Disclaimer: S. Myer owns all, but what I wouldn't give for a Jasper of my very own-sigh.
A/N-This chapter is angsty, even by my standards, so I'm issuing a box of tissues warning. Oh, and we can add taxi cab to the list of places where people have cried while reading Winter's Night. This chapter is a bit long, especially given the angst level, but it all really needed to be together in one chapter.
Thank you, thank you for all the reviews and favorites and alerts. The support I've received for this story has warmed my heart! Kisses in a pool to all of you!
Thanks to OfTheTurningAway for her beta on this chapter.
Hugs to Dannie, who read this chapter far more times than she wanted to.
Now Jasper pov
"**~~**"
If on a winter's night if hadn't blamed me…
"**~~**"
He had asked me to stay away and I had…while he was awake.
But the nights were mine.
It had become routine to crawl under my blankets completely dressed and lay there waiting until my clock read two am. Then I would get up and quietly sneak out of the house, shuffling sleepily through the snow to the car. The drive to the hospital was always silent, my iPhone sitting on the seat next to me as I habitually traveled the route I knew all too well.
Mrs. Fuller didn't even blink anymore when I numbly walked down the hall toward Edward's room. She had covered up my nightly visits, somehow understanding my deep seated need to be there with him. Maybe she knew there was something more than friendship, I didn't know and I didn't care, as long as she let me see him without telling anyone.
His room was always dark, shadows cast from the buildings and trees outside danced along the stark white walls in the dim light of the monitors that still watched over his progress. Hesitantly, I would make my way to his side, never daring to sit because I was too afraid I wouldn't be able to move quickly enough if he woke up. Instead, I would stand next to him, my hand usually hovering over his, feeling the heat radiating from him, spanning the mere centimeters that separated us. Even though it killed me to be there, to be so close and yet so far away, I felt a calmness when I was with him, watching his deep even breaths, that I didn't feel anywhere else. I knew there was anger and resentment for me building inside him but they were absent in his slumber, and I felt nothing but his soothing presence. I would watch him sleep, sometimes peacefully, but usually his body would quiver and tremble with the dreams behind his closed eyelids.
My boy was still beautiful. I could still see his handsome face underneath the pale, gaunt skin, his thick lashes over the dark circles under his eyes, the unique shades of bronze and copper in his hair even though it lay flatted and greasy against his scalp. None of those mattered, he was still Edward, he was still my…everything.
He had lost his faith in me. He undoubtedly blamed me for his accident and deep down, drunk driver or not, he was right.
And I think that was what hurt the most. I couldn't argue with his logic, I couldn't deny that I wanted him at my house, that I wanted him there for midnight. The road he had been on was one that led to my house, not his. It had been me that had put him in the path of a drunk driver.
My voice always caught in my throat, indecisive on whether or not I should talk to him when I wasn't supposed to be there. The urge to tell him how much I missed him, loved him and ached for him was strong, but in the end, the only words that ever squeaked out were a whispered "I'm sorry."
Night after night, it was the same. I would stay for the ten minutes Mrs. Fuller allowed before leaving with damp streaks marring my cheeks. My tears froze in the cold air as I walked to the car, always falling much faster once I was safely inside.
While the ride there was done in silence, the road home was done to the sound of my sobbing.
The visits had been going on for almost a week before my father came to me one morning as I was walking out the door for school. Stopping me with a hand on my shoulder, he motioned for me to pull my earbuds out.
"I'm taking the afternoon off to go to the Cullen's. Do you want to go with me?" he asked as he put on his heavy jacket.
"What for?"
"I talked to Carlisle yesterday and he doesn't have a ramp for Edward yet. He was looking at those aluminum ones, but they're not nearly as nice as wood, so I'm going to build him one. I could use your help."
"Yeah, okay, sure," I agreed with a shrug, trying to act more casual than I felt. Inside my chest, my heart raced at the thought of being at Edward's house. If he was going to discard me from his life, at least I was going to do something useful with my time. "I'll meet you there after school."
He nodded and opened the door, going to his truck as I headed for the sidewalk and to school.
Once I arrived on the small campus, my body automatically moved me through the day, my feet taking me to my classes, my mind only picking up pieces of the lectures and reading and labs before I would stumble my way to lunch. Sitting alone at the table in the corner every day, I ignored the curious looks and put up an invisible shield that no one dared penetrate.
Except for one.
She would walk in, get her lunch and then appear before me, never asking to sit, but just doing it, pushing my books out of her way to set her tray down. Her chatter was incessant and meaningless, but it was something. Even if I never looked up at her once, Bella continued to talk, asking questions that she never expected me to answer, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she gossiped about nothing and everything. It was the only sense of normal I had in my life.
She acted as though nothing had changed, as if Edward were sitting next to me like he usually did, rolling his eyes at her pathetic jokes or tossing out his opinion on the latest gossip about the junior prom.
But he wasn't there.
Sometimes it was hard to ignore her; sometimes I would find my eyes drifting from the pages of my lit book to her delicate face and sympathetic dark brown eyes. They would light up when I gave her the attention she craved, and when I smiled once, I thought she was going to throw a party.
"Well, it's about fucking time," she whispered, her foot tapping mine under the table. "Wasn't so hard, was it?"
Shrugging, I sighed and looked back at my book, grateful for her presence.
The rumor mill had been working overtime around us since Edward's accident. I heard everything from Edward had been decapitated and they reattached his head to he and the other driver had been playing chicken on the snowy road.
As if Edward would ever do anything so irresponsible.
They had no idea who Edward really was. They saw someone handsome, intelligent, and well-behaved. Little did they all know he was even more perfect than they suspected.
They had no idea what a wonderful, incredible person he was. How he would help the person in front of him in line at the store if they were short on cash, or hold doors for mothers and their children, or the way he hugged my mother whenever he left our house.
They had no idea that he planned out his future carefully, choosing a college where he could play basketball and I could study history. How he always made sure his car was tuned up and the oil was changed right on schedule. How he worked all those hours, putting the money into a savings account for college.
I had avoided most of the questions that bombarded me every day about his condition. The other students finally got the hint when I would ignore their taps on my shoulders in class or shrug when they asked about him in the hallway.
