Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight, or anything to do with it, however the OC's are all my own. The concept of Jasper being the 'God of War' is something that I've read in a few fics, but I don't know where it originates, so I'm sorry for not giving credit where credit's due! Plus, I have no idea what Louisiana, or Wisconsin are like - I'm from England, so please, forgive any mistakes. Have a great day, and I love you guys!

TRIGGER WARNING TRIGGER WARNINGS TRIGGER WARNINGS

Camilla POV

November 2020

Madison, Wisconsin

He pulled up in my driveway, silent as night itself, in Edward's silver Volvo, and, as eager and as nervous as I was, I ended up waiting outside on the front steps, instead of in the safe confines of my living room. I walked over to the car, and as he pushed open the door, I slipped inside of the vehicle, the warmth that was radiating from the heaters made my skin blush, inadvertently.

"Hey, Darlin'."

He was just as perfect as he had been the last time I had seen him. It kind of hurt to look at him, sometimes. The illumination of the moonlight shadowed his sharp, angular features, and I felt my heart clench in my chest. I replied, "Hey, Jasper."

He smirked, "People I like tend to call me Jas, it's easier than sayin' Jasper all of the time."

Biting my lip, I repeated, breathlessly, "Jas.." and jerked, stunned into silence, as he pulled the Volvo out of the driveway, roughly.

The drive was slow, the atmosphere in the small, confined space becoming increasingly more intense and stiff as the moments trickled by, and I found myself chewing on my bottom lip in pure nerves. He groaned, suddenly, and exclaimed, "Stop doin' that!," causing me to turn to him, eyes wide and confusion painting my features. His eyes were heavy and focused on the road in front of him, his grip on the wheel tightening, fractionally, until his knuckles bled an ashen white. I stammered, "W-What are you talkin' about, Jas?"

His muscles coiled and tight, his eyes sharp and trained on my mouth as he exclaimed, exasperated, "Your lip, your fuckin' lip, its so fuckin' distractin', sugar."

"I'm sorry.." I apologised, diminutively, my eyes falling to the floor in embarrassment, and he made a huffing noise in the back of his throat, before frowning, deeply. He turned the car into a shallow, private opening in the foliage, and stepped out of the vehicle, grumpily. I followed behind him, distraught over the possibility that I might have just pissed him off, my eyes wide and my lip permanently drawn between my teeth.

"C'mere," Jas ordered, and I complied, immediately, feeling the natural dominance in his tone move my body without my consciousness even realising what I was doing. He grasped my hand, his fingers colder than I had ever felt them, and I winced at the difference in temperature. He led me through the forest, helping me, patiently, over annoyingly tangling vines, protruding roots and covertly placed stumps. He chuckled as I stumbled, but didn't dwell on my embarrassment, thankfully, and helped me along, with a patient gleam in his eye. He laughed, his eyes crinkling as he did, and he murmured, affably, "You really wouldn't survive campin', would yah, Darlin'?"

I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest, and whined, childishly, "I'm perfectly fine!"

He laughed, and indicted that I should walk alone, and, of course, I nearly fell flat on my face. I braced myself to feel the stinging sensation on my flat palms and the side of my face as I ricocheted off of the dry, hard ground, however what I didn't expect was to feel cool, strong hands grasping around my waist, and keeping me in place - strong and safe, making me feel at home and in danger all at the same time. He cried, "Watch yourself, sugar, you could really get hurt, Darlin'."

He checked me over, to make sure I was okay, his hands running over my body in the most innocently sensual of ways possible. His face was pressed against the notch of my neck, and I was able to wind my fingers through his hair, tugging slightly, and I felt him inhale, deeply, truly feeling taken care of and wholly safe. He sighed as he pulled away, his lips only a few inches away from my own, "You're drivin' me nuts, Darlin', I swear."

"I'm sorry.."

"Don't apologise, gorgeous," he shrugged, fractionally, "You cant help how I feel."

He looked past my head, then, and glanced around the brush, with a small smile on his face, and said, "C'mere, jus' a few more steps an' we'll be there, Darlin'."

I could hear the sound of heavy rushing water, and I felt my stomach calm at the refreshing, familiar sound. He grasped one of my hands, tightly in his own, his other on the small of my back, leading me towards wherever-in-the-hell he was taking me. The sense of anticipation was enough to make a juddering grin make its way onto my face, and he seemed to feed off of my excitement, and returned with his own. We broke through the foliage line. Jasper brushed a low-hanging heavy branch from my face, and nudged me out into the now-open space with a small press of his hand against the small of my back.

