Title: Purest of Pain; Stand Here With Me
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: So, first things first – I'd like to apologize for the lateness (and semi-shortness) of this chapter. I won't get into details but let's just say that I've learned it's not a good idea to bottle feed a fussy two-month old and attempt to answer your cell phone with the same hand that the bottle is in while an unsaved document is pulled up. Nor is it a good idea to click incessantly on said file while the computer has frozen because you may unintentionally save something. Silver lining? I think the rewrite came out much better. My opinion, of course.

And now, on to the obligatory thank you's. My beta's vi0lentserenityand magan bagan for taking the time to proof read and correcting any mistakes made, friend and fellow author RAEcouter for taking the time to nudge me in the right direction when I was stumped and frustrated with the rewrite when she could've been working on her own story and my fiancé, Justin, for putting up with my mumbling incoherency and general foul mood after the epic fail/accidental chapter deletion.

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.

"You never know how strong you are until being strong is the only choice you have." ~ Unknown

[RPOV]

"I'm sorry." His words were merely a whisper, backed by an undeniable air of regret. "I'm home now and I promise … I'll protect you from now on."

More promises for him to break.

I choked back a growl at his ignorance to the situation and the way that he had so quickly asserted himself into my role as her protector. Don't get me wrong, I understood then – as I do now – that he had a job to do; a job that took him away from home for extended periods of time. It wasn't the lack of his presence that made me resentful; I may be a bitch at times, but I'm not completely unreasonable. However, it had been me doing everything in my power to help her for the past year. I was the one that stayed up with her all night, rocking her in my arms as she fought her way through nightmare after nightmare. I witnessed her break firsthand - and it wasn't just once or twice. Every single time that she was somehow able to make even the slightest bit of progress, there was always something waiting to knock her ten steps back and I was the one there to pick up the pieces. Not him or anyone else for that matter, but me. I had to fight for that spot and earn her trust back for something that I wasn't even responsible for before she let me in far enough to even hold her. Yet, in a matter of minutes he had what had taken me weeks to attain. That he could just come back, riding in on his great white steed playing White Knight to Bella's Damsel in Distress as if he'd never left, grated on my nerves. I could see in his eyes - behind the obvious fear and confusion - that he was operating under the misguided belief that he could just magically fix her; make everything better with a hug or a few heartfelt, reassuring words. He just didn't understand the severity of her condition, and as bitter as I was over these circumstances, I abhorred the fact that I'd have to be the one to burst his bubble with the cold, hard truth. He was my twin – bound to me by more than just blood – yet he'd always been closer to her and I'd never faulted either of them for that. Theirs was a connection that went beyond familial bonds – and one that I had tried and failed to comprehend on numerous occasions. I was not disillusioned, though; I knew that I couldn't handle this – whatever this was – on my own. Yet, from what I'd observed at the airport earlier today and again just minutes ago, he wasn't in any fit state to handle this – and all it entailed – either. His bloodshot eyes and the lingering scent of too much liquor that permeated his entire being was proof of that.

The drinking.

That was probably the most difficult thing of all about this Jasper for me to wrap my mind around. Drinking – be it socially or otherwise – had never been his thing. Even in high school, where his less than innocent ways granted him a new conquest almost daily, drinking was never a part of his repertoire. I thought back to all the conversations we'd had in the past – playful bantering that usually started with him making fun of one friend or another over their asinine, drunken, escapades – and realized that he'd always been the designated drive, at least until now. I did not entertain any unrealistic ideas of grandeur, however; I knew that he'd drank a time or two in the past, but never to the point where it affected both his mental and physical faculties. And yet, he had been drunk at the airport when we'd picked him up. His eyes and the way that he'd stumbled when I jumped into his arms were a testament to that fact. My discontent isn't even over the fact that he is drinking – that is purely his prerogative – it's a combination of the other, seemingly minor, details: how much and how often?

