't always work so well and I harbored the ridiculous idea that he must've been part bloodhound with the way he always managed to track me down. I scoffed – internally, of course – at his ignorance; I'd already made a decision; he was just, decidedly, kept out of the loop. Then there was Bella – my dear, sweet sister. She was relentless in her interrogations and the pain I felt from so blatantly lying to her day after day threatened to destroy my resolve. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't scared. The last thing I wanted was to be the cause of dissention within my family, but it was inevitable. There was a small chance that Charlie would support my decision, but beyond that, I didn't have high hopes for the way my news would be received. I knew my sisters well enough to know that I'd be met with one of two reactions; they'd either be furious or they'd feel betrayed, neither of which I was in any way fond of. Rose and Bella were, without a doubt, the most important people in my life and just the thought of them being upset with me was almost enough to make me change my mind.
I squandered my time away – filling the disgustingly monotonous days with inconsequential activities – until my birthday with the thought that once I turned 18, no one else had any say in whatever path I decided to take. It was arduous, to say the least, keeping this decision to myself but my will was unfaltering; they wouldn't find out until it was an absolute and not just a possibility. I'd never had a reason to lie to either of my sisters, and even though this was a lie of omission, it still cut me just as deep as it would have if I'd outright lied to them. It was obvious in their looks and mannerisms from time to time that they knew I was holding something back from them. There were countless times that I almost succumbed to the guilt and let them in on my intentions, but every time I'd come close to telling them, the thought of their reactions would steel my resolve to wait. There was no way to know if I was making the right decision by waiting, but it's the only decision that made sense to me.
On the day that I turned 18, I skipped school and instead went down to the recruitment office to fill out the required forms. Apprehension and trepidation dominated me throughout the entire process, only overshadowed by the outright fear of what was to come. Although I left the recruitment office feeling lighter, there was also a tangible weight on my shoulders. With my plans now set into motion, I had run out of time for constant deflection and avoidance. I was out of reasons to keep it to myself any longer and I was well aware that if I didn't tell them now, they'd find out regardless. Finding out from me was the least I could do in the scheme of things; I owed them that much.
I spent the remainder of the day attempting to psych myself up for the conversation to come at dinner. Rose would resent me for ruining the night – our night – but she'd be mad at me regardless so it was best to get it all out of the way at once. I went through every possible scenario in my mind and not one of them ended amicably. Regardless of how it all came out, tonight would mark a palpable change in our family dynamic. The guilt was already there, and had been steadily building over the past months, so one more thing wouldn't make much of a difference. I'd been working for months – possibly even years – on preparing for the inevitability of this conversation. I'd be a fool to think that I'd walk away from tonight's dinner unscathed, that was a given. In less than twenty-four hours, I'd be destroying their trust in me with a possibility of never gaining it back.
Even with my nerves in overdrive, dinner was wonderful. The surreptitious glances that Rose kept shooting me, eyes masked with her signature icy glare, didn't go unnoticed by me. If I'd ever doubted our "freaky twin connection" before, I couldn't any longer. She, better than anyone else, could tell that there was something on my mind and by the look in her eyes; I knew that she wouldn't let me get away from the table without forcing it out of me. Knowing what was coming; my gaze remained transfixed on the plate in front of me like it was the most interesting thing I'd ever caught sight of. The clearing of throats, however, drew my attention away from my food and with a will all their own, my eyes met those of my all too intuitive sister. She too had made her decisions concerning this monumental moment in our lives long before it was necessary. However, she favored staying nearer to home and attending U of A and majoring in Mechanical Engineering. Of course, her decision had been met with a favorable reaction; a fact that I was growing to be quite envious of.
"Jazzy, have you decided what college you'll be going to yet?" She asked with just the slightest of smirks on her face.