Finally the day ended and with one last weak smile to Bella, I burst through the doors and into a jog, setting a quick pace all the way to the Cullen's. When I arrived, my father was already there, the back of his truck open as he unloaded plywood and two by fours. My dad had worked construction for as long as I could remember, but it wasn't until we had moved to Forks that he had taken the chance and started his own small carpentry business. At first, things had been slow but he gradually built a clientele and word of his quality craftsmanship spread and pretty soon he had more work than he could handle alone and began to hire a few assistants.
He waved me over and began to instruct me on the placement and layout of the ramp. I worked diligently, following my dad's instructions I removed part of the railing around the porch and began to place planks down. I had helped him out sometimes during vacations and the summer; I knew my way around the basic tools and was comfortable handling them.
When I buckled the tool belt around my hips, I remembered the first time Edward had seen me wear it. I had been working for my father the summer before and Edward had dropped by the worksite for lunch, and I'd pulled him around the side of the building out of view. Shirtless and tanned, I stood before him, the leather tool belt slung low on my hips as the sweat ran down my chest. I reached up and wiped the drool off his chin.
"Baby, stop," I blushed, shifting from foot to foot under his hungry stare. "Why are you here?"
"I brought you lunch," he said, holding up a bag with a sub and soda in it."And I wanted to see my stud work with studs."
"And you call me a dork? That was pitiful," I laughed. His eyes roamed my bare torso, settling on the belt over my jeans.
"I think this is the hottest thing I've ever seen," he said quietly, a husky tone to his voice that went straight to my dick. Suddenly, I was thankful for the loose carpenter-style jeans. "So tell me, Mr. Carpenter Man, do you know how to use your tool? Can you hammer…me with it?"
"Shut the fuck up," I mumbled shyly. In bed, I could talk dirty to Edward and think nothing of it, but when he spoke like that in public, my cheeks flushed and my cock hardened. I pushed my hair back off my face and he groaned loudly.
"Do that again," he requested, licking his lips. Chuckling, I shook my hair back into my face and then brought my hand back up, grazing it over my abdomen and chest before running it through my sweaty hair and pushing it off my face.
"Oh God," he whispered. "I gotta go…um take care of something. You coming over tonight?"
After a long glance at his cock, I looked at him. "Yeah, definitely."
"Good. Might I suggest wearing nothing but that tool belt?" he half joked.
"I promise I'll bring it with me. Be safe, baby," I whispered, brushing my fingers along the back of his hand before he turned to leave.
"See ya, love."
"Edward?"
"Yeah?"
"Thanks for lunch," I grinned, dimples and all, holding up the food.
"Oh, trust me, it was my pleasure. I might have to make arrangements to bring you lunch every day," he winked.
Things had been so easy for us then. Our biggest problem had been what new position to try or who got head first. Though that wasn't entirely true.
We were still in the closet with no plans of coming out any time soon.
It had been something we discussed a few times, but neither of us was ready to face the disappointment we knew was coming. We were pretty sure both families would accept us being gay but we knew they would be disappointed regardless. There would be no Whitlock grandchildren for my parents, and the Cullen name would end with Edward. We also knew the extra fear we were going to put into their hearts, fear for our health, safety and worry over the discrimination we might face on a daily basis.
It was more than either of us were willing to put on them then. We had decided that after we graduated, we would sit them down and tell them. Tell them that we were in love, that this was forever, that we would face any problems head on and together.
Little did we know then that the biggest obstacle we would face would have nothing to do with being gay.
By the time Mrs. Cullen pulled into the driveway from her daily visit with Edward, we were about halfway done with the ramp. Kneeling on the ground measuring the angle of a piece of wood, I watched through my hair as Mrs. Cullen got out of her car and walked over to my father, smiling and shaking his hand. I couldn't hear them, but I knew she was updating my dad on Edward's condition. After she went inside, we continued to work. When the sun had set, my father pulled out two large portable lights and lit up the yard so we could work in the dark.
Occasionally we spoke, exchanging questions about school or what to do next, but mostly we worked in silence, leaving me to my thoughts. The air was brisk and I pulled the hood of my sweatshirt up before cupping my hands and breathing into them. For hours, we worked until our hands were so numb we were both becoming clumsy.
"Let's call it a night, Jasper. We can finish tomorrow," he said as he flicked the lights off. We cleaned up the supplies and were just about to get into the truck when Edward's father pulled in. Standing on the passenger side of the truck, I saw him get out with a look of utter shock on his face as he walked up to my father.
"Jason, I don't…" he stuttered and my dad shook his head, stopping him.
"It's the least I can do, Carlisle. I know you'd do the same for me," my father said. As Mr. Cullen looked over the partially built ramp, I saw him wipe a tear from his cheek.
"Thank you, Jason, Jasper. This is…well, it's pretty incredible. I don't suppose…" he trailed off, unsure how to continue.
"What?" my father prompted.
"Well, we need some work done inside too. We are going to turn my office into Edward's bedroom but we need to have the downstairs bathroom remodeled for him. It's not nearly big enough for him and his wheelchair."
My father put a hand on Mr. Cullen's shoulder. "Don't worry about it, Carlisle. I can do it. In fact, how about tomorrow you show me what you need and then I will talk to my guys about it? I know they will donate their time and I will donate the supplies I have if you can get the rest."
"Absolutely, thank you, Jason." Mr. Cullen looked over the truck at me standing there bouncing up and down with my arms wrapped around my chest trying to warm up. "How are you, Jasper, everything alright?"
Fuck no.
It wouldn't be alright until Edward was back in my life. Until he had forgiven me.
"Yeah, I guess," I replied quietly.
"Hang in there, son. It'll be okay," he said with a half smile. "Thanks again, Jason. You will have to let me pay you for the work."
"Absolutely not. This is done on my time, not the business's," my father replied. They said goodbye and Mr. Cullen made his way into the house as my dad and I got into his truck. We rode home in silence as I stared out the window of the cab, watching the houses and mailboxes go by while my mind rested on a boy in a room who I couldn't wait to see again.
At home, I ate dinner and then went up to my room, tossing my bag onto the floor before sitting at my desk and booting up my computer. While waiting, I shuffled through the masses of printed papers from various websites on paraplegics ranging in everything from basic care to sexual relations. I had printed out every article I thought would help, reading them instead of homework.
Diligently, I had studied Edward's condition. I learned everything about the spinal cord and injuries to it; statistics, causes, costs, drugs, surgeries, self care, possible ongoing problems…everything. In his absence, it made me feel closer to him to know more about what we was facing, about what had happened to his body.