I was pulled from my internal musings by the sounds of The Postal Services' "Brand New Colony" punctuating the oppressive and tension filled room with its' love-filled lyrics. Sitting up, I quirked an eyebrow at my brother while sneering at the upbeat tone, as he reached into his pocket, a bashful smile on his slightly reddened face. Jasper blushing was an interesting occurrence; in our entire lives, I had never seen that happen, not even once. He just didn't get embarrassed all that easily. I was battling equal parts of intrigue and irritation, though. More secrets, apparently – and I'd thought we had gotten pass his evasiveness and proclivity to withhold life-altering information.

I watched him as he carefully lowered a now sleeping Bella back to a lying position while climbing off the bed and trudged off to the kitchen. Needless to say, I shamelessly eavesdropped in an attempt to discern exactly who he was speaking to, while making sure that Bella was comfortably resting, no hints of nightmares marring her serene, yet tear-streaked, face. Unfortunately, I was only able to catch short snippets of his phone conversation as I moved across the bed, closer to the wall separating the two rooms.

"I haven't talked to them yet … No, I'm sure that's fine … What time again? … Of course not, I do have a car here … Alright, if you're sure, baby."

Wait a minute, baby?

Rising from the bed myself, I caught the end of Jasper's phone conversation – his tone a mix of desperation, love and contentment – and made my way into the kitchen. I had every intention of finding out what was going on, but when I rounded the corner – putting me directly across the breakfast bar where he sat, head cradled in his hands and gaze locked on the counter below him – my resolve faltered. Despite the fact that it had been over a year since I'd last seen him, I could still read him fairly well. The pain he felt – physically and mentally – was obvious, as was the exhaustion and slight inebriation. Those feelings I understood; they were justifiable considering the circumstances. But the guilt both shocked and confused me immensely. Not that there wasn't anything for him to feel guilty about, but I hadn't expected it to be so clearly manifested. It was present in his countenance and it exuded from his entire being, infusing the room. I'd recognized the same emotions in his earlier apologies and I was horrified with myself for so easily writing them off.

"Jazzy?" I murmured, slowly walking forward to sit beside him. "Is – are –" I stuttered as my brain tried frantically to piece together the right words. Asking him if he was okay or if something was wrong would just be ridiculously ludicrous because I knew that he wasn't okay in the slightest. I also knew how I'd reacted to those questions – with an unbridled fury for the lack of class and prevalent ignorance that some people conveyed – and I would not be the cause of the same reactions in him.

Sighing audibly, I reluctantly allowed my gaze to meet his; a vain attempt at finding the answers I sought without voicing the questions I had. His eyes, however, held nothing but questions as well; questions I wasn't sure that I was ready for just yet, but that needed answers nonetheless.

"The drinking, Jazzy, I –" I paused momentarily, gathering my thoughts yet again. "Is it … serious?"

"It's – I'm not sure what it is, Rose." His tone betrayed a panic that wasn't physically present; a struggle – painfully apparent – that he couldn't overcome. I was surprised at how hurt I was over the fact that he was still trying to hide his feelings, regardless of how fruitless those attempts may have been.

"The first few drinks were a … coping mechanism, I guess. I needed it just to keep my own sanity intact – a dependency that I couldn't quite reconcile with the person that I know I am." I could still detect a hint of pleading behind his words – a thinly veiled cry for both help and understanding – but I could also see his decisiveness as if it were a physical presence. This was not him and he didn't want it to become him, either. I could understand using it as a coping mechanism; I'd be lying if I said I hadn't occasionally – in the past few days, especially – entertained the same ideas. I just wasn't sure if I could help him with this problem – I'd barely been able to resist myself – but I would give and try until I was physically, emotionally and mentally unable to continue doing so.

"But, I can't – I don't know how to control it right now. It's the easiest way to forget, to not continuously live in the memories, even if it's only temporary. It drowns the pain and the guilt. It makes me forget that I've been put in a situation where I have no control." The momentary pause allowed the inherent honesty of his words to linger in the air between us, palpable.

"And it helps with – I don't – the nightmares and … the memories. Irrefutable … fabricated … it doesn't matter, all of it haunts me – awake and asleep – drinking is the only thing that blocks everything else out." His eyes – slightly wild – once again found my own, an entreaty for my complete understanding; a request I had no choice but to grant because, regardless of my aversion to this choice, I did understand it. It's what I'd hoped and prayed for myself; a reprieve, temporary or otherwise. My own memories assaulted me rapidly – triggered by his confessions – and images that I'd desperately tried to block out played behind my eyes.

