JPOV
I tentatively chased sleep, appeasing my mind by thinking that Carlisle would be here soon. He would know what to do. He always knew.
Forgive me, Edward.
I woke up the next day, in the afternoon, lying on my couch. I didn't know why I was there. Then a few seconds later, my mind remembered the only thing that could bring back my still sleepy memories: Edward.
Did it really happen? Did I really treat Edward like he was nothing more than a sex toy, like I didn't care? The more I recalled last night's event, the more I felt sick. I was having these visions, weird visions. Buried balls deep in Edward, it was heaven. I'd never felt so connected to another human being before. Bending down, I found Edward in a completely other state of mind. He wasn't aroused. I could see things clearly now. His hands held the bed so tightly; his steady breathing was just a mask. His whole body was tensed every time I thrust in him. Why hadn't he said his safe-word? Had he been scared of me?
My back to Edward and forehead pressed against the door, I stuck the knife in deeper. "You have to go… now... you have to leave, Edward. Don't try to call me. Don't come here again. Just leave me alone." I was so scared that I pushed him could I have done this? After practically raping him, I threw him away without a single explanation or even an apology.
Once I comprehended the gravity of the situation, I ran to the bathroom and emptied my stomach. I couldn't face the truth. I couldn't face Edward, but I wanted so much to check on him to see if he was okay. Of course he is not okay, how could he be? He must hate me. He would never want to see me again, and how could I blame him? I told him to leave me alone.
Crying more than ever, I lie back on the couch and buried myself under the blanket. For the first time in a long time, I prayed, not for me but for Edward. I wished that he was fine, that last night hadn't cause too much damage. I prayed that he would have a good life, even if it wasn't with me. He deserved it so much, he was so lost. Please God, help him.
I must have fallen asleep because when I opened my eyes, it was dark outside. I checked my phone and saw a message from Carlisle, which told me that he landed in Orly and was on his way.
I quickly took a shower and cleaned up the apartment, leaving the bedroom untouched.
I was preparing myself a sandwich when someone banged on the front door. I put everything down and rapidly opened the door.
As soon as I saw Carlisle, my head bowed and I had a huge pang in my chest. Don't cry, not now, not in front of him. I could talk myself down all I wanted, but my body wouldn't shut down. Tears started to fall down my face. I had never been able to hold back anything with him.
Carlisle didn't move or do anything. He waited for me to calm down and have the courage to face him. He gave me time. I wanted him to be here. I needed it, but when I found myself in front of him, everything came back, all the guilt and the sadness I created. Everything was multiplied and thrown back in my face. It was all real now.
I couldn't stop crying. Small drops of pain crashed against the wooden floor until I finally had nothing left to shed. Gripping my jeans tightly, I took a deep breath and without drying my face, I looked at Carlisle.
Always full of patience, he smiled shyly at me. He was still handsome. Three years had only increased his beauty. He was casually dressed, black jeans and a beige hooded sweatshirt, but even in these cool clothes, Carlisle always emitted a certain authority and wisdom. I could never be like that.
"Jasper…" He put his hands on my shoulders and pulled me into his arms.
Neither of us talked, words weren't necessary. I held him tightly for a minute, letting him comfort me.
Carlisle broke our embrace, but kept his hands on my forearms. "You look terrible." He took a second look at my body and added, "You're so skinny. Are you okay?"
I completely forgot that Carlisle didn't know about the cancer. Since the chemo, I had lost a lot of weight. In the beginning, I'd tried to do sports to compensate, but since I'd been sick half the time confined to bed, I'd quickly forgotten this solution. When I was done with chemo, I was just tired and lazy. I thought that I had been through enough that I'd deserved to rest. Nevertheless, I ate more and learned to appreciate a good meal.
I didn't answer his question. Instead, I silently guided him to the living room. I had to tell him what happened since I left New York, but I didn't want to do it on the front door.
We sat down on the couch and I looked at Carlisle, his eyes so full of compassion. I didn't deserve any of this. I broke down again, crying in earnest. My life had been a nightmare since the last time my eyes fell on his face. It was weird because it seemed as if it was yesterday, but at the same time, a million years ago. So much had happened so quickly.
I took deep breaths and focused on calming down. It's Carlisle; there is no shame to have. He's here to help.