I nearly choked on the food I'd been chewing when that question was asked. Logically, I knew that she wasn't aware of the exact causes for my elusiveness but the pointed glances and thinly veiled intuitive smirks made it clear that she wasn't completely ignorant to the war that had been raging within me. I'd venture to assume that she was under the impression I had no plans as I'd never expressed interest in college. The Military was probably the furthest thing from her mind right now, and though it pains me to admit, no plans definitely trumped plans that involved military service around here. I stared at her, my heart beating erratically in my chest, as I tried to formulate something mildly acceptable. All the words I'd spent hours going over in my head were lost. My mind ceased processing, along with other basic functions, as I scrambled for a response. Every possible answer that flitted through my mind was quickly dismissed; nothing sounded right and as time stretched on, my body began to react to the stress.
I inhaled deeply – a vain attempt at controlling my nerves – recognizing that the time for avoidance and deflection had run its' course, and allowed my eyes to flicker around the room. My mouth opened of its' own volition before quickly snapping close again as various scenarios played out in my head. This happened multiple times before the frustrated staccato beats of Roses' fingernails on the table top broke through my contemplative haze.
"I – uh – I enlisted in the Army," I finally managed to stutter out, my gaze transfixed on the blank dining room wall behind her head as I awaited the imminent backlash that was surely coming. The room was deathly silent for all of two seconds before Roses' high pitched shriek pierced the calm façade that had settled.
"YOU DID WHAT?"
"I enlisted in the Army today," I muttered, my gaze dropping to the plate of food in front of me that suddenly didn't seem so appetizing.
Rose continued yelling at me from across the table, her ire tangibly filling the air around me. Her lack of subtlety didn't surprise me at all, but the threats and accusations she threw in my face did. One look in her eyes told me all that I needed to know; she was furious. The words being launched at me – idiot, ridiculous, zero regard for their feelings – only confirmed these thoughts. I scoffed at her reaction, internally, and momentarily contemplated just how self-centered she could be. At the realization that no one else had uttered a single word, I chanced a look up at my mom and Bella only to quickly look away when seeing the matching looks of horror and betrayal etched on their faces. Amidst Roses' curses that were aimed at me, I excused myself from the table and made a break for my room. The sound of chairs scraping on hardwood met my ears as I reached the top of the stairs and curiosity got the best of me as I chanced one last look over my shoulder only to be met with the pain filled eyes of my mother. The set in her jaw was indicative of a verbal lashing the likes of which I'd seen play out on numerous occasions, but thankfully had never been the recipient of, until now.
As the weeks passed, the atmosphere at home was tense and everyone was on edge in anticipation of what was to come. My "blatant act of defiance," as my mother so aptly referred to it, was rarely mentioned except in passing. We all seemed to be operating under the – what I'd coined – denial clause that allowed everyone to fool themselves into thinking that as long as it wasn't mentioned, it wasn't true. After the initial blow up from Rose, she avoided me like the plague, only sparing the occasional pointed glare in my direction before continuing on with her life. Bella's reaction, however, was the most painfully heart wrenching. Even though Rose was my twin – and in many ways, one of the best friends I'd ever had – I'd always been much closer to Bella. The knowledge that her
pain stemmed from the belief that I was leaving her permanently pervaded the house constantly. She'd never been very good at hiding her emotions, least of all from me, and in the weeks leading up to graduation and my departure for basic training, her pain became my pain. I avoided home as much as was possible in an effort to retain some semblance of my sanity and to cling to what once was. There was no doubt in my mind that I too was in denial, but a denial of a different sort.
On numerous occasions, I tried to be the proverbial "bigger man," but my pleas for understanding repeatedly fell on deaf ears. More often than not, I was ignored completely and when I wasn't being ignored, I was being chastised and lectured about the numerous opportunities I was throwing away to "chase a ghost." I knew that my fathers' service in the military had played a part in my decision, but to have it so blatantly thrown in my face like it was something that I should be ashamed of was the equivalent of Chinese water torture; a slow, albeit metaphorical, death. Why they couldn't understand that this wasn't just some half-cocked idea to connect with my father but something that I also wanted for myself eluded me. I'd never asked for much – never really needed something enough that would require asking – until now when all I desired was their understanding.