The doorbell rang, interrupting my concentration on the textbook I was reading. Disgruntled, I jumped out of bed and trudged down the stairs, catching up with Bella who was halfway to the door already. I knew that I wasn't expecting any visitors today and quickly stole a glance out the window to the side of the front door. A police officer stood on the front porch – solemn in his stance – patiently waiting for entrance. With a look that I'm certain displayed nothing but unhindered curiosity, I reattached the chain lock and unlocked the deadbolt – a habit instilled in me by having a Police Chief for a father – and pulled the door open far enough for me to be able to see through.

"Can I see some identification, Officer?" I asked, instinctively. Nodding, the Officer swiftly produced his wallet, flipping it open so that I could see both his badge and ID card. Satisfied with his authenticity, I closed the door, unlatched the chain lock and pulled the door open again.

"Miss Swan?" His gaze moved back and forth between Bella and I as we both gave him a perfunctory nod. I could feel my heart rate accelerating as the trepidation crept up, suffusing me in its stifling cloak.

"I'm sorry to have to tell you this but your parents, Charles and Renee Swan were involved in a car accident at approximately 5:15 this evening. They were both pronounced dead at the scene and identified by the responding officers." His tone and face was nothing but apologetic as his eyes flitted between the two of us standing there, frozen in the doorway.

"The other driver has been taken into custody, but witness accounts and a blood test has confirmed that he was at fault."

"Who?" I asked my voice terse in its delivery.

"A James Garnet. His blood alcohol level was well above the legal limit, at 0.130, for anyone, but especially a minor under the age of 21."

My nails painfully dug into the wooden framing of the door as my mind fought to process the words that he'd spoken. I could feel my lungs constricting painfully as I fought to keep my breaths steady, failing miserably. Bella's withered body crumpling to the floor with a loud thud drew me out of the frozen state that I'd been stuck in and I took a moment to reassess my surroundings. Realizing that there were tears cascading down my cheeks, I quickly turned away from the officer and blocked out anything else that he'd been saying. Bella was my first priority. I couldn't see anything beyond the tears that clouded my vision and I refused to feel anything beyond the immediate shock and grief as I dropped to the floor beside my sisters' trembling form and locked my arms around her body. I felt like screaming and pleading with the officer to stop talking and begging him to take back the words – delivered with such practiced ease – that had torn my entire world apart. We sat there for what could've been hours – time had ceased to have any meaning for us – rocking in each others' arms, sobbing uncontrollably. The Officer had long since departed once he'd realized that neither of us was paying any attention to the words that continued to spill forth. He'd left a business card of some sort on the stand inside the foyer but everything else – including the door that still stood wide open, exposing us in our rawest and most vulnerable states – ceased to exist.

Jasper's voice broke through my ruminations as he struggled to regain my attention and I snapped my head towards his voice while furiously fighting to blink away my tears. The repeated murmurings of stilted, yet heartfelt and pain filled, apologies met my ears as he did his best to comfort me; bringing me back from those horrific memories.

I could do nothing but shake my head – an answer to his unasked question – as the tears I'd thought had been fully purged continued their trek down my face; the pain insurmountable. I didn't know where this strength I'd been displaying despite the agony that managed to consume me at times had come from but I chose not to question it. "Just … remembering," I finally managed to stutter out before the sobs could break free. The warmth that radiated from Jasper as he pulled my stool closer and wrapped me in a crushing yet comforting hug – reminding me of the soothing melodies that my mom used to sing to us when we were children – helped me stop the flow of persistent tears from falling.

"The day that – when the – when we found out about dad and mom," I explained, my face still buried in his well-worn shirt. I felt his breath hitch as the slight rocking motions that he'd been trying to comfort me with faltered temporarily while his grip on me tightened, a release and reprieve for the both of us.