More relaxed, I played with my fingers and fixed my gaze on the coffee table. I gathered all my will and started to confess. "When I landed in Paris, I had to do a check-up, since I left the hospital against the doctor's advice." There was a lump in my throat. I didn't know why but I was scared to talk to Carlisle. "During this check-up, they discovered something… I had cancer." I heard him gasp but I couldn't stop now. If I had, I knew I wouldn't have the courage to continue. "Liver cancer. I had chemotherapy sessions, and I am okay now. But it left some scars. I'm not the man I used to be.
"Everything that happened… sometimes, I wonder if I didn't deserve all of this. I was always so eager for life, never satisfied. Maybe I suffered all of those punishments because of what I've done… and now, I don't have anything left. My friends are all gone, I haven't spoken to my parents in years, and Edward… I've done and said some horrible things to him. I'd be surprised if he still wants to talk to me." All my feelings were resurfacing; my emotions couldn't be kept at bay. "I don't know how to get through this, Carlisle. I dug my own grave and I feel stuck in its depth." I was so ashamed to admit my failure to Carlisle. Nobody should see me so vulnerable.
Carlisle let me get it off my chest silently. When I finished, he raised my chin with his finger and our eyes met.
"Jasper, you have to stop this now. Yes, you've been through a lot, more than anyone, but there is no need to look for why it happened. It's a dead road, and nothing good can come up. You didn't do anything wrong. Right now, you have to focus on what you can solve. I can't say that it is going to be easy. It's just that you are headed in the wrong direction. You need to stop the pity party. I know it sounds stupid and trivial but there are people in worse situations than yours. Focus on the good things, you are alive, you survived a horrible aggression and a cancer. How many people do you think could say that?" Carlisle spoke in a very firm but gentle voice.
He waited for my answer. "Not many I guess." Suddenly, I was a little boy in front of his dad.
"That's right, only a few, so you have to stop. Another thing, you do understand why you are in this situation?" Not even waiting for an answer this time, he continued harshly, "It's because you let it happen. You put yourself exactly where you are. I am not saying that the attack or the cancer was your fault. I am saying that you are alone because you want to be." My chest was constricting under the weight of my emotions.
"I understand your desire to run away, but did you have to do it that way and for so long? You succeeded in shutting yourself out from everyone who could help you. Do you realize that? Do you realize the mistake you made in cutting yourself off from your parents, me or anyone?" Carlisle was getting angrier by the second.
I nodded and stared at the coffee table again.
"Good, now are you finally ready to heal, to let people in again?" He was suddenly calmed, but I knew it was just a facade. Carlisle always had an amazing control over his emotions.
I didn't reply; I didn't know what to say. Of course I wanted to be better and stop living under Alec's influence, but I was afraid of what people would think when they learned what happened to me. I couldn't bear the pity in their eyes. They wouldn't see anything other than the victim. It was already unbearable and oppressive to see it in Carlisle's eyes.
"Jasper, I know it's hard but you have to do it." He gently rested his hand on my knee, and I couldn't help but think about Edward. One touch from him made my heart pound wildly and my heart swell. He was always smiling and blushing in my presence. I missed him already. Even if the chances to be reunited with Edward were slim, I had to do it for him.
Not trusting my voice, I nodded.
"One last thing, you know that I'm not the answer to your problem. I promise to stay as long as you need, but I think it would be better if you go talk to someone more qualified." He seemed so concerned. How could he be so concerned when I had treated him so badly?
"I know, Carlisle." He wasn't the answer to everything, but his mere presence was such a relief. It meant that I wasn't alone, that somebody cared for me.
I put my hand above Carlisle's and squeezed it. It was just the beginning of a long road, but a thought kept bumping into my head, wasn't it too late? I had done terrible things to the people I loved, how could they forgive me? Most of all why would they?
Why would Edward forgive me?
The next morning, I woke up on the couch again. My head was spinning and my body was aching. There was a delicious smell in the air, and I could hear Carlisle in the kitchen. I had missed him so much. He had been my first real friend back in New York, guiding me through life but never pushing too hard. He was my mentor.
I dragged myself into the bathroom and took a quick shower. I didn't even think about taking care of my morning wood. There was going to be some time before I allowed myself sexual release. After everything that happened with Edward, sex was the last thing on my mind.
Fifteen minutes later, I was cleaned, shaved and ready to face Carlisle. Suddenly, I was nervous to face him and anxiously wandered what his thoughts would be in the light of the morning.