I opened the browser and went to the bookmarks, clicking on the forums I had been visiting recently to see if anyone had replied to the post I had made in the teen thread.
When I saw a reply to my post, I clicked on it.
Hey Hopeless Dusk, welcome the forums. Like you, I'm gay and my boyfriend is paralyzed. He dove headfirst into a river and severed his cord at his T7 so I know what you are going through. You've probably heard it before but all you can do is be there for him. No matter what he does or says, remember it's not you he is angry at. There will be really bad days and really good days. Just let him know that you aren't going anywhere no matter what.
If you ever want to talk about the more personal stuff, you can email me at
I opened my email and sent him note of thanks and said that I was sure I would have questions for him in the future. Moving to my bed with the papers I had printed out the night before, my homework sat unopened next to me as I began to read more on flaccid bowels and urinary tract infections.
At some point between the differences of intermittent catheters and suppositories, I had fallen asleep, not waking up until almost five in the morning, too late to visit Edward. Pissed at myself for oversleeping, I rolled over and stared at the ceiling. My thoughts were overwhelmed with images of him, ones of him in the hospital room, frightened and alone. If only he knew I felt the exact same way.
At school, Bella sat with me at lunch again, tossing her bag on the table and dropping her tray.
"Jesus," I mumbled at the loud sound. My nose had been buried in my physics book, reading the homework I had neglected to do the night before.
"Oh, he does speak," she said sarcastically. "I was beginning to wonder if you were even alive."
"Whatever. I don't ask you to sit here," I reminded her in a gruff voice, not even looking up.
"No, you don't but I thought maybe you'd like the company considering your best friend is going to be gone for awhile. I also thought that, oh I don't know, maybe we could talk and share our grief."
"Why would I want to share it? Why would you want me to?" I said, exasperated at her persistence. Why couldn't she just leave me the fuck alone?
"Because we're friends, Jasper. Edward is important to both of us. I'm just as sad over what happened to him as you. I heard he is going home soon, is that true?"
"I don't know."
"You haven't talked to him?"
I shook my head and closed my book. Physics was useless shit anyway.
"He hasn't been up for visitors," I sighed.
"Oh. I was going to go over this weekend but maybe I should wait."
"Yeah," was all I said before gathering up my books. "I gotta get to class. See ya."
Before she could even say goodbye, I was walking away.
After school, I met my father at the Cullen's again, remembering to wear my heavy track team sweatshirt to stay warm. He greeted me with a 'how was school' and then tossed me the nail gun. Apparently he had arrived a few hours before because the ramp was almost completed, with only a few more pieces to add before we could stain it. Putting in my earbuds, I selected my Edward playlist, grimacing when John told me all I needed was love.
It was going to take a fuck ton more than love.
We worked into the night again, only pausing to say hi to Mrs. Cullen when she arrived home and drink the hot cocoa she brought out for us. When Mr. Cullen got home, he took my father inside to go over what the house needed while I finished up on the ramp. The first coat of the stain had been applied, and I began the second coat, singing "Got to Get You into My Life" to myself.
The door opened and Mrs. Cullen stepped out onto the porch. Pulling the headphones off, I looked up.
"Can I talk to you a minute, Jasper?"
"Sure, ma'am," I said, standing up and brushing the snow off my knees before walking up the ramp to her.
"It's beautiful, by the way. You both do impeccable work."
"Thank you."
"Jasper, Edward is coming home tomorrow but he will still be out of school for at least two or three more weeks. I know I've already asked you to gather his work-"
"Do you need it? I've got it all at home," I interrupted. "I can go get it right now."
"No, dear, that's okay, thank you, we appreciate it. However, I've been in touch with the school and they fear he is going to fall too far behind unless he has a tutor of sorts."
"A tutor?"
Edward was the smartest person I knew, how could he possibly need a tutor?
"Well, not a tutor exactly, but someone to help him catch up on what he's missed, and go over the current lessons so that when he returns it will be like he didn't miss anything. I was hoping you would be willing to be that person?"
"Me?"
"Yes, you have a lot of the same classes, I know you will be here anyway, so might as well put you to work," she said, winking at me. "And I know Edward would feel more comfortable with you than anyone else."
"I…uh…um…" I stuttered, my mind reeling with scenarios of being kicked out on my ass by Edward when he saw me. Then again, it was a way to get my foot in his door. He wouldn't have a choice; he would have to see me. "Sure. Whatever I can do to help," I finally answered.
"Great, I'll call you tomorrow with more details after I talk to the school. Thanks for everything, Jasper. I know he'll appreciate it."
Or hate me even more.
"No problem."
My dad appeared at the door, giving Mrs. Cullen a hug before we headed to the truck. On the way home he said he'd finish the ramp the next day while I was at school and I told him I might be helping Edward catch up with schoolwork.
I excused myself after dinner and went up to my room. Not even bothering with my computer, I flopped onto my bed, set my alarm and grabbed the article on reflexive erections. I woke up at two and began my nightly routine. The drive to the hospital was especially cold, my body shivering even though the heat was on full blast in the car. Mrs. Fuller nodded at me as I walked down the hall and turned into Edward's room.
My breath caught in my throat like it did every time I saw him. Hiding in the long shadows, I walked to his side and stared at him. His fingers twitched when I went to put my hand over his and my eyes darted to his to be sure they were still closed. I was dying to touch him, to feel his skin, his pulse, even run my fingers along his cheek or through his dirty hair.
Anything.
Even though he was only a few feet from me, his hand even less than that, I felt him slipping through my grasp. The tenuous hold I had on us by visiting every night was weakening by the second, by every unspoken word and every missed caress. My heart constricted in my chest, the grip of agony tightening with each breath I took, each tear that rolled down my cheek.
With a quiet 'I'm sorry,' I turned and headed for the door, pausing only for a second when I heard his sleepy, raspy 'Jasper'. Letting the door swing closed behind me, I sprinted down the hallway, trying to find my way through the tears. Sitting in the car, my life fell apart around me and I clawed for some semblance of the life I had known, the life that was fading away quickly. Taking a few deep breaths, I started the car and drove home, my mind repeating his voice in my head.
I walked in my door, put my mom's keys in her bag and turned for the stairs.
"Where have you been?" she asked from behind me. With a sigh, I stopped but didn't turn to face her. I knew without looking she was sitting on the couch, her feet curled up under her and a cup of tea in her hands.
