Author's Note: Okay, here we go…

Chapter 38: In Love We Trust

I stared at the fire for what must have been hours. When I finally looked up again the sun had disappeared beyond the mountains out the window. I think Tanya had been trying to comfort me in some small way or another, but I couldn't be sure. I couldn't really be sure of anything anymore.

I sat on the couch with my arms crossed tightly over my chest – a stance I never thought (or prayed) I would need ever again. All too suddenly I felt vulnerable. Too vulnerable. Like I could shatter into a million tiny, jagged pieces at any given moment. It was a feeling I never thought vampires of all things were capable of. They had always seemed so indestructible to me. So impossibly strong.

Edward was gone. Gone. I had to silently repeat this to myself a thousand times over in my head before I was really able to believe it. Gone. Gone. As in, no longer there. No longer there for me to hold or kiss or talk to. Gone. The agony that coursed through me when I considered this notion was…unspeakable. For a while I entertained the atrocious idea that, if he hadn't promised so profoundly to return, I might already be on my way to Italy myself. If anything happened to him…

Then of course, I knew I was just being selfish. Alice needed him. I'd been a 'primary witness' – as Charlie would have put it – to the connection between Edward and his sister and I couldn't deny that it was certainly one of the strongest I'd ever seen. Close to the way Jacob communicated with the rest of his pack – openly, with no secrets and only the purest of affection for one another. Jacob…

It was difficult not to think of him too. Though he didn't deserve it…maybe that was it. Perhaps I'd finally gotten to the point of hating him so immensely that it was dominating my thought process. I wasn't entirely certain what I could do about any of it, but if there was one thing I was sure of, it was that I wasn't entirely opposed to the idea of tearing the dog to shreds. God forbid that I ever cross paths with him again…Heaven only knew what I might be capable of doing…

I pushed my thoughts back to Alice. Dear Alice. Where was she? There had to be an explanation for her disappearance, I was sure. I only hoped it wasn't the one we were all afraid of. If anyone could find her, I consoled myself with my musings, it was Edward. He not only knew how she smelled and moved, but also how she thought. He would figure this whole thing out for us, I promised myself silently as I watched the red-orange flames in Tanya's open fireplace dance across the logs, crackling and popping every so often with a spray of dazzling sparks. He had to.

There was a heavy impact on the cushion next to me, startling me from my musings as I bounced a little on the springs.

Emmett's playful, ochre eyes fell on mine as I turned to look at him.

"You okay?" He asked in a voice so tender and caring that I almost didn't recognize it as his own. It was so…brotherly. Still, I couldn't bring myself to say more than I had to in response.

I nodded stiffly. "Yeah," I whispered, returning my gaze to the fire. It wasn't true of course, but it hurt so much…everything hurt so much. I simply wasn't in the mood to dignify it by talking about it.

As expected, Emmett's thick, bushy eyebrows knitted together in obvious skepticism. "Really?"

I heaved a heavy sigh, finally turning my eyes back to his. Before I could stop myself, before I was even aware of what was happening, everything was flooding out in one, long, hideous rant. And I wasn't up to the challenge of stopping it. "Well, how could I be, Emmett!?" I exclaimed, my voice suddenly doubling in volume. "Could you be? I had to go through several, painfully long months of missing your stupid brother once before and I know it's selfish, but I can't shake the idea that it's all happening all over again!" My voice started to break. "I just got your family and now I feel like I'm losing it already, piece by piece. First Alice, then Esme and Carlisle and now Edward! I can't take it anymore! And now I don't know if I'll ever see him again…"

My voice trailed off as the ripping sobs finally made it impossible to speak. I didn't care that I had blown up on Emmett not too differently than a waiting volcano might. I wasn't looking at him now, but I was sure that if I was his expression would have been something to behold to say the least. I'd probably horrified him into never wanting to speak to me again.

But then something happened that astonished me to my very core. Two, impossibly huge arms encircled my shoulders, pulling me into one strong, burly chest, where I buried my face and heaved heavy, tearless sobs, never planning to pull away again.

That brotherly voice broke through again, just above my ridiculous racket. "No, Bella," he protested calmly, the timbre in his voice impossibly caring. "Bella, no, you can't believe that. Shh." One of his dinner-plate sized hands traced the length of my spine, caressing my back gently in a hopeless attempt to quiet my blubbering. "Shh," he repeated just barely above a whisper now. "Shh. It's okay. Everything's going to be fine, you'll see."