We were standing atop of a fairly shallow waterfall; it was a conglomeration both smooth and jagged rocks, inviting and dangerous at the same time. I could see wooden, worn platforms dotted around the shore of the lake, where people have come for a leisure filled day of fishing, or sunbathing. The water was an inviting, sea green, poised and gentle, strong, and filled with life.

Tilting my head to the side, I asked, quietly, the motions of the water fascinating me for mere moments, "Where are we?"

Jasper's hands wound around my waist, and he whispered, his voice low, as if he didn't want to disturb nature as it went about its course around us, "Lake Mendota."

A flock of dark-winged birds shot across the skyline, making me blink as they shadowed my vision, if only for a moment, and the silence that followed was gaping, and obvious. I mumbled, dumbly, "Oh. It's beautiful."

He breathed out a laugh, and simply replied, his charm in full, "Ain't it, though?"

Jasper led me to the edge of the bank, just besides the shallow rivulet of salt-water, leading to God knows where, and if I craned my neck, I could probably find myself overlooking the rolling hills, the mossy, tall trees, the wildlife, the forestry, and sat down, just before the water and damp, mossy earth met, and sat down, knees bent, slightly, and reclined on a large boulder. Awkwardly, I went to sit opposite him, however he wasn't having it, and pulled me to sit in his lap. I had to shuffle to get comfortable, drawing a low moan from him in return, and I grinned, mischievously, up at him, my hand clenched the material of his tight, long-sleeved shirt in my hands. He had on a leather jacket - oh sweet Jesus - and I thought I was going to die an excruciatingly slow, agonizing, lust-addled death.

I felt like we were in our own bubble; nothing bothered us while we were together. We didn't even say anything to one another for a while; he just ran his fingers over the features of my face, adoration shining in his eyes, and I felt myself fall further and further in lust with this man.

I couldn't say love.

I didn't know him well enough for that.

The last time I had 'fallen in love', the consequences were dire, and I couldn't go through that again.

"What's wrong, Darlin'? You look a little stressed out," he asked, his brows furrowing in confusion, and I shrugged it off, pushing a smile onto my face, and tucked my face further into his neck, and pressed a chaste kiss onto the expanse of skin there. He tightened his hold on my hips, and said, "Stop.. We need to talk, right?"

Sighing, I responded, dejectedly, "I guess so.."

He laughed, and sat up, squaring his shoulders, and glanced out over the waterfall, with a gentle light in his eyes. Even though it wasn't relevant, I felt that I had to ask, "How did you find this place?"

The expression that was brought onto his face was melancholy at best, and he replied, "We move around a lot.. So I have somethin' like this everywhere that I've been. It's somewhere that I can think.. Where I can jus' relax an' be me, you know?"

Smiling at how sincere he was, and I tucked myself further into his body, and I asked, "Where were you born?"

I felt him look down at me, questioningly, and, without meeting his gaze, I elaborated, my eyes fixing on the lapel of his jacket, my fingers drawing indiscernible shapes just to keep my hands busy, "I jus' wanna get to know you, is all."

He smiled, and replied, "Well.. Awright. I was born in Houston, Texas, so I guess we share our Southern hospitality, huh?"

Pursing my lips, slightly, I tipped my imaginary hat up at him, and replied, "Damn straight."

He chuckled, ruggedly, and answered, a little more seriously, "My turn. What is your.. Relationship with Danny? Honestly?"

I glanced up at him, my lashes brushing his taut jaw line, and I saw that his eyes weren't focused on me, but on his hands, and I replied, "We're just friends, I swear, Jas."

He nodded, his lips forming a fine line, and he bit his bottom lip, almost as an after thought. Moving without really realising what I was doing until I was straddling his waist, my knees on the dry, hard ground, and I angled my body so I was pressed firmly against him, and I kissed him, deeply, the taste of his tongue sweet in my mouth, and his hands constricted on my hips, and pulling me against him tighter, if that was at all possible. Once I pulled away, I stared directly into his eyes, which had darkened considerably, and whispered, "Now I know why the lip thing bothers you so much."

He barked out a deep laugh, his voice rough and gravely, and oh-so-sexy. I rubbed my hands together, nervously, and stuttered, "Right.. Questions.. Alright, a little personal, but I- Well, I think we've kind of passed that point, don't you think?"