"Nowhere," I replied, hanging my head down.
"You've been at the hospital, haven't you?" she asked, already knowing the answer. Glancing at her over my shoulder, I confirmed her suspicions.
"I'm going to bed," I said before taking the stairs two by two. She didn't try to stop me.
"**~~**"
"Sure, Mrs. Cullen, I can be there about four," I answered as I paced back and forth in my room, running my hand through my hair constantly. "Okay, great, see you then."
Pressing end, I tossed my phone onto my bed as I bolted from my room and down the hall. Skidding into the bathroom, I pulled the seat up, barely making it to my knees before my stomach began to heave up its non-existent contents. It seemed like forever that my muscles constricted to push up nothing but bile. Panting, I hovered over the toilet, my sweaty forehead resting on the cold porcelain until I felt most of the nausea had passed. Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I sat back against the wall, and bringing my knees up, I put my head on them.
Behind closed eyes, I saw him in front of me, kneeling with his hands covering mind, his fingers lightly stroking my heated flesh.
"It's going to be okay, Jasper," he promised. "We can get through anything together, remember?"
With a tear streaked face, I looked up at the ghostly image of him, wishing he was really there. Squinting my eyes, I watched him slowly fade away.
"Wait, don't go…please don't go," I begged, reaching out for a boy that had never really been there. Deep down, I knew it was all my imagination, that Edward was somewhere else, and that the lack of sleep had began to play tricks on me. Sliding down the wall, I curled up on my side and let it all out, the frustration, fear, grief, misery…all of it. My stomach had already emptied, now it was time for my heart to do the same.
The tears ran down my face and neck, soaking the collar of my shirt as I willed myself off the floor, each small movement proof that I was still alive even though my heart had stopped beating. Pulling myself up to the sink, I looked at myself in the mirror for the first time in days.
A broken boy returned my stare, bloodshot eyes, dirty, greasy hair, unshaven pale skin and black circles greeting me in my reflection. I splashed some water on my face and brushed my teeth before heading back to my room to change my shirt.
The room I used to love, that was once my escape from the world and my parents, what used to be my solace had become my jail cell. Everything in it reminded me of a happier time. Reflections of Edward and I and the love that used to be was everywhere, from the picture on my nightstand, to the wallpaper on my computer to the seashell on my bookshelf, even the shirt on top of the dirty laundry, they were all reminders of a dream that had been lost.
Of broken promises.
I had less than an hour before I had to be at Edward's and I spent it lying on my bed with "Hey Jude" playing at full blast in my ears. After the eighth replay, I sat up and took a few deep breaths before grabbing my bag and stuffing all of the homework I had gathered for Edward into it.
I didn't jog to his house; I walked at a slow pace, barely putting one heavy, clumsy foot in front of the other until they reluctantly brought me to his house. My eyes went to Mr. Cullen's car in the driveway, rarely home midday, and my heart skipped a beat with the reality of knowing why he was there.
Edward was home.
I walked up the new ramp instead of the steps, knowing Edward had traveled it for the first time not long before, and if I looked really close, I could see the tracks of his wheels in the fallen sleet. With one last deep breath, I knocked on the door and immediately heard shuffling inside.
It was no surprise when Mrs. Cullen opened it and greeted me with a hug, pulling me into the house at the same time. She glanced outside before closing the door and turning to me.
"Did you run?" she asked, concerned.
"I walked," I answered, slipping my bag off my shoulder.
"Jasper Whitlock! It's freezing outside and you have nothing but a sweatshirt on. Carlisle could have gone and picked you up," she chastised me.
As if on cue, Mr. Cullen walked in and held his hand out for me. "Jasper, son, good to see you again."
"He walked here," she told him with an unmistakably motherly tone.
"Jasper?" he asked, looking at me, and I nodded.
"My parents are at work," I shrugged. "I run everywhere. It's not a big deal."
I cringed as soon as the words had left my mouth, tossing around the word run so lightly, claiming the skill to put one foot in front of the other was an easy task when their son had just lost the ability to do so.
"I'm sorry, that was-"
"Don't worry about it, Jasper," his mother stopped me with a hand on my arm. "You don't need to censor yourself around us."
Part of me wanted to ask about Edward. Now that I had my new knowledge about his injury, I wanted to know exact details about his condition. I also wanted to ask them insane questions about the most random things, such as 'how about them Seahawks' but it was just a ploy to avoid him, to avoid walking into his room and facing the reality of seeing him in a wheelchair.
"Esme, why don't you go get some hot cocoa for us while I talk to Jasper for a minute?" Mr. Cullen suggested and she headed for the kitchen. "Sit, Jasper."
Doing as he asked, I put my bag on the floor and sat in the chair across from him.
"I wanted to give you an idea on what to expect before you go down there," he said, leaning forward. It was just like the hospital where he'd had to warn me about seeing Edward for the first time. I knew he couldn't possibly look worse than he had in lying in the hospital bed. Even though I was conscious I was biting my lip, I couldn't stop. "He looks much better than he did in the hospital. His bruises are almost gone, the cuts are healing well and his color is coming back."
"Okay," I answered, unsure what else to say. "That's good."
"Yes, it is. But there is more. There are no monitors like the hospital. He is free to move around at will with some limitations. He is still too weak to get from the chair to his bed by himself but that will come soon. There is a catheter bag hanging on the side of his chair. He looks like Edward but…well, there are other differences. He's gone through a traumatic event and he is still trying to wrap his mind around everything that happened and what it means. Emotionally, he is all over the place. One minute, he's sad, the next he is accepting. There are outbursts of anger as well."
Oh, I expected more than an outburst.
"Okay. Um…is there…ah…anything I should say?"
"Just whatever comes naturally. You two are best friends, you've been there for each other before, just be there for him now, Jasper. If he lashes out, don't listen to him. He just needs time to adjust. He'll come around."
Mrs. Cullen walked in and handed us each a mug of cocoa before sitting next to her husband. I sipped it, ignoring the burn as it went down my throat. The slower I sipped, the longer I could put off seeing him.
Mr. Cullen continued. "His PT and OT are coming over tomorrow, they will start his therapy and we're hoping he will be back to school in about two weeks. Do you think you can come over every day after school to work with him?"
"Yeah, no problem," I replied quietly.
"He's down in my old office. We brought his bedroom downstairs to make it easier on him, and us."