Suddenly my face was looking up at his again, severely cynical. "How?" I demanded, challenging his reassurance with a good hard look at the facts. Alice had been kidnapped – how, I wasn't entirely sure – and was now missing, Esme was…dead – the thought still repulsed me immensely so, Jasper and Carlisle were both virtually gone themselves and now Edward…loving, passionate, attentive Edward…had been lost to the mayhem as well. It was too much. Far too much for any family to come back from, wasn't it? How could anything that was so intensely devastated ever bounce back and regenerate itself? Was it even possible? It certainly didn't seem like it…

"Bella," Emmett's low voice took a more sober turn, "did you really mean everything you said out there today?" He nodded in the direction of the front porch. "That we'll always be a family? No matter what?"

I stared back at him for a long moment, unblinking, trying my hardest to see what he was getting at. "Of course…" I finally replied, the words coming out outlandishly slowly.

Triumph darted across Emmett's liquid-gold eyes. "Well then that's how," he stated simply, as though the answer should have been childishly obvious. "We'll just stay a family." He shrugged. "Easy. As long as we do that, you can't ever lose sight of us."

Finally, I blinked. I felt one corner of my mouth curve upwards in what could have passed for the tiniest hint of a smile. "You make it sound so simple," I remarked somewhat bluntly, considering the concept for a long minute.

Emmett beamed. It was blinding. "Maybe it's simpler than you think," he reasoned in a voice that was too quiet for him. "A lot of things are, you know."

I took another long, silent moment to let his words sink in, pondering them to the point where they didn't really make a lot of sense anymore. Eventually my head produced a dull throb from the profound thought process that only seemed to be going in pointless circles, never truly reaching a conclusion. I had to wonder for a moment if vampires were capable of getting head aches. I didn't think so. Head ache's required blood in the brain, didn't they? Then again, I supposed I still had to have some blood in my brain. It would be another several months before that faded away with everything else. And I had to think somehow, didn't I? Or did vampires need blood to think? Could they just use their venom instead? Suddenly it was this matter that was giving me a headache.

My exasperated sigh was what broke the silence as I dropped my head back onto Emmett's heavily-muscled chest, letting it thump carelessly into the groove between his head and his shoulder, closing my eyes against the cold skin of his neck. "Thanks anyway," I murmured against his skin, breathing in his sweet scent as I did so and trying to imagine that it was Edward's. I couldn't though. It was too…musky.

I let my head shake with the shudder of his shoulders then as he laughed, not at all amused myself. "Couldn't quite live up to Edward's standards, could I?" He chuckled good-naturedly as I felt him rest his cheek against the top of my head.

I didn't answer. Thinking about Edward now hurt more than I thought it would. It surprised me that, even though I knew I would be seeing him again soon enough, the feeling wasn't all that different from the anguish that had gripped me before, when he'd left me the first time. Still, I decided I wasn't going to allow that sort of…remission to happen to me again. I wasn't going to block out all thoughts of him simply because it pained me to consider them. I'd learned from experience that it would only hurt me more to disallow any thoughts of him at all. I was like a rat, learning to stay in the middle of its cage by being shocked by the wires around the outside too many times. And I would stay in the middle, alone and forgotten until someone's kind hand came and lifted me out again.

"I just love him so much," I whispered, my voice agonized against Emmett's neck. I felt his hold tighten around my shoulders.

"I know," his low voice sounded booming even in the smallest of volumes. "And he loves you too. More than you know. He would never do this to you if it wasn't for one of us…or all of us, in this case."

I forced out a meager nod. "I know," I somehow managed to croak. "I know." I pulled myself up into a more formal position again then, feeling as though I was beginning to get a proper hold on myself once more. "And at least I have you guys with me this time," I reasoned more to myself than to Emmett as I returned my eyes to the fireplace, letting them settle into place again with no intent whatsoever to shift anymore. "Losing you and Alice and Jasper and Rosalie and Carlisle and Esme along with Edward was one of the hardest things about it all. At least now I know I'm not alone."

From the corner of my eye I caught Emmett's slow nod. He turned his head slightly, glancing in the direction of the staircase where I knew Jasper was sitting just out of earshot. "No," he agreed solemnly. "You're not alone."

I thought about this for a long minute. I was quite lucky, actually, I finally decided. Despite everything, somehow I was still alive. Somehow Edward and I were still together…in a way. I still had the family I'd always so desperately longed for and better than anything else, I was part of it. If anything, there was really more good in all of this than bad. I was being a pessimist.