Entering the kitchen, I repressed a chuckle seeing a ridiculous amount of croissants and pains au chocolat on the table and Carlisle with a cup of coffee in one hand and "Le Monde" in the other.
Strangely, this situation seemed totally natural. Carlisle has always been a chameleon. He could be comfortable in the crowed restaurant on West Side or in a peaceful kitchen in the 15ème arrondissement of Paris.
"I guess you found the newsstand easily?" I asked, more relaxed.
Carlisle calmly took a sip of his coffee and answered, "Good morning to you, too, Jasper."
"Good morning, Carlisle." I approached and kissed his cheek. This simple gesture brought me back to our time together in New York. How many mornings did I wake up at his place, completely at ease, doing the same act? This was our relationship; besides our Master and sub relationship, we were also friends.
"You know you didn't have to buy all this food?" I said, grabbing a croissant. "By the way, is your French still good? Do you still take those classes, or are you like those lazy Americans who think that English is the only language you need?" I gently teased him.
"Détrompe-toi, mon ami. Mon français est parfait. Et puis, est-ce que j'ai déjà été paresseux depuis que tu me connais ?" He replied in a perfect French.
"You still need to work on your accent." Sitting next to him, I poured myself a cup of coffee.
It was nine a.m.; the sun broke through the window to create this amazing, peaceful atmosphere. We could hear a light traffic sound in the background, but it was mostly silent. The private park in the residence was visible through the little curtain.
Carlisle and I quietly ate our breakfast, reading the newspaper in turn. The situation was really weird. It felt like ages since I found myself eating with someone. Everything seemed surreal.
Sensing my increasing discomfort, Carlisle took my hand and said, "Calm down, Jasper. It's just me. I know it's been some time but I haven't changed. Learn to appreciate the moment. Have another croissant." He looked at me in the eyes, making sure I understood his point. After a few seconds, he squeezed my hand and refilled his cup.
I focused on breathing and enjoying the moment. I had nothing to be scared of. Carlisle wouldn't do anything to hurt me.
Finishing my croissant, I wondered what I was going to do today. Carlisle and I could go visit the Louvre, maybe Montmartre if he didn't want a museum.
My thoughts were interrupted by Carlisle's shy voice. "Do you have a doctor in Paris? Someone you can talk to?"
Carlisle and I are definitely not reading from the same sheet of music.
I chuckled and tried to change the subject. "I was thinking; did you ever see the pyramid of the Louvre? You can't miss that, it's so original to have this kind of stuct-"
Carlisle violently smacked his hand on the table and firmly said, "Jasper, I'm not here for tourism. I am here to help you. So stop and answer my question."
I froze in my seat and bowed my head down. Carlisle brought me back to a reality I didn't want to face. He cleared his voice, indicating that he was waiting for my answer.
"N-No, I don't have a doctor." I was afraid. Carlisle only used this tone when I had misbehaved, and generally, it was followed by my punishment.
Carlisle let out a heavy sigh and raised my head with his finger. "Jasper, I'm not your Master anymore. We are friends, but it doesn't allow you to lack respect. When I ask you a question, I expect you to answer me. I'm only here to help you."
I forgot how to act with Carlisle. Our relationship used to be so simple. Maybe it was because, in New York, we were Master and sub before being friends, whereas now, we were just friends. I knew somewhere deep down that Carlisle would always have a special place in my heart. He was my first love, my first and only Master; this was not something I could forget.
Don't forget Alec, whether you like it or not, he was your Master. You said it yourself that night.
I shook my head and held back my tears. I would not break down again in front of Carlisle.
Desperate to distract myself from those thoughts, I suggested that I speak with my doctor at the Institute. He could give me some names.
The morning passed in a blur. After calling several names that my doctor recommended, one of them had a cancellation the next day. I had an appointment for one p.m. It was fast but I had no choice, apparently no doctor in Paris took new patients. I was "lucky" as the secretary emphasized.
Carlisle had been in the bedroom, talking on the phone for practically an hour. I was getting worried; I didn't want to cause him problems at work. He had practically dropped his life for me. There was no way I was adding this to my conscience. I would need to ask him.
Getting a little hungry, I decided to prepare a quick salade niçoise. Carlisle bought bread this morning so I just had to put the ingredients together.
Just as I was pouring olive oil in the bowl, Carlisle entered the kitchen.