"No more than an hour," Mrs. Cullen reminded me.
As if he would let me stay an hour.
"Okay," I said slowly, and then realized they were hinting I should go see him. Setting the mug down on the table, I gave them a smile, picked up my bag and headed down the hall toward Edward's new room. My stomach churned with each step, my feet scuffling along the wood floor until I was standing in front of the door. With a pounding heart, I knocked once and waited.
There was no response.
Glancing down the hall toward the living room, I knocked again.
And waited.
No response.
Mrs. Cullen peaked around the corner at the end of the hall. "Just go in, he's waiting."
Nodding, I turned the knob slowly before pushing the door open. My eyes were immediately drawn to him. His back was to me as he sat in his chair in front of the window that overlooked the backyard and their pool. Other than the very slight rising of his shoulders as he breathed, he was completely still, almost marble-like. His hair had been washed and was back to its natural disarray, although the colors seemed to have lost some of their brilliance.
What struck me the most was the chair, and how intimidating it was. It wasn't like he was sitting in a desk chair or a big armchair with his leg hanging over the armrest. There was no mistaking the wheelchair for anything other than what it was.
A prison.
The back and seat were black leather that gave a bit under his weight. The wheels were huge and covered in a black rubber, and a smaller metal wheel was just outside it, probably for his hands to push. A shiny metal frame led up to the handles where there were rubber grips. His feet rested at an uncomfortable angle on hard plastic squares.
Regardless of what he was in, the hospital bed or the chair, it was still Edward. When I released the breath I had apparently been holding, I saw this jaw twitch and then tense.
"Hi," I choked out. I wanted to step forward, I wanted to go to him, to kneel by his side and put my head on his lap, I wanted to feel his reassuring touch in my hair, telling me it was going to be alright. I wanted him to look at me, want me, forgive me. My feet didn't move, I was glued to the spot near the door, my heart racing and thumping more with each second that passed.
Tearing my eyes from him, I glanced around his new room for the first time. It was set up almost exactly like his one upstairs, only there was no desk chair and there was an extra table in the corner of the room. On it were piles of boxes of catheter bags, tubes, rubber gloves, iodine pads, and adult diapers.
That's when I felt the tears on my cheeks.
I didn't know what to say first. Apologize for everything, beg for his forgiveness, or just go on like nothing had changed.
Maybe I should do something else all together. Communicate with him in a way that had soothed him before.
Setting my bag down on his bed, I forced myself to take one step closer. Still behind him, I began in a whisper.
"When I find myself in times of trouble, mother Mary comes to me,
speaking words of wisdom, let it be.
And in my hour of darkness she is standing right in front of me,
speaking words of wisdom, let it be.
Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be.
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be.
And when the broken hearted people living in the world agree,
there will be an answer, let it be.
For though they may be parted there is still a chance that they will see,
there will be an answer. Let it be."
I made it through two verses before he spoke.
"Leave."
My breath caught in my throat, I was thankful to hear his velvet voice, even in its new rougher tone.
"Edward, I-"
"NOW!" he roared, but his body remained lifeless.
Stunned at the amount of rage in one small word, I instinctively took a step backwards. I glanced down at my bag on his bed, the work for him filling it to the max.
Everything in me told me to leave, to run and never go back. The odds were stacked insurmountably against us, and there was no fighting them.
He was paralyzed and blamed me for it.
I needed to get out of there, apologize to Mrs. Cullen and tell her she needed to find someone else, perhaps Bella. I needed to go home and weep for all we had lost; for all that we would never know.
I needed to do all those things.
But something made me sit down on the bed. Opening my bag, I pulled out history book, figuring it was best to start with something easy for me.
"Mr. Richards sends his best and said that you can take the two tests you missed when you get back. Until then, he wanted me to help you study for them. We're still working on the battles Grant fought Lee. We had to write a two page essay on why we think neither side was declared the winner."
My hands shook as I flipped through the pages of the book, concentrating on the words in front of me even when I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. It was slight, but his head had tilted and he was almost glancing at me over his shoulder.
"Why are you still here?" he asked, his voice hard but not nearly as loud as before.
"To tutor you," I mumbled.
"Tutor me? We both know I'm smarter than you," he snorted. Keeping my eyes on the book, I refused to look at him, to grant him my attention just so he could yell at me.
"And we both know I've been at school the past two weeks and you haven't," I reminded him sharply.
His eyes rolled before he turned back to the window. "I can catch up on my own just fine."
"Fine, but I'm not leaving. Your mom asked me to do this, and I'm going to." I shifted on his bed and began to read. "The Battle of Spotsylvania Court House was the second major battle in Lieutenant General Ulysses Grant's Overland Campaign. The battle was fought in the Rapidan-Rappahannock river area of central Virginia, a region where more than 100,000 men on both sides fell between 1862 and 1864. The Confederates won the race to Spotsylvania and each army began to take up new positions north of the small town. As Union forces probed Confederate skirmish lines to determine the placement of defending forces, Union VI Corps commander Major General John Sedgwick was killed by a sharpshooter; he was succeeded by Major General Horatio G. Wright. Lee deployed his men in a trench line stretching more than four miles, with artillery placed that would allow-"
"Will you shut the fuck up already," he sighed, his head dropping back onto the leather backrest.
"-fire on any attacking force. There was only one major weakness in Lee's line—an exposed salient known as the 'Mule Shoe' extending more than a mile in front of the main trench line. Lee recognized this weakness during the fighting. They actually broke the Confederate line, and the Second Corps had a hard time driving the-"
"Get out," he growled when I had ignored him.
"So that is one of the battles that needs to be mentioned in the essay, the other is-"
"GO!"
"The Battle of the Wilderness, fought in May of 1864. It was the first battle of Lt. Gen. Ulysses S. Grant's 1864 Virginia Overland Campaign against Gen. Robert E. Lee and the Confederate Army of Northern Virginia. Both armies suffered heavy casualties, a harbinger of a bloody war of attrition by Grant against Lee's army and, eventually, the Confederate capital, Richmond, Virginia. The battle was tactically inconclusive, as Grant disengaged and continued his offensive."
The door pushed opened and Mrs. Cullen poked her head inside. "How are you two doing? Need anything? Some snacks or drinks?"
My stomach twisted at the thought of food. "I'm good, thanks, Mrs. Cullen."
"Edward?"
"I'm fine," he snapped. I looked at his mom in time to see the flash of pain before she covered it.