I wondered briefly where Jacob and the pack had gotten to. They certainly weren't here. And as long as Tanya hung around, they never would be. But Edward was out there. Vulnerable. Alone. With no protection whatsoever, save for Carlisle of course. He may have had four hundred years worth of experience under his belt, but could he take on a six-pack of werewolves? I almost laughed at my own terminology. It wasn't funny at all of course. A six-pack was what they were. Six, massive, vicious canines with fangs and claws designed specifically for tearing our species to shreds. I shuddered despite the heat that was radiating off of the fire.

Were there still six of them? As this thought suddenly entered my mind, I felt I had to ask…for reasons that were unfathomable even to me. "Emmett?" I questioned suddenly, my voice alight with curiosity.

He raised his eyebrows, although didn't look away from the fire. "Hmm?"

"Which of the wolves did you shoot? The night that Esme…" I didn't finish the explanation. I felt guilty enough as it was for even asking the question.

Emmett's eyes turned on me all too suddenly, and I wondered momentarily if it truly was betrayal that I'd caught flashing across them for the briefest of seconds. "Why?" He demanded, not masking his irritation at all well.

Hastily, I rearranged my features, desperate to make this appear as innocent as possible. "Well," I regrouped, considering my words thoroughly before I let them roll off my tongue, "I spent a lot of time with them and –"

"Yes?" Emmett's tone was piercing.

"And I was just wondering for…strategic purposes. I mean, I know which ones are weaker and which are smarter and swifter and such. Maybe it could help if I knew." Nice. Very nice. I'd handled that surprisingly smoothly, I decided with silent self-congratulations. I wasn't entirely sure my true reasoning for asking myself, but I did want to know. And I was going to get an answer out of him one way or the other.

Still, Emmett didn't look entirely convinced. He eyed me suspiciously for a long moment before he answered, finally seeming to decide that I was being truthful enough. "The brown one," he told me hesitantly.

I froze, trying to regain control of my expression before it betrayed me. Easy, I told myself quietly. I had to make this next part sound credible or it would give me away. "Brown?" I repeated, trying harder than reason to control the trembling in my voice. "Are you sure?"

Emmett nodded, satisfied. "Yup," he replied, a challenge in his tone. "Which one is that?"

I tried to look nonchalant, pretending to think for a long moment before I answered. "Uh…let's see," I lowered my eyes to the couch cushion beneath us, thoughtful. "There are a few brown ones. Which one did you shoot?" My eyes darted back up to his, focusing hard on repressing their anticipation.

Emmett looked thoughtful too, only his seemed genuine. "Um, the darker one I think."

I looked at him seriously. "Darker?" I repeated. "Are you sure?"

Emmett was unbearably silent again, as though he was aware of how much he was torturing me and he was enjoying it. "Yes," he said finally. "I remember now. I was aiming for the more reddish one and missed. I caught the darker one in the flank."

Finally, I let out the breath I hadn't even been aware I'd been holding in one louder-than-intended whoosh and collapsed back onto the couch frame, resting my head against the back cushion. "Okay, that's Jared," I confirmed more to myself than anyone as I went back to staring at the fire.

Emmett shrugged indifferently, as though he hadn't even noticed my relief. "Not that it matters much," he muttered in a discrete tone of correction. "He's probably fine by now anyway. It didn't look like a killing blow. Damn weapons. I knew we should have just used what God gave us in the first place." He flashed me two rows of brilliantly white teeth.

I had to frown though despite his seemingly indestructible humor. I shook my head somewhat cynically and sighed. "God," I breathed airily, repeating the word as though it were a curse. "Do you seriously think God would ever want anything to do with us?"

Emmett elbowed me meaningfully, his eyes trained solely on my face once more. "Hey," he said suddenly, his voice accusing, "what happened to all that good faith you had earlier today?" His eyes scrutinized my face, searching for that spark of life he so often found there.

I sighed, the outlook of my reply dismal. "It left with my fiancé."

Neither of us said a word after that. Emmett fell silent, his eyes following the playful waltz of the flames as they licked at the wood in Tanya's fireplace. I was reminded of 'the catalyst' as I watched them. I thought of the night – just last night, in fact – that seemed so achingly long ago now. The night Esme and I had sat here, not so different from the way Emmett and I were sitting here ourselves now, discussing recent events and the reasons that things happened.

