It wasn't until after I finished this chapter that I realized it couldn't very well stand on its own; so, the reason it took me a month to update was because I wanted to upload it in addition to the subsequent chapter, as a hand-in-hand sort of deal.

Jasper's POV

"Keep your eyes on me, now," I instructed gruffly with blank, emotionless eyes. "Be still. Don't move a muscle. Good, now, watch this."

With a kick of my left foot, I sprung backwards, suspended in the air for what seemed like hours, and I spun about, rebounding off the trees and, then, rocketing down toward the ground, aiming directly for Emmett's rock-hard chest. I eased up a bit, so not to hurt him too much, and clipped his chin with the tip of my boot.

He roared, piqued, grabbing my foot and thrusting me towards the house, thinking that he could knock me off my game. If I had responded in a flailing manner and allowed him to toss me like a ragdoll, I would have cleared the house completely and crunched into the solid earth on the converse side; but, instead, I straightened my spine and extended my legs so that I was entirely rigid, and gravity began to point me in the direction of the roof. To mess with him, I flipped several times in the air – for show – before landing gracefully on my feet and crouching low so that my fingertips just brushed the paneled roof.

Snarling, Emmett disappeared into the dark forest, followed a few seconds later by a ripping crack that echoed noisily throughout the woods.

"Timber!" I heard him shout elatedly.

I had memorized the majority of Emmett's stratagems, on the chessboard and in the fight. He played to his own strengths, not to the weaknesses of his opponent, which was, in turn, an Achilles' heel of his. He did so strategically, though, in the following order: 1) brute strength, 2) assistance of the elements, and, finally, 3) acquitted rage. The plan was surefire in his mind, and I wasn't quite sure whether or not he knew that I'd caught on a while ago.

Figuring that Esme would not appreciate a monstrous tree rammed into the side of her house (my assumption was based off the memory of a gigantic boulder slamming through the kitchen window, directly into Esme's unsuspecting flower pots), I left my position on the roof and bolted into the woods. Emmett immediately sensed my change of course and skidded to a stop once he reached the rim of the backyard, turning to face my general direction and hurling the trunk.

He knew his surroundings well; just ahead of me was a large clearing, and behind me the forest naturally parted a bit for an ancient river that had dried up by now – it was like flinging a bowling ball down a perfectly carved lane, and, once I reached the dead-end, I would be the pin. I gave Emmett credit, that was for sure, but I refused to give him the victory he thought was in the bag now.

Once I reached the clearing, I launched myself in the direction of the colossal rock wall that faced me, turning myself at the perfect angle so that my feet would slam against the stone and give me enough time to run along the edge of it. I dashed sideways along the face of the rock, and then jumped from tree limb to tree limb, until I came full circle. I paused for four-tenths of second, watching fleetingly as the elderly tree slammed into the rock and snapped on one side.

As I leveled myself upright back onto the muddy soil, I stood waiting at the mouth of the arid riverbed, the sacrificed tree rumbling behind me as it crashed to the ground. At the opposite head of the passage, I saw Emmett standing, braced, as I was, with clenched fists. I saw the devilish grin cross his face in the distance and I smirked, ready for what he was about to metaphorically throw at me next.

Step 3 of 'Emmett's Book of Tactics 101': Acquitted rage.

With an animalistic bellow, he darted forward. My mind computed the action instantaneously, filing through outcomes and reactions like a central processing unit:

1. Brute Strength

2. Assistance of the Elements

3. Acquitted Rage

- Emmett's Range: the "Boa Constrictor," accelerated battering ram, and the "Iron Fist."

- Jasper's Range: the "Shadow," treetop descent, northward bound strike, westward bound strike, southward, eastward, and so on bound strike, the "Copycat," intellectual estimation, mental chokehold, momentary blindness, mass displacement, the "Edward" and the "Alice," beast vs. beast scenario (also known as the "Two Can Play at that Game"), ect.

Right off the bat, I could tell that Emmett's weapon of choice was the accelerated battering ram, so – flipping through the multiple possibilities – I had no better choice than the "Copycat." Not only was it effective in that I could match Emmett's strategy with my own replica (therefore, not having to think very hard advantageously), it also annoyed the hell out of him.