"If you need anything…." She closed the door a little.
"You don't have to treat her like shit, ya know. You're pissed at me, don't take this out on her."
Finally a reaction, he spun the chair, slowly and clumsily, bumping into the end of the bed as he did so.
"Why not? She is the reason you're here right now, isn't she?"
Hurt, I stared at him, seeing him conscious and face to face for the first time since he'd left my room on New Year's Eve. He looked like he had in the hospital bed, pale and thin, although his body was hidden under the jeans and Beatles tee shirt he wore. The eyes that used to look at me with love now glared at me, filled with rage and disgust.
But he still took my breath away.
Desperately I searched those green eyes for some trace of the love he'd once had, but the loathing and despair was thick, clouding anything that he had felt before the accident. The longer we stared at each other, the faster my heart pounded. I felt my chest heaving like I had just run a race, but I was completely still, caught under his trance of revulsion. It was a battle of wills; neither of us was going to give up easily. He was trying to use his anger to scare me away, and honestly, I was fucking petrified, but I remained on the bed.
Ever since I bugged him day and night for over a month until he finally let me wear his coveted Abbey Road tee shirt, Edward said I was the most stubborn person he knew. I was putting that stubbornness to the test.
He broke the silence first.
"I fucking hate you," he spat at me. "You're nothing but a nuisance. Don't know what I ever fucking saw in you. This," he said with contempt, motioning to his lifeless legs, "is all your fucking fault."
The words cut deep through any hope I'd had for us, but even as my heart broke with his honesty, I let him continue because if it was what he needed, I was going to give it to him, it was the least I could do. I would have given him anything, even if it was my shattered heart on a platter.
Fuck, if they could do leg transplants, I would have cut mine off for him.
Holding his gaze, I refused to look at his legs. I refused to hide the tears that rolled down my face.
"Edward, I'd give you my legs if I could, I swear I would," I whispered.
He shook his head disbelievingly. "Sure you would, Mr. Track Star. You think you'd give up being able to run your five minute mile to sit in a chair the rest of your fucking life?"
I swallowed hard. "Yes, for you I would," I almost sobbed. "I would give up anything to turn back time."
He eyed me warily, judging my words, and the truth behind them, before speaking again. "You can't turn back time, but you can get your ass out of my fucking room and not come back," he said harshly before fumbling with his chair and turning it back toward the window. For a few more minutes, I sat on his bed and stared at the back of his head, the tears running freely down my cheeks. After swiping at them, I pulled his books out my bag and put them on his bed.
Standing, I put my empty bag on my shoulder and turned for the door. As I put on my hand on the knob, I looked at him one last time over my shoulder.
"I know you don't like me very much right now, but I still love you," I whispered softly. The next words on my lips were the habitual 'be safe, baby,' but suddenly they seemed useless. It was too late for wishing for his safety. I opened the door and walked out of his room but I refused to walk out of his life.
Mrs. Cullen was in the kitchen and heard me coming down the hall. "Did you make some progress?" she asked, wiping her hands on a towel.
Abso-fucking-lutely none.
"A bit, but he seemed kinda tired," I replied.
"We'll see you tomorrow after school then?"
"You bet," I gave her a small smile before heading for the door.
He was trying to wipe me from his life, but I was part of his history, and I wasn't going anywhere.
"**~~**"
At four o'clock, I knocked on the Cullen's door and waited for Mrs. Cullen to answer. I had barely slept the night before, the circles under my eyes so dark I looked like I'd been in a fight and lost. Bella even commented on the weight I'd lost and that maybe I needed to start taking better care of myself.
I scoffed at her suggestion.
If he was suffering, then I was going to suffer right along with him.
After school, I had gone home for a few minutes, organizing the work I had gathered for Edward before heading to his house. Outwardly, I hoped the meeting would go better than the day before, that perhaps he had worked off his anger and he would be more accepting of my presence, but deep down I knew he would be as pissed. It was that realization that had made my steps slow and awkward as I shuffled along the slushy sidewalk.
Mrs. Cullen answered the door, her normally hopeful expression had been replaced by one of exhaustion and worry.
"Come in, Jasper," she said, ushering me inside her home. "Want some hot chocolate."
"Sure," I agree, knowing she would make it regardless. "How's Edward today?" I asked as I followed her into their kitchen.
Sighing heavily, she put the pot on the stove. "He's having a hard time adjusting. Carlisle says it's normal but…I don't know."
I stood in the doorway, unsure what to offer for comfort. She was a second mother to me, but I felt awkward and unsure how to react to her words.
"His physical therapist came by this morning, and as soon as she entered his room, he promptly told her to…well, he asked her not so politely to leave."
I almost chuckled at the way she covered up Edward's foul language.
"Then his occupational therapist came by to show him how to change his catheter and he told her to keep her hands off him or he'd sue her for harassment." She turned to me. "She promptly left and said I needed to have a talk with him. They are both coming back tomorrow to try again."
"I'm sorry," I said to her, to him, to them all. If it hadn't been for me, she wouldn't be standing in front of me nearly in tears. Her son would be standing by my side and not stuck in a chair down the hall.
"I offered to help him shower but he refused. I had to change his catheter earlier and he just shut his eyes and banged his hands on his bed the entire time. I know it's not easy for him, but I don't know what else to do, Jasper. Until he learns to do it himself, I have to…"
I nodded, having no idea what to do or say.
We stood in the kitchen in an uncomfortable silence while the water worked to a boil. When it was done, she poured it into a mug and handed it to me.
"Good luck," she mumbled as I thanked her and headed down the hall to face him once again.
I didn't even bother to knock, I pushed his door opened and wasn't surprised to find him in much the same position as the day before. His tee shirt was different and his hair dirtier, but other than that he was exactly the same.
Facing the window, looking out over the pool, his face was stone cold, his body still. I knew his heart was beating and his mind was racing, but he showed no other signs of life. He didn't even twitch when I walked in. I knew Edward, I knew he heard me walk down the hall, he knew I was there; he just chose not to acknowledge me. Sitting down on the bed, I pulled out the new work for him and opened up our physics book.
"We began a section on thermodynamics in physics today," I began quietly, hoping he couldn't hear the trembling of my voice, "which are systems that are able to transfer thermal energy into at least one other form of energy. The laws of thermodynamics were developed as some of the most fundamental rules which are followed when a thermodynamic system goes through some sort of energy change."
