A/N: Twilight doesn't belong to me. It belongs to Stephanie Meyer. The characterization of Jasper at the God of War and Peter just knowing shit belongs to Idreamofeddy.

oOo

September 2080

One Week Later …

JPOV

The past eight days had been both better and worse than the five weeks preceding them. My visit with Peter and Charlotte had been comforting, their company familiar and reassuring. It had been nice. I couldn't deny that, but it hadn't helped as much as I thought it would, as much as it usually did. It did nothing for my restlessness but their presence had grounded me, made me feel more like myself than I had in a long while. More importantly, it took my mind off the human girl which was really what I needed more than anything, and it brought me a sense of relief I hadn't known I'd been craving.

Peter and Charlotte were much more perceptive of my moods than the other members of my family, which wasn't to say that my vegetarian "parents" and brothers and sisters were clueless; but Peter and Charlotte had known me at my worst both when I was at my most evil and my most broken. I had never been able to hide anything from them; whereas I had managed to shield the Cullens from those parts of me. It wasn't that I was lying to them. They knew about my past and who I was, but I'd never given them any details from that time in my life. Those weren't things they needed to know. If I could have afforded Peter and Charlotte that luxury I would have. I would do anything to give them that, in fact, but there was nothing I could do to erase their knowledge of the Southern Wars and who I had been. At the same time, I didn't want to change it since I'd still be in that fuckin' hell hole if not for them. Because Peter and Charlotte knew every part of me so well, it didn't matter if I was putting on a Pacino caliber performance to cover up a massive decline in my mood. They, Peter in particular, always knew when something with me wasn't right. I didn't know if Peter's ability to see through me came from being my second-in-command, brother, and best friend for years or if it was because he just knew shit. I suspected it was a little of all of it. As for Charlotte, well, she just had this way of looking at you and seeing shit you didn't want her to see. It wasn't a gift in the way that I can feel and manipulate emotions or that Edward can read minds and put his thoughts into people's heads; it's one of those freaky chick things that no man could ever figure out or explain. And so, Peter and Charlotte knew almost immediately that something was off with me when I showed up on their doorstep.

Even though I had been relieved to finally get to them, my head had still been all out of sorts from my encounter with Paige. It wasn't that I wasn't fine, but I was confused as hell. On top of that, the itching and the ache in my chest had amped up again, and it was pissing me off. I didn't talk about any of those things to either of them. I didn't mention Paige at all. I might have right after she left Forks and the memory of her had started driving me crazy. Peter was the only person I would have trusted enough to share that with and ask advice about the situation but the fucker hadn't answered his goddamn phone. Charlotte hadn't either and I was now passed the point at which I was willing to talk about it. It didn't matter anyway. I would never see her again. Maybe I hadn't fucked her but I had gotten to touch her, and that would be enough to get her out of my head and my system for good. Paige Donnelly was now a nonentity to me. That made me feel better.

Peter and Charlotte hadn't been entirely convinced that I was back to normal though, so when I headed home to Forks last Sunday morning they came with me. I had been happy about it at the time, despite my annoyance at the concern they tried to hide. I missed them and I had been willing to put up with that if it meant I could have them with me.

Now, seven days after they had joined me in Forks, I was seriously reconsidering my choice and taste in family members.

Emmett and Peter were seated at the dining room table, both with giant platters of hot dogs (twenty apiece) before them. It was their latest dare-to see which one of them could stomach the most human food before they made themselves sick. It wasn't unlike a human eating contest, only I imagined for vampires it would be a hell of a lot more fuckin' uncomfortable. This particular foray into jackassery had been Emmett's idea and it had been inspired by the breakfast we'd had with "Storm" six weeks ago.

I rolled my eyes. Fuckin' idiots!

That was Emmett and Peter for you though. They were both extraordinarily good-humored and whenever they were together dares abounded and an inevitable prank war ensued. It was one of the reasons they had taken to each other so quickly when I joined the Cullens with Alice in 1984.

"Don't expect Charlotte and me to clean the two of you up when you vomit all over yourselves," Rosalie stated flatly from her seat next to my offspring/sister across the table from them. Despite her harsh tone, Rose was really quite amused by the whole thing and also looking forward to seeing how it would play out. We all were. There was always decent entertainment and a good time to be had when my two goofball brothers got together. Of course, there was an element of disgust to Rose's emotions as well, but that was another thing we all had in common. I mean really, who liked dealing with regurgitated food? Especially vampires who thought human food was disgusting whether it was whole or partially digested.