I sped towards him with the same momentum, bringing mass displacement slightly into play as I positioned myself at an approximately fifty-five degree angle, and a volatile growl slipped from my pursed lips, morphing into a rebellious howl. With every millimeter that was chopped off between us, my adrenaline heightened and I lost hold of my objective – the "Copycat" paled in comparison to the beast versus beast. And I could tell by my brother's wicked grin that he had forgotten his primary intent, as well.

There was no more than one hundred yards between us now. I anticipated the echo that would burst right the surrounding area within a fifty mile radius, the sound of one vampire slamming into another – it was invigorating almost, to foresee such a glorious noise, to know that triumph was within my reach. I increased my pace.

Not much more distance lingered between us; not much more time lingered. Only a few feet remained … before I was yanked back by the neck and choked by a pale, stone arm. My hands swung up, in spite of my disadvantage, trying to rip away the constriction. I glanced at Emmett, weighing his expression – at first, he was shocked, making me assume there was danger, but then he smiled, rubbing the nape of his neck.

"Futile move, brother," A strand of long blonde hair fell in front of my eyes and I relaxed, realizing then that I was in my sister's clasp. She loosened her hold slightly, but I still could not budge; I felt inept for not expecting her strength, and, moreover, for not sensing her approaching presence. How had I not recognized her perfume?

As soon as I had composed myself, though, I tensed up again. "Emmett, you charlatan," I grimaced, pushing out of Rose's hands. "How would you feel if I brought my wife into play? Would that make it fair? Would that tip the scales enough for you?"

"Whether you had Alice or not," Emmett chuckled gamely. "You'd still lose."

I laughed at the thought of someone losing to Alice. It was tremendously comical, so I had to snicker, "Sure, you can convince yourself of that all you want, but you know that it's lies …"

We were about to go back at again, when, all of a sudden, we were both lying on the forest floor, our faces pressed deep into the dirt. We looked up to see Rosalie rising from her crouch, pulling her leg up so that it was parallel to the other again – she had knocked our balance right out from under us; again, I felt obtuse for not predicting her move.

"How can you two be so dim-witted! Why aren't you preparing? You're idiots!" She scolded heatedly, her jaw tightening. We both scrambled to our feet, straightening our backs so that we stood side-by-side like soldiers at attention. She scoffed, "Here you are, fighting each other, when the real battle is so close at hand!"

I penitently tried to negotiate with her. "We were just playin', Rose. We didn't mean no harm …."

"Yeah," Emmett sneered, contrasting my repentant tone. "We're practicing."

She rubbed her temple, closing her eyes for a brief moment. "I don't want to do this. I don't want a fight – it's the last thing we need right now … but this is my niece, Bella and Edward's flesh and blood …"

Emmett and I impetuously snorted silently at her choice of words.

She eyed us intensely. "We are up against one of the greatest powers in our world, and they overpower and outnumber us! Do you relish the idea of death! … Of course, we all wish death upon ourselves every once in awhile, because it's what we deserve …. But I refuse to let that happen to us now. We can commit suicide all we want later, but little Nessie is so new to life! She ought to have years and years to make something of herself – and I don't want her to think of her family as pathetic, spineless! And, God dammit, if I end up ripping you two to shreds trying to get you to cooperate, then so be it!"

She whipped around, her hair sloshing as she went, and she walked at a painfully human pace back towards the house. We watched her carefully, knowing that everything she had said was a hundred-percent correct, and we stayed taut beside each other, frozen.

As she reached for the backdoor handle, she glanced over her shoulder down the desiccated river's path at us, and whispered, "At ease, soldiers."


A/N: I wanted to push Esme beyond being a static/flat character – she's maternal, she loves everyone, it's her "gift" to be that way, and that's great. But I wanted to give her some dynamics and pull out emotions that not everyone has seen of her before.

Esme's POV

"Carlisle?" I lifted my fist and tapped delicately against the door, apprehensive.

The hallway was painfully empty, with the exception of a lone ray of sunlight and myself. The beam caught my protruding ankle, splashing against my skin and sparkling vibrantly; I had always coupled our reaction to daylight with new hope – or, perhaps, a perpetual hope – one of a divine haven in the afterlife.

There was no hope in me now, though, so I pulled my leg away out of the light.

"Come in, Esme," I heard my husband's voice murmur lowly from the opposite side of the door.