Glancing up from the book, I looked for a reaction.
Nothing.
Sighing, I continued. "The laws of thermodynamics do not concern themselves with the specific how and why of heat transfer, which makes sense for laws that were formulated before atomic theory was fully adopted. They deal with the sum total of energy and heat transitions within a system, and do not take into account the specific nature of heat transference on the atomic or molecular level," I read directly from the book. Monotonously, I continued to read and review everything we'd gone over in school. I also filled in his homework for him considering he wasn't going to do it himself.
"The next question is 'define the zero law of thermodynamics.' What do you think that is?" I asked him, tapping the pencil against the book as I waited for his response. After a minute of silence, I answered. "It's two systems in thermal equilibrium with a third system that are in thermal equilibrium to each other."
I wrote down the answer on his homework while he stared out the window, never acknowledging my presence in any way. I wondered how he could be so still for so long. I asked him more physics questions that I answered myself, until finally, the paper was complete. Slamming the book closed, I looked around his room, looking for something to give me an idea on what to do or say.
"Baby, I don't know what to do," I admitted quietly. "I just know…I know this is hard on you, on your parents, but I also know you can do it. Remember," I began to sound almost hopefully when the memory came back to me, "When I broke my ankle skiing over vacation last year?" I didn't wait for him to respond. "Remember how I was stuck on crutches for fucking six weeks? I couldn't go up stairs without you holding my arm; I could barely make it down the hall. Remember how you came over every day and went over the work I'd missed? I do. I remember you coming over every day and in between make out sessions, you helped me study. I remember being so mad that I was going to miss the start of spring track, and that if I missed one meet, I would be disqualified from the regionals. I was so mad, but you were there for me, Edward. Every day, no matter what, you were there. Even though I yelled at you, you didn't go anywhere." I felt my chin lift defiantly. "Well, I'm not going anywhere either, so you better fucking get used to seeing me around here."
Finished with my speech, I stood and grabbed my bag. "I'll see you tomorrow," I said before opening the door and leaving. I said good bye to his mother on the way. She asked me how it went and I shrugged.
"It could have been worse," I replied. "See you tomorrow?"
"Same time."
"Okay, see ya then." I walked out into the brisk air, noticing it wasn't nearly as cold outside as it had been in his room.
At home, I skipped dinner and went right to my room, actually turning on the television for the first time in weeks before lying on the bed and beginning my own homework. I flipped through a few channels before settling on an old eighties movie. It played in the background as I worked on my calculus.
"…I gave her my heart and she gave me a pen."
The words caught my attention and I looked up, suddenly very interested in the movie. Watching it, I got an idea. It was a cheesy, but I was willing to do anything. I unplugged my iHome, grabbed my iPhone and headed downstairs.
"I'm going out, can I use the car?" I asked my mother as she and my father watched TV in the living room.
"Where are you going? It's kind of late."
"Edward's," I admitted. "I won't be long, just have to drop off another book for him."
Her eyes dropped to my iHome but she nodded anyway. I took the keys from her bag and went to her car. Parking down the street from his house, I got out, bringing my iHome with me. When I saw that both Mr. and Mrs. Cullen's cars were gone, I thanked whoever was watching over me. Opening the gate to their backyard, I snuck around their house until I was in front of the window Edward stared out of. The curtains were closed, but there was a light on.
After setting up my iPhone, I selected the song I wanted and hit play, turning it up loud enough for him to hear. Then I raised it high above my head, stretching my arms out so much that the sweatshirt I had on rode up and I felt the cold air brushing across my stomach. A few seconds later, the song started.
Maybe I'm amazed at the way you love me all the time
Maybe I'm afraid of the way I love you
Maybe I'm amazed at the way you pulled me out of time
And hung me on a line
Maybe I'm amazed at the way I really need you
I shifted uncomfortably, my arms already beginning to ache from the unusual position.
Please, baby, please…
Maybe I'm a man and maybe I'm a lonely man
Who's in the middle of something
That he doesn't really understand
Maybe I'm a man and maybe you're the only one
Who could ever help me
Baby won't you help me understand
The song replayed two more times, my arms screaming at me to lower them, but I refused. Gritting my teeth, I held it even higher.
I had to have better luck than Lloyd Dobler.
Watching the window for any type of movement, I wondered what I expected him to do. Open the window and say all is forgiven? Invite me in for coffee and cake? Tell me to fuck off?
Just as the song went to start the fourth time, I saw the curtains on their patio door move to the side and then it began to open. My heart skipped and I hit pause on the iHome.
"Jasper?" a small voice asked as the door slid opened further. "What are you doing out here?"
Lowering the iHome, I tried to hide it under my sweatshirt.
"Hey, Alice. I'm….ah, nothing. Just came to drop a book off for Edward and got looking at the pool. "
She walked over, her arms folded over her chest as she glanced from the covered pool to me.
"It's a little chilly for a swim, isn't it?" she joked.
"Yeah," I chuckled nervously. "Well, I should go."
"What about the book?" she asked with a skeptical brow.
"Oh, the book…I um left it in my car," I lied. I'll just bring it by tomorrow. "Night."
"Night," she said as she turned to go back inside. Bolting through the gate, I ran to the car and got in, tossing the iHome into the seat before starting up the car.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
"Edward's right, I'm a fucking idiot," I murmured to myself as I pulled out and headed home.
"**~~**"
The next day after school, I paced my room again, my stomach in knots before going over to see him. His work was already in my bag, my bed was covered with papers on the latest drug therapies for SCIs and my earbuds were tightly in my ears blasting "In my Life".
He had shut me out, tearing me apart, leaving my chest a gaping open hole where my heart used to be. The heart that beat with every breath he took, every word he spoke, every touch he had graced me with.
His life was different now. I got that, really.
I was going to try to be patient until he would return to me, but my confidence in him coming back was dwindling quickly. The longer I waited, the more I realized he wasn't going to do it alone. He needed me to help him realize his life would continue. I was going make it my duty, my crusade, to see him complete once again.
He had to know how we didn't make sense without the other. Eventually, he'd have to listen to me, he couldn't stay silent forever, there had to be a way to break through his fortress, and I was determined to find out what it was. Tossing the strap over my shoulder, I grabbed my bag and headed out.
"Hi, Mrs. Cullen," I said as she opened the door. My stomach instantly heaved when I caught the faint scent of her cooking. I hadn't eaten in days, my stomach refusing to keep anything down except water.