Graduation was upon me much quicker than I'd anticipated and with it came an onslaught of nerves the likes of which were incomparable. The official end of my high school career meant the commencement of my military life and further strains on my relationship with my family. Even if I'd wanted to change my mind at this point, it was impossible; I was bound by contractual agreement for a term no shorter than four years. The ceremony itself went well and was followed by another family dinner in celebration of mine and Roses' accomplishments, but what should have been a celebratory event was filled with an air of mourning laced with guilt. The realizations that in less than twenty-four hours, I'd be on a plane to Ft. Jackson, SC seemed to hit everyone at once as the obligatory congratulatory sentiments were shared.
I finished packing that night, when we got home, exuding an air of confidence that I didn't feel but filled with an unbridled determination to follow through and prove their preconceived notions wrong. I denied many things as I flitted about my room making sure that I had everything I needed, but the one thing I didn't deny was my overwhelming and all consuming pride. I was far too proud – and stubborn – to even begin to entertain the idea that I'd gone about this the wrong way. It may have been foolish of me, but I believed that by morning everything would be relatively okay. We'd part ways, temporarily, on good terms and I'd come home in a few short months and do my best to fix the relationships I'd so thoroughly destroyed.
I fell into bed hours later, exhausted beyond words but filled with equal parts excitement and apprehension. This was what I wanted, but I'd never taken well to change and the changes that I was walking headlong into were unequivocally life altering, not for the faint of heart or the weak-willed. For the next four years, I'd be nothing more than a small part of a well-oiled machine, no longer in control of my own life. In all the time that I'd had to think over the choice that I'd made, I never once felt fear to this degree. The impact of the coming changes hit me full force as I fell into a restless sleep. Dreams of a lonely life flooded my over exerted mind as I tossed and turned in bed, dreading the rise of the sun. I'd all but shunned the only people I could depend on and just the simple thought that I'd be standing up for what I truly believed in without their support was enough to bring the doubts that had lingered on the peripheries of my thoughts to the forefront of my mind.
The sounds of my alarm invaded my addled sleep-deprived mind as I lay in bed contemplating every decision I'd made that had led up to this moment. The contracts had been signed – every "I" dotted and every "T" crossed – my bags were packed and waiting by the front door and my flight booked, yet every cell in my body screamed for me to stay and seek reconciliation in whatever way possible. It came of no surprise to me that no one but Charlie was around to see me off. It was a true testament to my resilient nature that I didn't throw in the towel then and there and beg for their forgiveness. My family, especially my sisters, was the most important people in my life and they're support and acceptance meant more to me than all the riches of the world combined. The lack of their presence solidified what I already knew: once I walked out the front door, I was walking away from a life that I'd long since grown accustomed to – a life of comfort and dependability. Still, I walked away, closing that door snugly behind me and traipsed into a future that held a multitude of unknowns. The anger was there, laying in wait just below the surface, but it was overshadowed by the hurt. I'm not ashamed to admit that I fought back tears for most of the silent drive. My body was wracked with guilt, pain and anger, each emotion fighting for dominance and successfully wearing me out to the point of complete emotional debilitation. I was relieved that Charlie didn't choose this day to be uncharacteristically talkative during the drive; I needed the unimpeded silence that being in his company offered.
Basic training was grueling in more ways than one. I wrote home every chance I got even though every letter went unanswered. In the back of my mind, I was well aware of the fact that I was being ostracized not for my decision itself, but for the way I went about making it. I'd shut everyone out well before they were made aware of what I had planned on doing and in a family where secrets weren't generally kept, this was practically an unpardonable sin. With every day that passed, I grew more accustomed to the loneliness that was prevalent, even surrounded by hundreds of people. The mental solitude was my safe harbor and what kept me from falling off the brink of insanity that I'd so often found myself teetering on. Every day, I reminded myself that once I was done with this, I could go home and make amends for the way I'd left things. It was that singular shred of hope that kept me going whenever I felt like giving up. I wouldn't let myself fail at something that I'd put above everything else in my life. I refused to go home a failure and I refused to let their reactions to the life I chose affect me so strongly. The belief that they still loved me and would forgive me was one of the few consistencies in my thoughts and I clung to that belief with a strength I didn't know I'd even possessed. I acclimated well to the military lifestyle and with a finesse and strength that I'd previously been unaware of. It was as if I'd been born for this and this alone with the way that I worked through the rigorous training. This revelation only served to solidify the belief that I'd made the right choice; a fact that I was determined to highlight in my defense when the time came.