He chuckled, and nodded in acquiescence, however I noticed the guarded gleam that rose up in his hungry, golden orbs. I asked, "What is your relationship with Irina?"

He blinked, vacantly, for a moment, before responding, emphatically, "Irina is.. Complicated. She's the daughter of one of Carlisle's friends, and.. Well, when we get together, we.. Uh, we fuck."

When he said those words, I couldn't look him in his eyes. I knew he wasn't a novice - he just gave off an experienced, dangerous vibe and that was all part of his attraction. I didn't like hearing about him and that other girl. No. That's a lie. I hated it. It made me feel sick to my stomach, and I felt my hands clench angrily besides his head, without my volition. He grabbed my shaking fists in his steady, strong hands, and pulled me forward, "Don't do that, Darlin'. There's a lot of shit in my life that ain't all that pretty, an' you ain't gonna like it, but what you need to know is that I'm wit' you now. Jus' you, jus' me. If you'll have me, of course."

"I just don't like it," I sighed, despondently, and he grimaced, slightly, before kissing me, innocently, on the cheek, and whispered against my skin, "Jus' you an' me, Darlin'. Nobody else, sugar."

"Is she still going to be around?"

I hated sounding so needy, so jealous, so pathetic, and I didn't know why I couldn't just let him be. He chuckled, softly, to himself, and said, his tone weary and his smirk, coy, "Yeah.. She kinda came down for me, but I swear," his eyes shone with an honesty that floored me, for a moment, "I'll stop everythin' wit' her. Jus' ask, an' I'll do it, I promise."

I licked my lips, in hesitation, knowing full well that my answer could change the course of whatever blossoming relationship that was forming between us. Inhaling, deeply, I replied, sincerely, "No.. I couldn't ask you to do that. She's family, and even though you two had an.. Intimate relationship, I wouldn't ever ask you to stop bein' there for her."

He tilted his head to the side, slightly, and replied, after a moment of silence, "I.. Uh, you're a better person than me, honestly, sugar."

That made me laugh, in all seriousness, and I shuffled closer to him, our noses bumping together, in one of those typical couple-y moments, and he craned upwards, pressing a light kiss to my lips. Tilting my head back, somewhat, I stared in his eyes, taking him in, and asked, with a quirked brow, "Wait.. You said she came down? She doesn't live wit' you? Where did she come from?"

He was rubbing small circles on the expanse of exposed skin of my waist with one hand, and his other played with the dip in my collarbone, absent-mindedly, almost as if he didn't realise what he was doing while he did it, and murmured, inaudibly, "Denali, Alaska."

"You mean when you were gone for that month.. You were up with her?"

His jaw tightened, fractionally, and he licked his lips in anxiousness. He replied, tenderly, "Yeah.. I'm kind of a tearaway. You know, the runt of the family? So.. Sometimes I go off on my own for a while, an' I jus' ended up there. An' she was available. So.. You know, shit happens, an' I spent more time than I thought I would be."

Exhaling, deeply, I tucked my face in his neck, holding the collar of his shirt, tightly, in my hands, and whispered against his skin, "You're killin' me here, Jas."

I was trying real hard to not focus on the bad, and feel like one of those girls, but I couldn't help it. I stole her man, I really did, and it wasn't like I could just apologise to her because I wasn't sorry. He rubbed my back, lovingly, his fingers so soft against my skin, as if he wasn't even touching me, and asked, "What about you? Are there any guys I need to worry about?"

I could hear the humor in his tone, mixed in with a sliver of seriousness. He wanted to know about my exes? Well, ex, as in singular. My first and only, as of September was the worst experience of my life, and I knew I needed to be honest with him. He was baring himself to me, and I couldn't start whatever this was by lying to him. The only thing was that I didn't know if I could tell him, though. I really didn't. Nervously, I stammered, "Uh.. Well, I mean.. There isn't.. Anyone right now."

He nudged my shoulders with his hands, and stared at me in my teary-eyes, his brows furrowing in confusion, his forehead crinkling adorably, and he asked, with a small smile, a sliver of pearly white teeth poking from between perfectly smooth, soft pale pink lips, "What.. What aren't you tellin' me, Darlin'? I promise, I wont be mad at you. Hell.. I don't have any right to be."

Settling in his embrace, holding onto him tightly, as if he were securing me to this world, and he kind of was, in a way, before responding, dully, "I have an ex. One. He put me off dating, I guess."

He tightened his hold on my hips, as he shifted, only to move me around a little, making me feel more comfortable in his lap, and he asked, "Why? What was he like?"