"But don't you see?" She'd said to me that night by the fire. "All of that was supposed to happen. If any of that hadn't occurred, I would have never gotten to where I am now. I would have never met Carlisle…or Edward…or any of them. I wouldn't even be alive." I visibly cringed at the memory. Esme was so wonderful. She really, sincerely thought that there was a purpose to everything. And I'd believed her…for a time. Now it was a concept that raised a frame of debate in my opinion. What could possibly be the reason for this?

Esme. Dying. Could there really be a purpose to that? I couldn't imagine so. Even if Edward did find Alice, couldn't that have eventually happened anyway? Without anyone getting hurt? Without this family being torn to shreds as she had? I cringed again. Wrong concept to think about.

I thought of Carlisle. Poor, lonely, compassionate Carlisle. He didn't deserve this. He'd tried so hard all of his life. He'd worked with such strength of will and determination that he'd set an example for all young ones like himself around the world, whether he realized it or not. He'd set an example for Esme and his children. For me. He was too good for something like this to happen to him. What was the point? What good could possibly come of such a tragic thing?

All at once I was angry with God. Hadn't Edward and I had enough of a run of bad fortune as it was? Did it really have to spread to the rest of the family? I didn't get it. What had we done wrong? Every one of the Cullens had assured me at one point or another that none of this was my fault, but if it wasn't, then whose was it? God was the only answer I could come up with.

Too abruptly, I sprung from the couch, upset beyond repair at least for the night. I'd had enough of this. I didn't know what I planned to do about it. I supposed there was nothing I could do. I couldn't even escape it by going to bed. Another one of God's cruel little ideas, I presumed. Of course. Why did it have to be enough to damn these innocent people to an eternal curse? Why not make it unbearably hard to evade as well?

Fuming, I left the room. I wished Carlisle were here. Not the current, down-trodden, broken Carlisle. The old one. The Carlisle who I could sit and converse with in a civil, respectable manner. The one who would tell me that everything had its place in life. That God knew what he was doing and had a kind and loving outcome for us all. That even we, the most damned and despised of them all had some good coming our way. I missed that Carlisle. Missed him more dearly than any of my lost and disappearing family members. If I couldn't have him now to talk to, I just wanted to be alone.

Upon reaching the base of the enormous, spiral staircase, I noted that Jasper was still there, seated a few steps up, his head in his hands. It seemed this was a position I'd witnessed on a lot of us lately. It was a position of the deepest kind of despair. The kind you simply couldn't find a way out of until it was all over. Trouble was, it didn't look as though it was going to be over any time soon.

I intended to pass him and continue on up the stairs, but for some unknown reason I didn't. Again, that stupid reason. I stopped, turning back two steps up from him. I didn't know if he was aware of my pause, but frankly I didn't care. I stood there for a long moment, staring at him, deliberating. Poor, poor Jasper. He'd been through so much already. Probably more so than any of us. And we'd pretty much ignored him the entirety of the time. He hadn't gotten the chance to talk to anyone like I had. He hadn't even had the chance to raise his spirits. No one had paid any attention to him at all. He'd lost his wife and now his mother… perhaps I could just sit with him for a little while.

Suddenly feeling very selfish, I stepped down onto the stair just above the one he was seated on. I thought about sitting next to him for a long moment but finally decided I would rather stand. I didn't know how he was feeling at the moment. I couldn't even imagine it. So I decided it was best not to pretend I was even remotely on the same level.

I leaned the small of my back against the old banister, crossing one ankle over the other in as nonchalant a manner as I could manage. Shaking my head, I laughed darkly to us both. "Are we one messed up pair or what?" I breathed without humor. It probably would have been funny had it not been so true.

Jasper dropped his hands from his face, but kept his eyes down while he spoke, not bothering to look up at me in the least. "Both missing our other halves," he agreed in a voice barely audible, but still loud enough for my keen ears to pick up. "Both wondering if any of it is worth it."

I found myself nodding before I'd even truly heard his words. "I haven't been around nearly as long as you," I reminded him after a moment. "So I guess I'm entitled. But I'd think you would be able to find something good in all of this after all you've seen." I didn't bother to hold back my words. They were more honest than I'd ever thought I could be at a time like this.

Finally, Jasper's dark eyes rose to meet mine. "Do you really think I can?" He questioned suddenly. "Or do you just wish I could?" His eyes lingered on my face for a too-long minute, forcing out the more truthful answer.

"I kind of wish you could," I admitted frankly, no longer afraid of being entirely candid with what had become my pain-brother.