I returned home a changed man. No longer was I the same boy – yes, boy – that had left home only a day after graduating high school thinking he was invincible and believing that he knew it all. I had been broken down and built back up to the Army's specifications and tested – physically and mentally – in ways I'd never even known existed. The training stripped away everything that you'd grown accustomed to and replaced it with meticulous order. Every last detail of your everyday life was appropriately accounted for and more than sufficiently ordered. It pushed you to your limits and failed to stop there; everything from the physical aspect of working out to the psychological and physiological aspect. As I stood at the end of the driveway, rucksack at my feet, I couldn't help feeling like the prodigal son returning home to beg for acceptance, support and understanding. However, as I was no longer the same boy that I'd been when I left, I also didn't harbor the same feelings as I'd had then. Being back home wasn't out of obligation to anyone but me; a choice that I'd made after much deliberation. I wanted to clear the air and atone for the mistakes that I made. The fault didn't rest solely on my shoulders, nor were they to blame. There were no innocent parties and whatever transpired when I walked through those front doors again would set the course for the relationship between my family and I for years to come. The stubbornness that every member of my family possessed could, at times, be stifling, but with this knowledge I knew that I'd have to make the first move.
No one was home yet – school and work would keep them occupied for a few more hours – so I let myself in, placed my things in my room and decided to cook dinner while I waited. The irony of the situation wasn't lost on me as thoughts of how this estrangement all began flitted through my mind while I perused the kitchen trying to piece together a suitable meal for five with the ability to double as a peace offering. The smells of Frittata – the only meal I'd ever learned how to cook impeccably – engulfed me as I inhaled deeply. Mixed with the scent that was so uniquely home, the nervous energy that I'd been emitting since I'd arrived dissipated and contentment pervaded. I could feel the stirrings of a smile – genuine, no less – playing on my face while I leaned against the counter taking in my surroundings. The relaxing nature of my task brought forth memories of my all too disastrous first attempt at cooking. It was a much simpler and happy time, even with every surface of the kitchen coated in a fine layer of flour and the air thick with smoke, filled with the slowly fading scent of the roast I'd managed to burn. With her face filled with utter amusement, Bella patiently helped me clean the mess I'd made before starting over with my cooking lesson.
A sharp gasp followed by a loud thud interrupted my musings and I was soon inundated by the scent of strawberries and freesia as Bella launched herself into my arms. For a moment, I was afraid that she'd start crying but as I attempted to disentangle her arms from my neck, her grip only tightened. Reassured with the fact that I couldn't hear her sniffling or feel wetness from her tears, I hugged her back, elated with her unexpected reaction to me being back. Moments later, her hold on my neck loosened and she dropped back to the floor. As always, her face betrayed her emotions and though I could see the happiness there, with an undercurrent of pain.
"I missed you, Bells."
"I missed you too, Jazz," she murmured, hugging me again.
Another presence in the kitchen claimed my attention as I caught the movement from the corner of my eye. Looking towards the entryway, I was met with a glare that would've brought Satan himself to his knees.
"Hey Rosie," I greeted her, a slight tremor of unease in my voice.
"So the prodigal son has returned," she scoffed as she sauntered into the kitchen, her distrust stifling as it rolled off of her in waves. "Come on Bells, I'll help you with that assignment you asked me about yesterday."
I met Bella's apologetic stare as she and Rose retreated from the room, leaving me trapped in an air of discomfort. I watched their departure until I could no longer see them before dropping my head to my hands, mentally chastising myself for hanging on to the hope that everything would be, at the very least, okay. Rhythmic footsteps advancing towards me caught my attention and I raised my head to see my mother standing just feet away, one hand resting over her heart and the other over her mouth as emotion after emotion flickered across her face; hurt, anger, confusion, distress and … love?
"Mom, I'm – "
"Not now," she cut me off with an unsteady voice. "We'll talk later; during dinner."
