The Twilight Twenty-Five

Prompt: Retribution

Pen name: Mandi1

Pairing: Alice & Jasper

Rating: T

retribution (n.): something justly deserved; something given or demanded in repayment, especially punishment.

The letter came on a Tuesday afternoon. Tuesday, November 18th, 2020. An ordinary, nondescript day. Rosalie had picked up and sorted the mail, sliding it into the small baskets Esme had placed near the hall tree to organize the various recipients' post. Carlisle was at the hospital for afternoon rounds and would not be there to sort through his letters until later. Emmett gleefully unwrapped the slightly-pirated video game he had had shipped in from Japan and ran off to play shortly after Rosalie had sorted through it all. Edward took his new sheet music into the parlor to practice with Bella and Alice following, the girls sitting on the sofa to finish their shared calculus homework while Edward soared through in a minor key. Esme took the bills to her desk and paid each one promptly. And for Jasper, there was one solitary letter, a small, thin envelope that he brought to his study and slit open with his penknife, standing to read it.

He didn't recognize the handwriting at first, though he berated himself for not doing so later. It was an untidy, scratchy scrawl, and Jasper wondered silently who would be sending him a personally written letter when there was no new business or upcoming events to discuss. But then there was the salutation.

Dear Major –

In his life, only three people had called him 'Major.' Two he still counted as friends, one other the woman who had so disrupted his life that he knew her to be his greatest enemy. He read on, hoping that she hadn't tracked him down, thinking of the consequences that would occur if she had.

Charlotte and I are, for now, residing in Vancouver.

Jasper breathed a small sigh of relief. It wasn't from her. Peter, his old friend, was the correspondent, and he could read on in peace. It was a short letter and wouldn't take too much time, and he stayed standing as he continued.

We're near the university, a lovely area with a shady park and throngs of twenty-something students who don't often pay attention to their surroundings.

He could almost hear the sardonic tone in his friend's writing, and he cracked a small smile before going on.

It's been a welcome change from the heat of the south, where we have just returned from after a visit to our long-forgotten home.

Home? Was Peter truly meaning he had gone back to see her? The woman who had held them as little more than captives, who had nearly killed Charlotte, who had almost wiped out the entire vampire population of the southwestern United States?

Charlotte wanted to pay her respects after catching word of our fallen leader.

Fallen…?

Some two weeks ago, a traveler who learned our story explained that the battalion leader Maria Vega had been destroyed by a messenger dispatched from the Volturi after leading a rampage near the Rio Grande.

Oh, God…

I know you, my empathetic friend, have always had trouble regaining yourself from that life long-passed, and I hope that, now that she has passed, you may find yourself ready to start anew entirely. Charlotte sends her love, and we both hope to see you soon. It has been far too long, Major. Until we do, I remain your faithful friend, Peter.

Maria. Dead. At long last. And here he was, still alive, with his family, happy, free. Jasper fought the sudden urge to vomit.

Questions raced through his head. Had she rebuilt her army as she had so longed to the last time he saw her? Who had been the messenger who had delivered her death? Was it Aro? A lesser immortal sent only for convenience?

And why hadn't he been the one to end her life?

It was a sickening thought, one that made him wracked with guilt as soon as he conjured it up. But it was true. Since the moment he had left Maria's coven, he had dreamt of the day he might be the one to avenge the pain she had caused to countless vampires, pain he had the misfortune to feel reflected back upon him. He wanted to make her suffer just as he had, make her feel the hurt for a long time before finally doing away with her, granting her the release of death he would only give into after a lengthy and torturous session.

It was gruesome. Sadistic. And yes, there was a lot of schadenfreud-ish pleasure associated with the thought, but it was the closure he had wanted. And now he would never get it. Tossing the letter into the trash bin, Jasper sunk down into his seat, leaning his head back against the cool leather and sighing heavily.

"Jazz?" Alice was posed in the doorway, her head cocked to the side in questioning. He didn't say anything in response, nor did he have to. She crossed the room in two steps, alighting in his lap like a kitten, curling up against him, giving him the comfort he needed to remind himself that, yes, he was still a functioning person and not an entirely sadistic beast, as well at that life would still go on without his opportunity for revenge.

Alice knew something was up, even if she couldn't pinpoint it, and she glanced up into his eyes, stroking the side of his face with her hand.

He sighed before speaking. "Maria's dead."

Two words that hung in the air like a knell. And she understood entirely.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He paused to think. Did he want to talk about it? And if he did, could he handle seeing the hurt in her eyes when he admitted what he had wanted to do?

"Jazz."

Alice's voice was slightly forceful, commanding him to look at her. Their eyes met, his worried, hers caring, loving, everything he needed them to be.

"Whatever you're thinking…I will still love you. No matter what. Okay?"

He nodded. "Okay."

She smiled gently and pressed her forehead to his, and it was enough.