But Jasper merely shrugged minutely and returned to his former pitiful stance. "Sorry to disappoint," he murmured without looking up. "Esme was always really good at the life-is-good, everything's-going-to-be-okay chats." He paused. "And Esme's not here."

I nodded again, more slowly this time. "I know," was all I could think of to say for a moment. Then, in a lighter voice, "but we're still a family, right?"

Jasper's head angled upward ever so slowly to look at me. I continued.

"I mean, we're still together…for the most part. And that's gotta count for something, doesn't it?"

Jasper blinked at me twice, his expression stone for the longest of seconds. I counted to twenty in my head, but still, it hadn't changed. In the light of the stairwell I was beginning to see my new brother for what he was, or at least for what he saw himself as: nothing. A mere monster without Alice around to dignify his existence. Without her he felt he had no reason to be alive. That he didn't deserve it. With her, he didn't feel he did deserve it of course, but at least it gave him a reason to see the sun up every day. I felt the unworthiness as he felt it himself. It was what he was best at; conveying his emotions. I sensed it in his mood and I saw it in his memories. Without her he felt he might as well be dead.

I sat down on the steps next to him when he said nothing. He removed his eyes from my face, studying the royal-red carpet of the foyer. "You know, Jasper," I started again…slowly, "when Edward and I spent those long and…excruciating months apart, I felt like…like I wasn't really living anymore." I paused, thinking back to that painful time I'd worked so hard on forgetting. "Like I was just this lifeless…thing that went through the motions every day just for the best of other people and not at all for myself. Truth be told if I was acting solely for myself, I would have slit my wrists within the first two months – don't tell Edward, he'd have a fit," I added pointedly before I pressed on. "But…then I started to think…maybe, just maybe, if I knew Edward was still alive, that he still existed somewhere in the world, even if it was without me, then maybe life really was good enough to live you know?"

Jasper was staring at me again, his eyes listening as intently as his ears. I waited while I gave the words a chance to sink in. Finally, he responded with the smallest of nods. "I do know, Bella," he replied quietly. "The only reason I'm still here is because I know that there's a chance she's still alive…somewhere. It's a small chance, but it's there. And that's enough for me…It's just…" he continued before I could open my mouth again. "…it's like there's this…I don't know…hole. This hole inside of me where she used to be. Where I used to be. Like my heart's been ripped right out and all that's left is the pain…"

Suddenly, for reasons even I couldn't understand…I was smiling. I knew exactly what he was talking about. Every word down to a tee. I understood all of it. I'd been through all of it. The gaping hole with edges so tender and bloody that it hurt to touch them in the slightest. A word. A name. Just an idea could send you reeling for salvation. But you could never find it…no matter how hard you looked.

"Jasper, I know the hole you're talking about," I assured him suddenly, masking my smile so he would take me seriously enough to listen to. After all, I knew only I had the answer he was looking for and I wanted to give it to him more than anything. It had certainly helped me. Hell, it had even made me smile.

"That hole that hurts so badly you just want it to kill you and get it over with?" I confirmed. He nodded, eager now to hear what advice I had to give him. "Well, there's only one thing I know that can fill a hole like that." I paused, my eyes boring into his. "It's love," I told him. "Love is…love is a reference for life that even we are privileged enough to have." I saw his indignant expression and pressed on before he could interrupt. "If you love Alice enough to feel that hole when she leaves, then you can channel that love into it. And if you fill the hole with that, then I promise, there'll be no room for the pain."

Jasper stared at me, a revelation alight in his eyes like I had never seen. I knew I had just given him the answer he was looking for, and it seemed I had just given it to myself as well. It all made sense now. God. Death. Loneliness. Everything. Love. That was the answer. I was right in what I said: as long as I had love, there would be no room for the pain. All at once, I knew what I needed to do. What I needed to see to keep me going. But I had to do it now before the pain returned and I forgot my reasoning for it.

"You'll see Alice soon, Jasper." My voice held the seal of a promise as I covered one of his hands with my own. "One way or another."

I thought I saw a hint of a smile cross his lips for the briefest of moments and I knew my job here was done. Jasper would still be angry and lonely and upset of course, just as we all were, but I hoped that in some small way, I was able to bring him a bit of peace.

I stood up again, my own personal mission in mind now. "I'm going upstairs," I informed him briefly before I turned and strode in a determined manner up the steps. I knew exactly where I was going now and who I was going to find. There was still one thing I needed to do before I could be totally at peace myself. And there was only one person who could give it to me.