"Do you need some help?" he asked, resting against the counter.
"No, thanks," I paused, hesitating. "Everything's fine in New York? You are not going to have any issues because you came here, right?" I demanded, looking at him.
After a few seconds, he unemotionally stated, "Don't worry about me, Jasper. I'm happy to see you, and that's all that matters. Everything else will have to wait until I come back." He was hiding something, but I knew better than to press.
"Do you want to eat? I made a salad," I said smiling as if it was a grandiose achievement.
While we were eating, I informed Carlisle of my appointment for the next day. He seemed pleased, giving me an appreciative nod and a small smile. Somehow, this small acknowledgement warmed my heart.
The rest of the day was pretty uneventful. We walked around the park a bit, watched a movie and before I realized it, I was lying on the couch ready to sleep. Thinking back on the day, I was happy with Carlisle's presence. Everything seemed easier when he was around.
It can work, I'm already felling better. But if everything was so great why wasn't I able to close my eyes and rest? Why couldn't I stop thinking about Edward and the desperation and sorrow in his eyes the last time I saw him?
I tossed and turned all night, unable to find sleep. Once the sun cast its first ray of light, I jumped off the couch and closed myself in the bathroom. Afraid to wake up Carlisle, I didn't take a shower. Sitting on the toilet seat, I lit a cigarette. It was the only thing that could calm me, or at least take my mind off things.
Shutting myself away was the only way to get some peace. I was safe locked in my small bathroom, nothing could happen to me here. I closed my eyes and tried to push the thoughts of Edward away. It was dragging me down. Nothing can be done anymore. He left me.
The saddest part was that if I hadn't pushed him away, I was sure he would have forgiven me. If Edward had loved me enough to accept the stupid condition I put on our relationship, he would have loved me enough to forget my actions, and that was why I wasn't worth his love. How could he forgive me if I didn't forgive myself?
Soon, the bathroom became too small. I couldn't push the thoughts of Edward away. My head was spinning, and I had difficulty breathing. I needed fresh air, open space. Putting on my shoes and a light jacket, I was out of the apartment in thirty seconds.
Walking in the barely awake streets of Paris freed my mind: the cold air against my face, the people around me, and the constant noise in my ear. Everything worked its way through my raging thoughts and calmed me. Being in Paris for more than three years had helped me find its hidden secrets. The constant feeling of anonymity made me both love and hate Paris. Nobody knew what I'd been through here. Wandering in the street or sipping a café on a terrace, I was surrounded by strangers who didn't know anything about my life. It was the only place where I felt normal, but it was also the only place where I felt alone.
I came back to the apartment a little before Carlisle woke up. I didn't want him to worry, and since he was still jetlagged, he wouldn't be up too early.
I was about to pour myself a second cup of coffee when a cleaned and dressed Carlisle sat down at the table.
"Morning, Jasper. How long have you been up?" he said, quickly draining a glass of fresh orange juice.
Without looking at him, I answered, "Half an hour maybe, I wanted to pass by the boulangerie before you wake up." Even I could hear the lie in my voice, but if he noticed, Carlisle didn't say a thing.
"What time are you going to leave for your appointment?" His questions were said in a disturbing monotone voice.
"Probably noon. It's not far, but I'll need to take the bus. Since it's Paris, I have to leave early." Pouring us both a cup of coffee, I waited patiently for his next question.
"Would you like me to come with you? I'll stay in the waiting room." I noted a tiny touch of concern laced in his impassive voice.
"No, I'd rather not. I need to do this by myself. I'll leave you a spare key to the apartment if you want to go out and tour Paris." I didn't want Carlisle to be with me. It would only add more pressure to this already stressful situation. Carlisle nodded his understanding.
The rest of the morning passed quickly. After we finished eating, I took a shower and got ready while Carlisle cleaned up the kitchen.
I dressed simply in jeans and a sweatshirt. I gave Carlisle his key and made my way to the doctor's office.
I had no idea what would come out of this, but it was the only way if I wanted to get better. What else was I suppose to do? I couldn't confess my darkest thoughts to Carlisle, he would totally freak out and blame himself. I needed someone to talk to, but how could I confess to a complete stranger? I didn't trust her, and truth be told, I didn't trust anyone. That was the problem. What the hell is going to happen in this office?