I pushed open the door to his study, leaving the lonely ray without company, and stepped inside the lofty room. I shut the door behind me, not turning to face him immediately; I stood, waiting, despondently facing the wooden door, an expression on my face with which I would face demise.

I heard Carlisle push out from behind his desk and approach me, but I did not reach out him. Instead, I whispered, "I'm going to kill them."

He surprised me by laughing. "Oh, darling, I would enjoy that very much," He wrapped his arms around my waist, and I twisted in his grasp so that my face was buried in his chest. This sort of embracing was our true display of love – a simple embrace. That was all it took for our energy to be emotionally transferred into the lifeless heart of the other.

"Will you be offended if Aro dies?" I uttered inaudibly.

"Offended?" He exhaled, holding me closer. "No. Edward will, most likely, deal with Aro in the fashion which seems fitting, and I agree that that is what must be done. Aro has bitter wills and he inflicts onto others those contemptible fates."

"We will prove to him he is not God."

"No, he most certainly is not a god. Not even close."

The sunlight must have been particularly lonely out in the hallway by itself, so it snuck in through the window and poked Carlisle on the shoulder. It found my cheek nestled in his collar, and it glistened off me once more. I burrowed deeper into Carlisle, until I was overwhelmed in complete blackness.

I paused for a moment before muttering, "Would you kill Aro?"

He thought silently, before asking, "Would you kill Matthew and Blair?"

"No," I answered directly. "Because this ill fortune chose them, and not the other way around."

He chuckled. "Oh, how I admire your innocence, beautiful angel."

I pulled my face out of his shirt. "What little innocence is left, Carlisle?"

"Yours is everlasting," He answered me. "Everyone is born clean, are they not? Does that mean that no one deserves death? I am sure that Aro was sinless once. Long ago, of course, but I'm sure the memory still stands clear."

I said nothing.

"I know some people who are certain to vouch that this life is entirely in ill fortune," In that moment, I was certain that Carlisle was referring to our beautiful, troubled son. "But, in truth, that means nothing. It is what we do with such fortune that decides our fate. Ill, at first, yes, but it can be turned into something idyllic."

Carlisle was the most perfect example.

"Then, yes," I decided.

"Yes?"

"I would kill Matthew and Blair, no matter how much it morally pains me."

He began to play with my hair, wrapping the little ringlets around each of his slim fingers. I could tell by his eyes that he was debating my reply – Carlisle was slow to retort, in every situation. He would never respond without contemplating options and possibilities, and sometimes his contemplation took longer than usual. I had trained myself to wait, after so many decades with him, so that I never grew impatient.

"And your reasoning for such a decision being …?" He asked finally.

"They had the decision to change their fate," I explained myself inaudibly. "We were that decision. In deciding to join our family, they could have shaped a new lifestyle, a lifestyle worth living for … or at least worth existing for. And … they did not choose correctly."

"You believe in second chances, do you not, dear?" He inquired of me.

"Of course," I nodded, adding, "But I do not believe in acrimony."


Emmett's POV

I had been searching for Rose almost fifteen minutes – which was a painfully long time – before I realized that she must have left the house. Along with her, Jasper had mysteriously vanished, and right when our fight was getting good, too.

Hadn't I been the one prompting the action in the first place? But, no, we couldn't be rash. Now, everyone was walking around talking about battles and war …? I swear, these were moments where I felt that, compared to the others, I had no voice in this family – and, last I checked, my voice was loud enough.

At the preceding dawn, Jasper and I had frozen our elaborate game of chess to listen to Alice and Edward upstairs. Of course, there were the likely gaps and hiatuses when their conversation took to thought, but the jist of it was understandable enough: Edward was gung-ho for fighting to the death, for lack of a better term. And – I could not have said it any better than Alice – we would remain by our brother's side to the end.

Besides, I don't think I'd be able to stand seeing him and Bella all morose.

They think I'm rash for wanting to act fast? Maybe they'll think to listen to me next time …. God honestly forbid there be a next time.

