Charlotte chose that moment to return. "Are we having a picnic?" She asked lightly as she handed me my jacket. I gave her back hers and pulled mine back on mechanically, my eyes still on Peter.

He rolled his eyes, and started moving again. "There was none of that. Don't be ridiculous. Jasper was a gentleman. Lover isn't even really an accurate description. But they were together." More gently he added, "He didn't feel the same way about her as he does about you."

"How did he feel about her?" I choked out. I was still having trouble processing this.

Peter frowned. "He hated her." I blinked. "He feared her. He admired her. He resented and respected and loathed her. He was with her because she wasn't a newborn, and because she wanted him.

"Mostly though, he needed her. Her emotions weren't just hate and anger, not with him, and he drew those more pleasant emotions from her. That was what kept him sane, kept him alive. Our life was a hard life for anyone, let alone an empath. It was killing him anyway, slowly, surely. Even if she didn't see it."

We continued on in silence, as I tried to digest this information. Had Jasper never told me this for a reason? Or had that been one of those things that he had mentioned, briefly, in passing, and I had missed the significance of it? I tried to remember if he had ever said anything about them being together.

Suddenly, I remembered. It had been the night after Maria had shown up and Jasper had told the rest of our family about his past.

"I owe you an explanation, too." He had said sadly, as we had retreated to my room for the night.

"No you don't." I had said. "I already knew about Maria."

"Did you know why she was so angry?"

"You stole her sunglasses when you left so no one would see your red eyes." I joked. "It doesn't matter. She's gone, and obviously you've chosen me over her."

"But-"

"But nothing." I had said. "You've been through enough stress for one day. How's your face? Does it hurt?" I had waited, straight-faced for him to shrug before adding, "Because, you know, it's killing me."

He had frowned ever so slightly before he got it, but his smile and chuckle was precious. "Should I start walking around with a paper bag over my head so you don't have to suffer?" He had asked lightly, blocking my view of his face with his hands.

I had laughed, and moved his hands out of the way so I could kiss him on the cheek.

And the next day he had come down the stairs with a paper bag over his head. It was one of those rare, strange moments that were never fully explained to the rest of the family, but that showed that he did indeed have a sense of humor. It was another thing I loved about him.

I started as reality caught back up with me.

"Do you really think she will help?" I asked about an hour later.

"Either that, or she'll try to kill you." Charlotte replied honestly. "But don't worry. We won't let that happen."

I wasn't so certain she was right. I was having a surprising lack of visions. Normally they came and went on their own, but usually I could look ahead at least into my own future and the futures of those I cared about.

But I was blind, as blind as if the werewolves were involved, as blind as if I'd never had the gift at all. I could see absolutely nothing.

Disclaimer: Twilight does not belong to me, in case you had forgotten, or thought I had forgotten.