"Hi, Jasper," she greeted in a tired voice. "Come in."
I followed her inside to the kitchen where the water for the hot cocoa was already boiling.
"How is he today?" I asked quietly as she poured a mug of water.
"He refused his physical therapist again; she said she won't come over again until she hears from us. I am going to have Carlisle talk to him tonight. See if he can talk some sense into him."
I leaned against the counter and sipped the cocoa.
"How is he with you? Has he told you anything?" she asked me.
Slowly, I shook my head. "He doesn't speak."
"He just stares out the window?" she asked even though she already knew the answer, and I nodded. Sighing, she closed her eyes. "I just wish I knew how to help him through this. I feel so useless."
"You're not useless. Like Mr. Cullen said, it's going to take some time."
She gave me a weak smile and I left for his room. In the hall, I took a deep breath, preparing myself for what might behind the door.
I pushed it open and immediately noticed the stench of body odor mixed with the slightly bitter scent of urine. Edward was in his chair, facing the window, his head resting against the leather back, his eyes seemed to be glazed over and unfocused as he stared out the window. Formally shiny, thick hair now lay flattened to his scalp in clumps. His tee shirt was different from the day before but instead of jeans he wore cotton pajama pants.
The boy in the hospital who had fought so hard to stay alive was gone, replaced by one who had given up on life, who was refusing to live what remaining life he had. Second chances and miracles meant nothing to him. He was a shell of the boy I loved. Empty eyes and a hardened muscle had taken the place of the bright emerald irises and generous heart he'd once had.
I was heartbroken that he blamed me for the accident, that he would never love me the way he once had but I was more heartbroken over seeing him like that, so desolate, barren of happiness and love. If me walking out of his life would give him his spark back, I would have done it in a second. As much as it would kill me, I would do it.
"Edward?" I began, setting my bag down on his bed. I walked around to the front of him. Kneeling, I put my hands on his knees and looked up at him, ignoring the tears that prickled the edges of my eyes. "Baby, let me in please. Let me try to help you." I reached for his hand, it was limp and cool, but I was encouraged when he didn't rip it from my grasp. I placed his palm against my wet cheek. "Feel me? I'm here, baby. Just tell me what you need me to do."
I waited for his hand to cup my cheek, for his thumb to stroke my tears away.
Neither one happened.
"You promised that we'd make it through anything, Edward, with everything that you are, you promised me, remember?" I stroked his hand with both of mine, trying to give him warmth, some life back into his body. "Remember all the good times, baby? We can have those again, I swear. Just let me in, talk to me. Please," I whispered between sobs. I was vaguely aware of the door being open, that there was a chance I would be heard, but at that point, I didn't care.
"Show me something, baby, show me you're still here with me…please, I need you."
Desperately, I looked around his room in search for something to trigger him. Standing up, I shuffled through the stuff on his desk and then moved to his dresser, finding a picture frame turned over. Lifting it, I saw a picture of Edward and me smiling.
I knew exactly when it had been taken.
Holding the picture, I kneeled in front of him again and held it up.
"Remember this? It was my sixteenth birthday, remember? I do. I remember everything that led up to that moment. The moment when I kissed you." I felt my body begin to tremble. "I remember I was so nervous. Every time you were near me, my heart would just pound in my chest and I knew you felt it. God, I remember wanting to hold your hand so bad that night, I remember watching you lick the barbeque sauce off your fingers and blushing when you caught me staring at you."
I looked up at him, his hollow eyes still gazing out the window.
"For about a week, I knew that was going to be the night I was going to kiss you. I had been testing you for a long time, brushing up against you when I passed you in the hall, laying so close to you when we watched TV that I could feel your body heat. You never moved away, baby, you didn't mind me being so close. Then…then there was the hug the night before. I don't remember why you hugged me, but I remember my heart racing and the way you buried your face into my neck and I felt your breath. I swear you even kissed me there. I knew then, baby. I knew you wanted me but were too afraid."
Sighing, I put the picture on his bed and took his hands in mine again.
"That kiss was the best thing I've ever done, Edward. Even if I walk out of here today and never see you again, that kiss will be the smartest thing I've ever done and I won't ever regret it."
I glanced over my shoulder, out to the pool.
"Is that why you stare at the pool? Because it reminds you of us?" He didn't answer, and I turned back to him. "We had good times in it. God, remember the blowjob?" I whispered. "Jesus, that was hot."
Still nothing. He was motionless, void of any sign of life.
I tried a different approach.
"Is this what you want, Edward? Do you want to be nothing? Sit here and waste your fucking life away? Have your mommy change your catheter and wear a diaper at fucking seventeen years old? This isn't the Edward I know and love. The one I know would be fighting to get his life back, for some independence. Not sitting here like a vegetable. Because that is exactly what you're doing, Edward. You are fucking wasting away to nothing. Just look at yourself, the Edward I love would never do this to himself." My voice had grown hard and cold. Dropping his hands, I stood up and glared down at him as he continued to ignore me. His eyes were vacant, never flinching or even twitching at the cruelty of my words.
"Know what? I don't fucking care anymore. Do whatever the fuck you want, it's your miserable life, live it however you fucking want to. You want me gone, you fucking got it. I'll leave your work on your bed, asshole."
My heart pounded and tightened in my chest as I dumped the work out onto his bed and promptly headed for the door. With once last glance at him, I saw a single tear rolling down his cheek and I knew…I knew the fortress had been cracked and the walls were starting to slowly fall. Smiling a real smile for the first time in weeks, I walked out of his room, vowing to come back every day and bitch at him if that was what it was going to take.
"Bye, Mrs. Cullen," I said to her as I passed the kitchen. "See ya tomorrow."
"Everything okay?" she called out.
"Yeah, everything's fine," I said, and for once, I was starting to believe my lie. I closed their door behind me, taking a deep breath and letting it out before heading down their driveway and toward my house.
I was less than a hundred yards away when my phone vibrated in my pocket. Pulling it out, I readied myself for the message I knew was there.
Get the fuck back in here.
"**~~**"
Thanks for reading~
Forgive Edward, he's going through something pretty traumatic. Who knew Jasper was so stubborn, eh? His stubbornness sure is coming in handy right now.
If you want to donate to help SCI research, or just read more about it, please visit http:/www DOT christopherreeve DOT org