I nodded in acquiescence and turned my attention back to the food that I'd been neglecting. The sound of her advancing footsteps surprised me and within seconds, I found myself in my mothers' embrace. It took me a moment to react but once the shock wore off, I wrapped my arms around her, murmuring my apologies in her ear. We embraced each other for a minute or two before she gently pulled away and left the room without a word. I quickly shook off my shock and focused on the task at hand reminding myself that I'd have my say in regards to this entire situation soon enough.
Dinner was, for lack of a better term, interesting. Tense would probably be a more suitable word to use, or even downright insanely uncomfortable. Here I was, tail tucked and head bowed – metaphorically, of course – to apologize and make amends and everyone was just … I don't even fucking know. Polite would be one way to describe it, which hardly sounds like a bad day in the Hale-Swan home, but I felt as if I were trapped in some awful re-run of Pleasantville and it was all just too damn much. I actually missed the less than innocent banter that my sisters and I used to engage in when life was normal. Yet here I was, trying to be optimistic about my return home – half glass full and all that shit – and aside from all the "please pass this," and "please hand me that," I was being studiously ignored. The tension in the air was so thick you could cut it with a knife and I could almost literally see the damn elephant in the room, sitting comfortably on the table staring me down with a glare colder than one Rose could ever hope to give anyone – a feat I would've thought to be impossible only a few hours ago.
Finally at my wits end with all the avoidance and ignoring going on, I cleared my throat – quietly, of course – and prepared myself for the groveling that was about to ensue. At the sound of my throat clearing, all the other noises in the room ceased to the point that you could've heard a pin drop on a stack of hay – whether you were waiting for it or not – and all heads turned in my direction. I mentally coached myself through the apologies streaming through my mind on fast forward and made the snap decision that although it'd probably be more proper to apologize to my mom before anyone else, my sisters deserved it more.
I could only hope that the look on my face was one filled with apologies and agonizing guilt as my eyes flickered back and forth between Rose and Bella. The look on their faces was one I recognized well – hurt and betrayal with guilt lingering around the edges; just enough guilt to crack my calm and collected façade.
"I'm sorry," I breathed out, my voice nothing more than a whisper.
"I'm sorry for … everything. For keeping what I had planned on doing a secret for so long, for finally admitting to it the way that I did. For not being man enough to apologize before I left. For just leaving. I'm just … sorry."
I could feel their eyes burning holes in the top of my head as I stared down at the table just waiting for them to say something – anything – to alleviate the guilt I felt. It was a tough position for me to be in. I was apologizing for things that, though I knew I needed to apologize for, wasn't entirely my fault. I no longer cared though. I missed them, all of them. All I wanted was my family back – my sisters back – and my life to resemble something a little closer to what it once was. I wasn't naïve enough to believe that everything would be all sunshine's and rainbows after this, but at this point, I'd take anything and do anything to regain my spot in their lives.
It was Bella that spoke next, and I could hear the tears in her voice as she stuttered out her own apology while attempting to keep her sobs at bay. "I'm – we're – sorry too," she managed to get out before the tears got the best of her. Rose took over where Bella had left off, her impenetrable walls and ice cold demeanor slowly giving way.
"We should've been more understanding, Jazzy, but that just … it caught us off-guard," Rose murmured as she fidgeted with her napkin, clearly uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation. "It came clear out of left field when we weren't even playing baseball."
I couldn't help but chuckle at her skewed analogy and just like that, the tension that had filled the room to the point of overflowing dissipated. I turned my eyes towards her again in an effort to analyze the look on her face and was more thrilled than any normal person would've been to see the corners of her mouth turned up in a half grin. Just as had always been the case, her eyes told me everything that I needed to know; Even though I was forgiven, I still had a lot to make up for. With the conversation getting off to the right start, I turned my attention to my mom and reiterated my apologies to her, silently pleading with her for understanding and acceptance. The mood at the dining room table had shifted dramatically in the short amount of time that I'd been allowed the chance to get off my chest all that had built up over the past months. Apologies were accepted, and in turn given – along with explanations. Though we may not have realized it before, the separation while I was away at BCT was much more helpful in rebuilding our relationships. It gave all of us a chance to take a step back and re-evaluate all our past decisions and discrepancies and consider other viewpoints. As dinner faded into dessert, Charlie was uncharacteristically giddy and managed to draw my attention to him before he cleared his throat and took my mothers' hand in his.