Exhaling, I played with my hands, digging my fingers in the fleshy part of my palm, pinching and nipping at my wrists, and replied, "He was the worst. He.. I hadn't been the most popular girl in school. A little chubby, stupid hair, glasses and freckles galore. Guys rarely paid me any attention - I was the Co-Captain's dorky sister. Not hot enough for the cheerleaders, not popular enough for the rest of the school. I never listened to the gossip and rumors - that wasn't my style. It was dumb, and I had better things to do. And Paul, that was his name, he.. Uh, he really looked at me. Past the glasses, past the squeaky voice, past the chubbiness. Or, I thought he did anyway."

"He treated me like I was somethin' special - he cared about me. A little too much, honestly. He started to control everything. What I ate, who I was around, what I did and what I liked to do. The people I spent my time wit' changed, my attitude took a turn for the worst. My grades plummeted, my parents were arguing, my life was breaking apart at the seams before my eyes, and he was the only constant in my life. That was until the day he.. The day he first.." a tear fell from my eyes then, and rolled down my cheek, and he rubbed it away with his thumb, his expression far away, like he wasn't even with me anymore, yet the small circles drawn on my skin never stopped soothing me throughout my tale. "He hit me."

His grip tightened, fractionally, however he said nothing on the topic. He just let me talk - which was the best thing he could have done. If he would have flipped out, or started running his mouth, then I would have had to have left. I had done all of that with Clyde, I just wanted to be listened to. I wanted him to pay attention to me, and just let me talk.

"It wasn't anythin' serious in the beginning.. Jus' the odd shove when I bothered him. If I said somethin' he didn't like, he'd push me. If I ate somethin' he told me not to, he'd verbally destroy every ounce of self-confidence that I thought I had, until I wanted to die. I made myself sick over an' over again - I dropped the excess forty pounds in the six months we were together, jus' because I stopped eatin'. I stopped doing everything; goin' out, playing music, drawin'. Everything."

His one hand started running through my hair, catching my scalp in the most comforting of ways, and he let me rest the side of my cheek against his chest, and I continued, my eyes rimmed with red as I cried.

"Then it started gettin' worse. The shoving would turn into slaps, then punches. One time he clocked me in the back of my head so hard that I blacked out. My brother was being himself - popular, friendly, happy. I didn't want to impose on that, so I threw myself into my own world. Weed, alcohol, loud music. It jus' drowned everythin' else out, and I could just relax for a couple of hours."

I tucked myself further into his stony, tense arms, but I couldn't stop myself now that I had started.

"The moment that ended everythin' for me was the night I lost my virginity.. It wasn't consensual."

Then he sprung into action.

His teeth gnashed together, in an almost animalistic way, and a dull purring sound was heard, vibrating from the middle of his chest; as if he were a 6'4" cat. It wasn't normal, but I couldn't focus on that now. What I was too busy focusing on was not breaking down completely in his arms. He asked, his tone steely, his eyes flashed with all of these emotions that I couldn't recognise, "Does Clyde know?"

Nodding, I mumbled, amusedly, "Yeah.. He beat his ass six-ways to Sunday that night after I called him. Paul left after that, an' I haven't seen him since."

We spent the next, God knows, how long, in each other's arms, until the sun went down. Jas did nothing but hold me, strongly, firmly, protectively, in his arms while I cried.

I cried for my brother, and the pain I continually put him through. I cried for my father, and for the lies I tell him every day. I cried for Paul, and for the life and love that he took away from me. I cried for my mother, the woman who was supposed to be my role model, and yet turned out to be nothing more than a disappointment. I cried for Jas, and the love that I wished I could give him, but the fear of being left behind being too strong to overpower.

But more importantly, I cried for myself, as I washed away the thoughts, the emotions, the depression, the fear, the anxiety, the rage, the pain. They fell from my body in large, oval shaped tears, and stained my clothing but I didn't care. They were like the waterfall we were sitting by - moving away, constantly, and I promised myself then and there that I would, not so much get over it, because that would be impossible, but I would move forward in my life, and become a better person because of what has happened to me.

Trigger warnings: Mentions of past rape/non-con, drug abuse, alcohol abuse, underage drinking, bulimia, anorexia, depression and self-harm. If you are experiencing any of these issues within your life, please talk to somebody. If not your parents, guardians or friends, then anonymous hotlines that offer free and confidential advice.

Thank you and read, review and favorite.