Carlisle POV
Sitting on Jasper's couch, or should I say bed, I vainly tried to watch the television. My mind couldn't focus on anything but Jasper. He looked terrible; his face was registering the guilt of the catastrophes he had been through.
I had not been ready to face him, but when I got his call in New York and his cry for help, I couldn't say no. I owned him. What I didn't say to Jasper was that I hadn't been able to forgive myself for what happened to him. My mistakes destroyed his life, and seeing him in such distress only increased my guilt.
When I went see him at the hospital and they told me that he wasn't there anymore, my heart completely shattered. Everything was my fault. He was my sub and I was supposed to protect him. What kind of Master would let this happen?
My life had changed irrevocably that night; almost as much as Jasper's. I was not a Master after that night. I was not a man.
The key fumbling in the door interrupted my thoughts. I stood up and anxiously waited for Jasper to come in. I was both eager and reluctant to know how the appointment went.
I was surprised to find Jasper with red, swollen eyes. Why did he cry? Did he talk with the doctor? The second he saw me, tears rolled down his face. Maybe he relived the rape. I couldn't decide if it was a good or bad sign.
I didn't have time to ask him anything. He practically ran and locked himself into his bedroom, which was weird since I had never seen him enter his room since I was here.
While I waited for him to calm down, I thought about which way I should approach him. In this moment, Jasper needed someone he could rely on, but also guide him. Putting on my Master mask, I slowly approached his bedroom and knocked on the door. There was no answer. I leaned against the door and resigned myself to wait for him to make a move. He had to willingly come to me.
A couple of minutes later, I was thinking about making coffee when I heard Jasper unlock the door. I took a deep breath and my hand trembled slightly on the handle. Pull yourself together, Carlisle. You can do this. It had been so long since I had this kind of power over someone. I was terrified of making things worse.
Opening the door, I saw Jasper sitting on the floor, his arms around his legs. He looked so broken. A pang smashed my heart violently, but as soon as it came, I was able to refrain it. I had to be brave for Jasper. He needed me, the strong, impassive Carlisle.
"Jasper," I breathed out. "What happened?" I waited at the door, afraid to move.
Shaking his head, he answered, "No, no, no, NON… I can't, Carlisle. I can't remember."
I took a couple steps and kneeled in front of him. "Calm down, Jasper. I don't want you to do anything, but can I come closer?" My voice was pure calm.
When Jasper became my sub, I quickly understood that he needed physical contact to be able to organize his mind and stay calm. We'd established a "talking session" once a week in order to discuss unfettered, freely. It was in those moments, loosely wrapped in my arm, that Jasper completely gave himself to me.
Jasper's head rose at my question and our eyes met. His stare nearly took my breath away. I barely recognized him; he was so different from the Jasper I knew. He was carrying a heavy burden and yet I saw a glimpse of hope in his eyes when he told me that I could approach.
I slowly moved to sit next to him at the foot of the bed and put my arm around his shoulders. Just like old times, he melted into my embrace, practically climbing onto my lap. Holding him close, I heard him crying softly.
A couple of minutes passed and millions of questions ran through my mind. When a dry sob escaped his mouth, I pulled back a little and decided that I had to initiate the talk.
"Jasper, what happened at the doctor's office?" I whispered my head buried in his hair.
"She wanted to know about that night in New York, about the dreams I have." He started to tremble. "But I can't. I don't want to remember. I don't want to remember his kisses on my back or the feeling of his skin against mine. If I open that door, it might never close off again… I don't want to. He might be dead, but not in my mind. I can still feel him, all the time prowling and waiting. I am his,and he'll never let me forget that."
I tightened my grip around him and rubbed his back while I heard him shed his tears.
It was a necessity for Jasper to talk to someone, release the pressure. I was convinced that he needed to take everything off his chest in order to move on. If he couldn't do it with a doctor, maybe he could with me. But do I have the strength of mind to listen to this, relive this terrible moment of my life? For Jasper, there was no doubt.
If I wanted Jasper to open up, we had to go back to the catalyst, the one person that had made him feel again.
"Tell me, Jasper. How did you met, Edward?"
Little translation for those who don't speak French.
"Détrompe-toi, mon ami. Mon français est parfait. Et puis, est-ce que j'ai déjà été paresseux depuis que tu me connais ?" You're wrong, my friend. My French is perfect. Plus, have I ever been lazy since you know me?