"I think I speak for everyone here when I say that it's great to have you home kid." He paused for a moment, looking to my mom for permission to proceed with his speech.
"We," his inflection and the way his eyes lingered on my mother and Rose didn't escape me, but I pretended not to notice for proprieties sake. "May have been too proud to admit to our mistakes before, but over the time that you've been away we've realized that you needed to do this for you."
"I really appreciate you saying that," I replied, slightly choked up from the overwhelming emotions that surrounded me. "And it's really great to be home again."
The remainder of the evening was much better than the start had been. Our witty banter returned as if nothing had happened as our somewhat philosophical discussions became interspersed with playful teasing that I was so accustomed to. Even my mother was much more lighthearted and playful than she was before I left, often joining in on the teasing taking place. Her smile, though not reaching her eyes, lifted a weight off my shoulders. I won't say that all just and right in my world, but it was a step forward, away from the guilt and pain that had been such a dominant factor for the past months. There was still a lot that needed to be worked through that wouldn't be fixed overnight, but it was more than I'd expected and for that I was happy. I had something to work with now and I made a vow to myself that I'd do whatever it took to fully repair the fractured relationships with everyone sitting around the table. I knew that it would be difficult when I left again but I reveled in the feelings of being home and having the opportunity to get back on the right foot. Even the inevitability of what was to come couldn't intrude upon the happiness that we all felt at that moment. I would be leaving again; we were all well aware of that truth - time was nothing more than an inconsequential and vaguely addressed reality. But, the simplicity and familiarity of it all was comforting. When the time came, the good-byes were exponentially easier. I wasn't walking out the door without their support like I had the first time around. Most importantly, I wasn't walking out alone; everyone was there when I left. The nagging doubts still lingered but it was easily pushed aside to be replaced by the understanding they'd given and the love they continued to show.
In the months that followed, my life became that of the soldier I'd trained so hard to be. Work was tough and more often than not, the end of my days brought on an exhaustion that simply couldn't be denied. Sometimes weeks passed before I was even able to catch a spare moment and call home to check in. Although my return home had ended on a positive note, my own insecurities and guilt were paramount. The longer we went without contact, the guiltier I became and in allowing that guilt to consume me, the longer we went without contact. It really was a horribly vicious cycle. It wasn't necessarily a conscious choice on my part, real life was just much more imminent and had a way of interfering when was least expected. The constant delivery of packages from home and the random emails I received kept me grounded. Even though there were times where I couldn't be what I wanted – and the brother and son they needed – the understanding that they demonstrated filled my heart. The guilt was still there though; I missed more birthdays and holidays and broke more promises than I cared to admit to, but it wasn't for lack of trying.
My deployment orders were met with an unexplainable feeling of excitement. This was the reason I'd made the decision to enlist in the Army; to do something and be someone apart from my family. Yet, the inability to reconcile those two lives had worn me out. I'd already spent exuberant amounts of time and energy evading the consistent invitations and requests to come home. Rose asked – more often than not, demanded would've been the more suitable term – Bella and my mother pleaded, almost managing to get through to my more sensible, family-oriented side and even Charlie brought these same requests up from time to time. I just couldn't, and I felt like shit for denying them the only thing that they'd asked of me. It all came back to the fear and apprehension that I felt – illogical as it might've been – of them being able to move on without me. This deployment was the most valid and justifiable excuse I could've given, offering me an escape from the monotony that I'd begun to grow stagnant in and a chance to learn the art of appreciation.
A/N: Still with me? My poor Jasper is all conflicted and mildly contradictory. It's okay, though, it'll all get sorted out … eventually. The next chapter will be in his POV again, and will be a bit of a jump in time. Hopefully it'll be ready for posting by next week and I'll be able to keep up a weekly update schedule. I shall keep my fingers crossed for that.
Lastly, the chapters are song names as well. The songs do give some insight into the psyche of whatever character's POV the chapter may be in. I have links to the video/lyrics posted on my profile so please check them out.