"It was so hard for me to watch Bella break, again. I did everything I could to be strong for her but … it was hard. I was hurting too and she wasn't in any fit state to comfort me. I understood though, maybe not completely but I knew that she was having trouble processing what had happened. I did my best, but I don't think it was enough. I did everything that I possibly could without question or pressuring her and she still reverted back to the state she'd been in before, flinching away from me every time I tried to physically comfort her. I tried, Jazzy, I just – I don't –" I pulled my head back so that I could look at him – my brother and best friend. "I don't think it'll ever be enough. I just don't know what to do." More sobs broke free as I tried to remain in the present, pulling against the thoughts that were steadily gaining dominance over me.

I could hear the broken sobs emanating from the room down the hall, only slightly muffled by the walls separating us as I tossed and turned in bed, searching fruitlessly for sleep. She was in control – for now at least, the lack of hoarse screams ringing through the house were indicative of that – and if I went to her now, she'd only refuse my help. She was bound and determined to prove that there was nothing wrong, undeterred by the fact that she couldn't hide behind her carefully constructed mask while she was asleep. It was the same thing night after night, and the physical effects it had on her were painfully obvious. Her rapid weight loss – evidenced by her sallow skin, protruding bones and the way everything she wore hung so loosely to her frame – was much too fast for my comfort. We'd reached the point where she had to be cajoled into eating even the tiniest of portions at every meal. It didn't matter how many times we questioned her, her response never changed; she was 'fine.' The lie was obvious, but we were at a loss on how to proceed without further angering her. Every time therapy was brought up, she fought it with unwavering determination – her stubbornness rearing its' ugly head. Her animation at those times far surpassed anything I'd ever seen from her, and I looked forward to it; to seeing just a tiny glimpse of who my sister had been before and solidifying my faith in the fact that my sister was still in there, somewhere, and that we would get her back.

Once again, Jasper's pleading whispers and strong, calloused hands resting on the sides of my face brought me back to the present, his eyes imploring me for answers. I feared his reactions to what I was about to tell him, but knew that it wasn't fair to keep this to myself. And, regardless of how I felt about his ability to get through to her in places that I'd previously failed, I knew that I wasn't strong enough to handle everything on my own. And if I were being completely honest with myself, I was still holding onto the tiny remnants of hope that he would be able to help, despite his questionable – at best – mental state.

"She's different Jazz – cold and detached, emotionally. It's like there's an impenetrable wall up and she exerts so much energy keeping it in place." The tears were flowing freely now, my emotions shot to hell as I mentally and verbally relived the torment that had kept us bound for so long. This person – for I refused to believe that she was my baby sister – mystified me.

"It was like watching a shadow at times. She was present, physically, but emotionally and mentally she was in her own little world; trapped in a darkness that she couldn't get out of. Even now, I catch glimpses of that same murkiness lurking just below the surface and it scares the hell out of me." I was choking on the mangled sobs that were rising from my chest, fighting to control my demeanor and determined to get through this.

"Why – what happened to her?" His words were barely above a whisper, but still clear as a bell. It was the same question that I'd asked myself a million times before but was nowhere nearer extracting an answer to. Anytime the reasons for her reclusiveness were broached, she'd lock up even further within herself.

"I don't know. I –"

Could I tell him what I suspected? Should I tell him? He'd tell me if our roles were reversed and he deserved to know, but could he handle that right now with everything else that we have to deal with?

"I've had my theories on what may have happened based on her reactions to … certain situations, but I think that – maybe you should draw your own conclusions." I knew my brother well enough to know that he'd eventually come to the same verdict as I had. He did deserve to know this but I couldn't bring myself to say the words; to destroy him – or myself – by merely bringing these things to the light.

"What … reactions?" The words, though laced with intrigue, were hesitant; fear shining through despite his attempts at remaining calm.

"Is this – are you sure – do you really want to hear this right now?" I needed to know that he was sure before I went any further. This information would only serve to break him yet again and as much as he deserved to know – I'd already come to terms with that – I needed him to voice that this wasn't just some misguided attempt at righting his wrongs. He nodded in concession, inhaling deeply before locking his steely gaze on mine.