The late hours of the night were bounding into the early hours of the morning, the sunrise not that far off. Renesmee had been gone for officially a week now. It felt like ages, millenniums. Much, much longer than one-hundred and sixty-eight hours, at least. And, I suppose, we were just waiting for the perfect moment now. I figured we would collaborate with the wolf pack, unless we all planned on getting grinded to a pulp; and I assumed that the battle would be held on our turf, so we would have to select the perfect ground, give ourselves the perfect advantage in the perfect situation – one where we were sure to win all recompense …

Nothing pumps the adrenaline more than conferring battle strategies – but the confines of my thoughts seemed far less melodramatic than potentially feasible. I needed a guy to talk about ripping and punching with; my testosterone needed that kind of fuel. Since Jasper had split and Carlisle would, in spite of the situation, probably want to condone himself of as much violence as he could, Edward was my only option. And he had more angst bottled up on the subject than the rest of us.

Edward! I called from the inside of my brain. Stop sulking around and get up to the house. I'm in the mood for concocting a game plan. Them Volturi won't know what hit 'em. C'mon, kid, you know you want to!

I counted to ten, waiting for him to rush in through the kitchen door.

One, two, three …

I could just picture it now, pulling Aro down by the hair and ripping his papery scalp off the top of his head, and snapping Jane's tiny body right smack down the middle, decapitating every last one of them, watching the flames lick them all over and know that the flames will lick them where they're headed, too …

Four, five, six …

I noticed for the first time that we were bound on both ends, all of us were. The wolves were in the same boat with us and we were fighting for the same cause. Not like fighting against newborns for Bella's safety, nor for the safety of Forks or contiguous areas, nor to make sure treaties and rules were not broken. Now, we could break all the rules; and it was all for one mutual cause. For Renesmee – daughter, niece, friend …

Seven, eight, nine …

Where the hell was Edward? He should have been up here by now. Maybe I should go down to the cottage and check on him. To make sure he hadn't already attempted impossible suicide on his own. I wondered if he hadn't gone and plummeted himself forever to lie at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean, or gone down to one of the logging rigs and pushed himself through a wood grinder after giving a lumberjack explicit instructions to throw a lighter at him after the fact …

… Ten.

I expected the creak of an opening door, but, instead, I felt a buzz inside my left pocket. I reached in, noticing a text from the man of the hour. 'Busy. Be home soon,' He responded tersely. Busy doing what exactly? Moping? Plotting revenge? Pillaging local homes in place of intoxication, considering the effect, or lack thereof, that drugs had on us?

I considered replying, but, then, I decided against it – since it was evidently inconvenient for him.

Now, I couldn't even have a man to man conversation. There was nothing for me to do but sit, anxious, restless, alone. My only companion would be the television for the next several hours. I could go out and find Jasper's replacement; but wild animals were little of sport when it came to wrestling …. Hey, what was Alice doing sitting on the front porch by herself?

Thank God, I didn't have to suffer through that alone time.

"Hey, sweetheart," I pushed open the front door.

Her back was arched and her eyes were narrowed on the street, as if she were prepared to spring at any moment. Short black strands of her hair stood up in the wind, dancing about the top of her head, as did the ruffles of her darkly colored shirt – I was no Jasper, but Alice's emotions were easy enough to predict by the vivacity of her clothing; apparently, she was just as glum as everyone else was today.

"Whatcha doing?" I wondered, tousling her hair and sitting down beside her on the step.

She refused to break her concentration, but she did not give up an easy conversation. "Well, if you haven't also noticed," she explained to me, allowing only her lips to move with the words; otherwise, she was completely still. "Edward left promptly before sundown the night before last and this evening. If I have learned anything about habitual patterns, I know for a fact that this is the initiation of a very peculiar routine. And, from the way he was trying to elude looking me straight in the eyes yesterday, I can tell he must be up to no good. And we all know Edward – he is terrible at keeping secrets from us … well, from me …. It's just so maddening."

Her rant required a designated time for breathing if she planned to continue on, so I decided to take advantage of her inhalation to ask, "Well, have you seen anything?"

"Nothing," She sounded almost ashamed at admitting this. "He's trying to evade me. It's alright for him to dig through everyone's minds, but, when the situation is reversed on him, he's a close door."

"Now you know how the rest of us feel," I sighed, staring out onto the road just as she did. I leaned back on my elbows, closing my eyes for a moment, whereas she kept her position ardent and focused.

"Sorry," she mumbled apologetically, then she added, "I just don't like feeling blind."

