A/N: Back! It's a little late in the day, I know, but it's a holiday. I hope everyone got to celebrate by eating some good food and watching fireworks. :-)

Riri, thank you my love. *foozles her beta*

Enjoy!

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Screams.

Loud, blood-curdling screams were coming from Bella's house and my immediate instinct was to bang the door down and anything else that dared to step in my way to get to her.

Rose had somehow forced her way into my home about ten minutes before the screams started, using pity as her ammunition. We'd seen Bella run into her own house after a noise had distracted me in my crusade of getting Rose off my damn property. The sight of Bella distraught had me pushing past Rose, heading for the porch steps, but she grabbed my arms and shoved me back inside, using my distraction as her opening to make a move. I seethed at her as she told me to ignore "the little sneak" next door, brandishing the alcohol in her hand as bait for me to bite.

Grabbing hold of the bottle I chucked it back outside, hearing the dull thud of it hitting the wet grass. I swayed on my heels as I counted down from ten in my head to try and quell my immediate and extreme anger at seeing the damn thing. It churned up feelings of need and want in my gut, feelings I'd been desperately pushing down for weeks. Rose, undeterred by my seething disapproval, perched herself on my couch like she owned it and hiked up her skirt another few inches, because apparently that scrap of fabric she called clothing wasn't short enough for her liking.

I found myself not giving a shit as she created lines of the coke she'd brought with her, along with the whiskey, on a pocket mirror. Eying the razor blade in her hand as she ground the coke into a finer dust and arranged it into four perfect little rows, made my stomach twist. I wasn't taking part in any of her games anymore: the booze, the drugs, or the easy sex she offered daily. I hadn't wanted any of it for months, and since I'd gotten sober, I really fucking despised Rose for her constant come-ons. At least when I'd been plastered, her voice had been dulled and her form blurry. She was so much easier to take drunk.

When Bella's cries hit the air and Rose didn't even bother to flinch in acknowledgement I spat on the floor with disgust. Looking at her with livid eyes as the sounds of Bella's distress didn't even seem to register to her, practically caused a growl to rip from my throat. I turned on my heel and stalked out the back door with my fists clenched.

Rose called after me, but her voice wasn't the one I cared about. Never had been.

Running across the yards, past the garbage cans in the alley, and the washer and dryer on Bella's back porch, I slammed in through the screen door, searching out the origin of Bella's cries and who might have been causing them. My first reaction to seeing her curled up against the front door was relief that I hadn't tried to break in through it, since I would have harmed her if I had.

In five long strides I was crouched down beside her, my hands hovering over her shoulders as panic rose in my throat. She was shaking and pale. I touched a hand to her forehead and felt nothing but clammy skin and a searing fever. Her eyes were clamped shut and her brows were drawn together in something that looked a hell of a lot like pain. The nightmare she was living needed to end. Now.

As gentle as I could force myself to be, I shook her shoulders, trying to get her to wake. She curled into an impossibly tighter ball and sobbed out another cry. I shoved my hands in my hair thinking that I was too dry to handle this and then wanted to slap myself for even entertaining the thought of having a drink while in Bella's home.

God, I was not the savior she needed. I wasn't stable enough, and certainly not strong enough to be a rock for her. Something she was in desperate need of, judging by the terror occurring behind her closed eyes.

Another cry brought me out of my self-pity and back into action.

Leading with instinct, I picked the small girl up off the floor and cradled her to my chest with unsteady arms, rocking her back and forth through her sobs and whimpers. The screams died the moment I enveloped her in my arms. The instantaneous reaction surprised me before I reckoned that a soothing touch was the kind of solace she needed at that moment.

It was simple logic: someone as upset as Bella needed a fucking hug. Period.

Running with that knowledge, I picked us both up off the floor and carried her to the sofa, where I sat and arranged Bella in my lap so that I could hold her closer. She felt too small, too fragile in my arms, and that worried me. Had she been eating enough? Did this kind of nightmare happen often?

Question after question rolled through my brain as I smoothed the messy strands of sweat soaked hair off her forehead. She needed to wake up.

"Bella, please wake up," I spoke into the now quiet room, resting my chin on her head. Her little hands were clinging to my shirt, blunt nails scraping into my skin, but I didn't care. All I wanted at that moment was for her to wake up.

"Bella," I spoke a little louder, shaking her a bit more as I rocked her in my lap.

She jerked with a start, her head hitting my chin causing me to bite my tongue as her back sat up bolt straight in my lap. She gasped before her hands clung to me harder in panic, and looked around the room, eyes darting everywhere. When they landed on me, her anxious gaze widened and she scrambled back on my legs, almost falling.

I caught her before she could tumble, ass over feet to the floor, and pulled her back to me, shushing her and her fears.

"Shh...it's okay, darlin'." She fought my embrace for only a moment before she slumped and breathed out heavily into the room. Shaking her head back and forth, she quickly swiped at the tears that were no doubt spilling from her eyes and held I her tighter for it.