"She's reluctant to interact with anyone outside of the family; almost fearful. She flinches even when I touch her and constantly refuses to be in the same room – alone – with any male. Sadly, that included Charlie at times. She doesn't do … anything and is refusing to even think about attending College, despite our adamant attempts at persuasion." Pausing to consider my next thoughts, I took a moment to take in Jasper's reaction to what I'd said. He couldn't rein his emotions in fast enough and everything from his tense jaw – teeth locked together with a vice-like grip – to his tightly clenched fists and rigid form told me that his thoughts aligned with my own.

"I don't thi – I can't hear anymore right now, Rosie." Pain – pure, palpable and unadulterated – suffused his tone.

I nodded in concession and lay my head on the counter top as the emotions that had been warring within me all day took over. The mantra I'd been internally chanting – stay strong, Rose – quieted as the pain dug its' talons in, wreaking havoc on both my heart and mind. The grief could – and would – bury me alive if I allowed it to do so, but for the moment, I needed this release. My body shook with the tears that tore through me – unrelenting and vengeful – and I could vaguely make out the strangled sobs coming from my right. Sitting up straight, I pulled my knees up to my chest, resting them on the edge of the stool, and wrapped my arms around them. We both sat there – lost in our own thoughts as we let the emotions that were coursing through our bodies run its' course.

All the feelings of inadequacy that I'd felt over my inability to help Bella came flooding back. Watching someone that you love more than your own life break over and over again and knowing that there's nothing you can do to help them beat back those demons causes an unbearable pain. It doesn't matter how many times you've seen it, every time cuts just as deep as the last. It tests your strength in ways that you never could've imagined being possible. It makes you re-evaluate everything about your life; everything that you thought you knew suddenly becomes a foreign concept. The sleepless night that I spent listening to the muffled screams and whimpers filtering through pillows as she curled in on herself, shutting the world out and effectively shutting me out – her sister and one of her two best friends – tore me apart. Physically, I still exuded the strength and confidence that I'd been known for – I was good at putting up my own façade as well – but mentally and emotionally, I was exhausted.

I ruminated on that thought for a moment longer before mentally shaking my head and turning to face Jasper again. The sight before me – Jasper's crumpled form hunched over the breakfast bar, face streaked with tears, hands balled up into fists at his sides, eyes clamped shut as if he were willing whatever images were floating through his mind away – caused my heart to clench painfully. Of its own accord, my hand reached over and slid into his, squeezing it tightly, a reminder that we would get through this – somehow – we just needed to stick it out together.

"It'll be okay," I murmured soothingly as I waited for a reaction from him. "I don't know how but we will get through this, together." He squeezed my hand quickly in acknowledgement before releasing it and wiping his face roughly, trying to remove any trace of the tears that he'd cried; always the quintessential male, even if it's just in his head. A few more minutes passed in silence before I felt like we could continue with our conversation.

"The funeral?" The words themselves were simple, the sentence short, but the meaning behind them stifling. My voice had been no more than a whisper, as if uttering those two words would make the situation even more real than it already was.

"I've already made some calls and they have – they made plans in case something like this happened. The technical stuff is pretty straight forward, I guess. Did you know they'd purchased burial plots for all of us?" I should have been relieved that they'd thought far enough ahead to prepare for instances such as this but I wasn't. It was so morbid to plan something like this before there was a real need for it, but I couldn't deny that their meticulous planning made this situation easier on us, even if just minutely.

"I – uh – a friend – my … girlfriend," I felt my eyes widen at his admission – reluctant as it was – while he fidgeted with the shot glass he'd used earlier. "She's – I asked her if she'd come here … to help. I wasn't sure if I could – if I'd be able to deal with all … this and I still don't think that I'll be much help." He paused for a short moment, as if considering his next words, "her brothers are coming as well. If you'd – if I'd known beforehand about Bella, I would've asked her to come alone, but … I didn't. I just – I understand why they won't let her come alone and what their fears are, so I don't blame them. I'd react the same way if you met someone online and just decided, on a whim, to go and see him." He continued mumbling incoherently, mostly to himself, as I digested what he'd just told me.

"Is that who called earlier; who you called baby?" I was genuinely curious, but the trepidation I felt couldn't be denied. Was this really the right time to be building upon romantic relationships when we had so much to work through as a family? I was happy for my brother, though; he deserved to have someone to love and who loved him just as much in return. The timing wasn't the greatest – there was absolutely no denying that – but we'd figure this out if this is what would bring him some sort of relief from the ever-present pain.