Opening my eyes, I smirked, "I know you're not used to switching mindsets after eighty or so years of thinking the same way, but maybe you should take to thinking like the rest of us have to for a second."

She turned to face me, her eyes wide. "How do I do that?" She seemed astounded by the prospect of abandoning her third eye for even a moment.

"Use your brain – or, moreover, your gut, I guess – over your eyes. Use instinct."

She at least considered the idea before shooting it down. I appreciated that. "I can't retreat to instinct like you can. I need insight."

And, immediately, she was back to her surveillance of the asphalt.

"Let me do it, then," I sighed with a tired smile. "Your mistake is that you think too much. Let's reduce everything down to the basics – what we're given: you can't see him. So, that must mean he is either doing something he's not supposed to and purposefully remaining indecisive …"

Her eyes were back to me in a flash.

"Or he's with a wolf," I concluded, adding as an afterthought, "Maybe both."

"Why did I not think about that before?" she admonished herself, clapping her palm against her forehead.

"You were too busy concentrating on the asphalt and thinking the wrong thoughts. I'm telling ya' – you think too hard."

"What do you think he'd be doing with one of the pack?" She asked, pulling her knees up to her chest and her eyes brightening excitedly. Ugh, had I just inadvertently involved myself in the heat of girly gossip? That's what it looked like. "Ooh, do you think he's spying on Bella?"

She bit her lip, looking up at the sky as if she were racking her brain.

"No, Bella is as good as alone," She exhaled finally. "Besides, she would have sensed that Edward was nearby and chased him away. She's really antsy – I can tell she's happy to see her dad, but I think she's realizing that she should be with her husband right now. That's what Renesmee would want."

There was a long, uncomfortable space hanging in the air.

"Why are you out here?" She wondered.

"What?" I sniggered. "I can't spend time with my favorite psychic?"

"Well, normally, you'd be with Rose," She reclined too, stretching out her short legs and matching my sprawled out position on the steps. "It's not sunrise yet. There's still a chance for you to squeeze in a romantic moonlit love affair."

"Naw," I fanned the air toward her, sighing. "She's all pouty, right now. And pouty is good, normally, unless its something she's really upset about. I've never seen her so depressed for so long. It's been a whole week, already."

"You're not upset about Renesmee, too?" She asked. I would've thought her tone would have implied I was insensitive, but she was honestly curious.

"I'm worried about her, yeah," I replied. "But I'm not upset about the whole situation. We'll pull through – like we always do. Besides, if everyone starts getting all serious and grim, there's no way we'll win. I'm trying to keep as buoyant as the situation allows."

She paused a moment. "That's a good philosophy."

"We should get Edward thinking the same way," I inhaled the fresh air that came with clean, invisible dew. "He needs some lightening up."

Alice loved planning, or so I'd learned over my many lifetimes with her, and, at my words, she got keyed up. "Here's the arrangement. We'll keep quiet for now, so that Edward can feel all high and mighty for keeping his secret thus long …"

I lifted a brow. "And … what's his secret again?"

"Duh, the wolves," She scooted closer to me, nearly dwarfed in my shadow. "But then we'll join up with him. He'll appreciate the teamwork where it counts, whether he's just spying on Bella or not, and we need some family power ASAP."

I looked away from her.

"What do you think? Are you in?"

I chuckled under my breath, "Family power?"

She extended out her pinky. "C'mon, it's you and me, Em."

I wrapped my pinky finger around hers. "Secret agents."

Alice giggled, but then she straightened out her spine, her eyes widening like a deer caught in headlights. "He's coming. Don't think about anything."

No sooner had she said the words did I hear the low hum of the Volvo not even half a mile away. He was coming from the north – yup, definitely from Quileute territory. I hadn't really concerned myself with purging my thoughts until I saw him pulling up. He was tense, but there was some sort of newfound exhilaration in his eyes – my theory was confirmed: he was doing something he knew wasn't supposed to and he loved it.

He was distracted as he hurriedly punched it into park and headed up the steps, ignoring us. As he passed us, Alice spoke inattentively, without any real grounds for conversation being verbally constructed yet. "Carlisle's upstairs. But leave him to Esme. They need the time to sort out their thoughts together."