In truth, I didn't want to let her go, but I continued to operate under the assumption that she needed the physical reassurance, and ignored the denial meter that was calling "bullshit" in my brain.

"You wanna talk about it?" I asked, soft as I could. She shook her head and I rocked her some more. Silence followed.

"Your heart's pounding," she said out of nowhere a few minutes later. I almost laughed at her quiet concern, irrationally giddy from the insanity of earlier. The day had been a cluster fuck of an emotional roller coaster.

"You scared me." I told the truth hoping she'd grant me the same courtesy when she felt up to it. Lord knew I wasn't going to push.

"What happened?"

"You screamed. Over and over. I found you on the floor in a ball."

She shuddered at the words and clung to my arms before realizing how tight she was clutching on me and let up, dropping her hands.

"No," I said, saddened that she wasn't relying on me as much as she could, as much as I wanted her to. "It's okay," I encouraged her.

Slowly, her hands came back up, holding onto me as she sat sideways in my lap. A moment later, her face burrowed into my shirt, her nose nuzzling my chest in a childlike way. There was nothing suggestive about her embrace; she needed comfort and a safe place to fall. I was lucky enough to represent both to her in that moment, and I smiled into her hair, happy to be of service.

. . .

Orange was blinding me, coloring my entire world with tangerine, and I hunkered down, away from the onslaught of the garish color. My nose buried itself into silky strands of strawberry scented hair, and I breathed it deep into my lungs, enjoying the subtle sweetness. The orange dimmed, but the color persisted before I realized that my eyes were closed and the source of the color was light streaming in through my eyelids. Blinking slowly and feeling groggy, I turned my head in the direction of the light, hoping to snap off the lamp or whatever the hell it was so I could get back to sleep.

I looked out a window covered in sheer curtains, surrounded by white molding and sage green walls. The sun was hanging low over the ocean, piercing my eyes with it's morning shine, and the location of it was slightly to the left of where I normally saw it sit over the horizon.

I wasn't in my house.

Something stirred next to me, nuzzling into my chest and squirming closer to my now achingly aware body. I looked down in a slight panic, realizing I'd spent the night with Bella in my arms and that we were currently curled around each other on her couch.

Well, shit. Wasn't this an interesting way to wake up? On the one hand, I wanted to smile myself silly with the knowledge that Bella trusted me enough to fall asleep in my arms and that we passed the night together in such a chaste and yet intimate way. Her legs were twisted in mine, our thighs joined at the hips with Bella's small feet pressing in my calves for warmth. My hands were clinging to her back, holding her impossibly close while her head was tucked underneath my chin; her breath fanning across my neck. It all felt so utterly perfect and soothing that I sighed with happiness like a damn idiot.

Really, who got that happy over breathing? Apparently, I did.

On the other more rational hand, this particular situation could be construed as bad. Very bad. Bella wasn't the sort of person who'd normally fly with this kind of thing. At least, I didn't think she was. She was shy, introverted, and self-protecting. It took her weeks to actually become comfortable in my presence, and that trust was not something I wanted to lose because I'd been stupid enough to fall asleep with her in my arms while I tried to comfort her. Not to mention my own "what the fuck are you doing" conscience, which reminded me that I hadn't slept with a woman in my arms since I'd left the south and decided that Jack Daniels and Johnnie Walker were more preferable bedfellows.

Both of those arguments left me nowhere. I couldn't uncurl myself from her grasp without disturbing her, and frankly, I didn't want to. I also didn't want to risk waking her prematurely because she was sleeping soundly next to me without the slightest hint of tension in her body, and I wasn't about to ruin that because I had a mental freak out about what this all meant.

Bella seemed relaxed and content where she was. Considering the last time I saw her sleeping she was screaming down the roof, her current state of REM sleep was much preferred. For us both, I dared to assume.

Bella squirmed against me, trying to burrow further into my arms like a kitten would its mother. I found myself holding her tighter and tucking my head down to breathe in the smell of her hair once again. She relaxed as I held her close and the smile that spread across my face could have burned the house down it was so damn bright.

Shaking off the spontaneous bubbles of joy that wanted to erupt from my chest, I reminded myself that she obviously didn't realize who she was holding, or how tight I was holding her back. She was probably just enjoying the warmth. Her normal demeanor around me was still skittish and cautious.

In other words, Jasper, this means nothing.

Also, stop referring to yourself in the third person, you self obsessed bastard.

With deliberate breaths, I attempted to calm myself, taking inventory of the things around me. The sun was low on the horizon, meaning it was still early yet in the morning. Everything seemed peaceful and quiet in Bella's home, nothing out of place, and the soft din of the ever present radio set to NPR drifted in from the kitchen. Bella's pet fish was staring daggers at me from its little circular home across the way, and I decided to challenge him or her to a staring contest to keep my mind off of the hypothetical for the time being.

Before I knew it, my eyelids were sinking low as my breaths evened out and Bella sighed softly in my arms. Sleep had come to take me again.

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A/N: SEE! Progress. Happy times. I told you they'd come again. :-)