"Yea, that's who I was – her name is Alice – she was just calling to confirm her plans with me and they'll be here tomorrow afternoon. I have to email her the address again because they're renting a car, but what about Bella? Will she be okay with – I don't want her to be uncomfortable if they're – should I call and see if they'd be okay with getting a hotel room. I –" He exhaled gruffly, running his hands over his face in frustration.

"I just – I really don't know what to do, Rosie." In that moment he reminded me so much of the child he used to be that any ill feelings that still lingered towards him evaporated instantly. Over the years, I'd forgiven him for a variety of infractions and I could do it again now. He hadn't been aware of the circumstances, and for that, there was no one to blame but myself. I could've – and one could argue that I should've – told him sooner, even if it were over the phone, but I'd chosen not to. His ignorance to the situation was on me and I couldn't fault him for trying to find some way to make everything easier on him. I drew in a deep, shuddering breath and exhaled slowly before sliding off the stool and wrapping my arms around him tightly.

"I told you that we'd get through this as long as we stuck together, and we will. We'll worry about that when the time comes and make sure that Bella is never left alone with either of her brothers until then. If it gets to be too much for her, then we'll re-evaluate everything and possibly look into the hotel option. But this is not your fault, Jasper, so don't you dare blame yourself. How were you supposed to know any of this?" I could feel the tears building up and struggled to keep them from falling again.

"Besides, I can't pass up the chance to meet the girl who finally got my brother to commit, and from halfway around the world, no less." He turned to look at me then, a slight smile gracing his face as he recognized my attempt at lightening the mood for what it was.

"And she is bringing both of her brothers with her, Rose, so who knows what could happen there." I laughed lightly at his insinuation but shrugged it off mentally. I wasn't ready to go there again; friendship was all that I could offer anyone for now and it wouldn't be fair of me to pretend otherwise. After Royce had so thoroughly shattered my trust in the opposite sex, I needed the time to allow myself to heal from – and get past – that.

Realizing that hours had passed in the time that we'd spent talking, we both looked to the clock mounted on the wall; almost midnight. Feeling the exhaustion settling over me from the emotional torment I'd been put through today, I stretched my arms above my head, suppressing a yawn and gave Jasper one last hug.

"I'm going to sleep down here with Bella tonight. I can usually handle her outbursts as long as there isn't anyone else unexpected in the room, so try not to worry about it." I paused for a moment, thinking if there was anything else that I needed to tell him. "We can talk about all the arrangements that I've already made tomorrow and if you can't sleep, there's a bit of cleaning that needs to be done in the guest rooms. But, if you don't get to that tonight, I'll take care of it in the morning."

He nodded in acquiescence and headed for the stairs while I made my way back to the den – and by proxy – Bella. I didn't know what tomorrow would bring or what would happen when Alice and her brothers arrived, but I was determined to keep everything together for both my brother and my sister. For most of my life, I'd had the predilection to put myself and my needs above those of everyone else. I was – even though I'd refused to admit it at the time – incredibly self-centered now, however, I was fully aware of those tendencies and I refused to allow myself to make those same mistakes. We were in this together, but they needed me – and whatever strength that I could offer them – more now than they ever had before and I would give them what I could as often as they needed it.

A/N: Another chapter over and done with. Rose has always been a complicated character for me to write, but all things considered, I'm fairly happy with how this turned out. I'm sure that there will be questions about her reactions to Jasper in the beginning, so please feel free to ask away. I don't mind at all and I'll answer anything as long as it doesn't give too much away. Also, don't forget to check out the song for this chapter posted on my profile.

The next chapter, which will be from BPOV, may be a little later than expected. My holster, Erica/vi0lentserenity has finals next week and finals/studying definitely trumps chapter beta'ing, unfortunately. The weeks following her finals, I may not have constant internet access like I do now due to renovations that I'm having done on my house, so that'll also delay chapter posting. And, on top of all that, I've only got a few more weeks left to finish up my fic for The Twilight Gift Exchange. However, once these things are done, I'll be back to a regular posting schedule of weekly updates.

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