"It's urgent," Edward muttered quickly. "But, thank you, Alice."

Alice glanced at me now that our brother's back was turned. "Drowning in your thoughts again, Edward?"

He had been making a swift move for the door when he paused, looking down at the grain in the paneled wooden porch. He swallowed gently before admitting, "All night."

Just by the tone in his voice I could tell there was something he was hiding, something behind the words. And I didn't have to be a mind reader or a soothsayer to figure that much out. I had heard the crippled, elusive bite to his words before – not since he'd first developed his fascination for Bella, but the evidence still stood. Only, there was another side to his voice that I had heard before, too; something I had heard in my own voice – a certain air of thriving masculinity, a definite freedom that came with doing something, doing anything, without the constriction authority or a higher power. And there was only one person in the world that had power over Edward …

I laughed to myself. Not only was he doing something he wasn't supposed to, he was doing something behind Bella's back – I was honestly shocked.

Since deceiving his wife was new territory for the kid, Alice and I wouldn't have a very hard time wringing him dry. Our plan would be executed perfectly …

My thoughts were interrupted by the incredulous, almost amused voice of Edward. His back was still away from me, but I knew the expression he was making all too well; I'd made Alice's mistake – I thought too much.

"What was that, Emmett?" He turned to face me.

I caught my tongue. Alice wanted to cut it off. "I didn't say anything."

Edward turned on his heel, his lips curving into a wily grin. "But you thought it."

Oh, the things Edward must know about everyone, about me. I should've known better. I struggled for a reply.

Alice saved me. "We were just talking about Bella. She's considered coming back more than once."

She was good. Bring up Edward's one pitfall. He was putty in our hands.

Then again, I wasn't sure if that was a lie or not.

His face fell momentarily, but then his devious smile returned as his eyes shifted to me. "Is that really what you were talking about, Emmett? Be honest, now."

I panicked. Turning to the first thing I saw, I thought, Trees, trees, trees, trees …

"Trees?" Edward's eyebrows puckered together. "Hmm, normally, if someone is trying to evade me, I hear 'dead puppies' or useless rambling about the weather. But—trees, that's a new one." He stood and turned away, back to the front door.

I glanced at Alice, and she shrugged, knowing that now was as good a time as any other. Her eyes softened as she whispered, "We know you're hanging out with the wolves."

Basically confessing, he sighed, "Can you smell it on me?"

I smelt it, alright, but it wasn't coming from his direction. I tilted my head in the direction of the scent, realizing then where it originated at. "No, but the car reeks of it."

Edward grimaced, "The car. I forgot about the car."

"Smells like Jacob," Alice pointed out. I wouldn't have been able to figure which wolf it was. Alice must've taken a strong liking to Jacob while he was an inpatient in Carlisle's study.

He turned, coming clean to us now. "We figured, since we were both involuntarily opted out, we were stronger together than we were wallowing alone. We're not doing anything rash" – rash, there was that word again; I assumed being rash was necessary more than anything else right now – "but we enjoy each other's company." Edward paused to laugh quietly. "I have more in common with the boy than I first imagined possible."

"It's great that you've bonded," Alice turned, her stomach flat on the stairs, and rubbed her fingers subconsciously along the floor as she stared up at him. "We can help you, too, Edward. You're right. We're all stronger together than we are alone …"

He interrupted her curtly, "It's not that, Alice. It's … you wouldn't understand."

It was then that I discovered we weren't telling him what he wanted to here. Less sentimental talk, more hardcore action. "How about that game plan, Eddie Boy?"

I knew he didn't like the nickname, but it made him laugh, at least.

Hadn't seen the kid smile like that in too long, not since the kidnap.

His laugh dissipated as he stared out at the rising sun. Another sunrise, I thought. More time wasted. We'll get her soon, though. I can feel it in my bones. She's close in our reach – it's like she never left. I hadn't said the words for Edward's benefit, and I could tell he knew that, but he nodded in silent agreement, nonetheless.

"Edward?" I prompted.

He turned to face me, newborn assurance in his eyes. "What did you have in mind?"

Question: I reviewed the guidelines, but it doesn't specify this. Can I upload a fictional story based off Twilight just with a whole new set of characters? Otherwise, can I add my own character and change up the context, but with the same setting and same personalities/characters? Just curious.