Now Rosalie and Charlotte were a much different story than Emmett and Peter had been. It had taken them a couple of decades to warm up to each other and, surprisingly, that was just as equally Charlotte's fault as it was Rose's. Charlotte was a hell of a lot more easygoing than Rose was but she had always been very protective of me, God only knows why after the things I'd done to her and didn't take kindly to how Rose had treated me at first. I, personally, had never blamed Rose for that and it wasn't like I took immediately to her either. A strange vampire had come into her home, a vampire covered in scars that screamed "Welcome to your painful death," and exuding an air of power that could not be denied. Rose had lived a sheltered life as a human until Royce King had shown her just how ugly this world could be, and though it had been decades since the night both he and Carlisle had brutally opened her eyes to that, in very different ways and for very different reasons, she had still struggled with it. She had been afraid of me, fuckin' terrified, as she should have been. I was still rough and, just like her, it took me a while to trust people. People I didn't trust were a thousand times more likely to end up on the receiving end of my power and wrath, and I had never been shy about showing people what I would do to them if they crossed me.

For someone like Rosalie, who had only ever had the other members of her very passive-minded family as examples of what others of our kind were like, meeting me had been a shock to her system. Oh, she thought she knew because of how she had struggled with the innate urges our natural instincts brought out in us, but struggling with that shit and meeting someone who had never denied them, someone who only recently had begun to be sorry for it all, was like the difference between night and sparkly fuckin' day. It was a good damn thing she hadn't met me forty years before. As the years passed though and she started to see beyond that side of me as well as my genuine desire not to feed on humans, her fear began to dissipate and her opinion of me began to change as mine did of her. We started to see how much we had in common. We were both fiercely loyal and stubborn, with hard shells to crack before you got to the heart of us. When you got passed the ice, Rose really did have a soft, marshmallowy center; and as her bitterness over what had been done to her, both by Royce and Carlisle, gave way to acceptance, she had become a woman much less angry, resentful, and difficult to be around. Her behavior toward Paige had more to do with her loyalty to and protectiveness of the family than it had to do with who she was as a person. Once upon a time, that would not have been true. We had also bonded over our mutual love of pissing Edward off. My relationship with him had been rocky for a very long time, decades in fact, because of my relationship with Alice.

Vampires were possessive bastards when it came to their mates and it had taken Alice a long time to figure out that Edward was hers. I had never felt that way about her on my end of things and she hadn't either but she had still believed that she and I were mates because of the simple fact that she had seen visions of us together and none involving herself and Edward. I think she thought that when I was ready to love her in that way that she would follow suit. Plus, she had always relied too much on her visions and because of that, her lack of sight when it came to her and Edward had helped her to ignore the pull she felt towards him, dismissing it for what it was. My theory on that was that there were certain events that her gift protected her from. It would only lead her so far before she had to figure things out on her own, the big, life-altering things in regard to herself, like Edward being her mate, because no one should have all the answers, and there were some things that just shouldn't be known instantaneously. Anyway, Edward hadn't liked watching the two of us together, especially the vivid visuals of us fucking, and his hostility toward me as a result had ended with several limbs parting ways with his body.

Rosalie had enjoyed that immensely. She and Edward truly were brother and sister in the respect that, even though they loved each other, they lived to annoy each other a lot of the time, and I was much better at pissing him off than she was. That was the only thing she had liked about me at the time.

Only when Rose and I had finally become friends had Charlotte begun to let her grudge go, and even then it had taken another decade for them to become friends. Now they were thick as fuckin' thieves.

Peter smirked at Rose, only eying Charlotte with his peripheral vision. "Oh, Rosie, my Char won't be able to resist cleanin' me up."

Charlotte rolled her eyes at her mate, "Pete, honey, I've been, for the most part, gladly cleanin' up your messes for damn near thirteen decades now but I draw the line at vomit, especially when you make it out like me cleanin' up that particular mess is gonna lead to some kind of sex. Let me assure you that that is not goin' to happen, babe."

Edward, Alice, and I snickered at this, the former two in particular. Alice had obviously seen the outcome of their idiocy which Edward had plucked out of her head, their overwhelming amusement clearly suggesting this, but they weren't sharing. That didn't really matter though. The show would be just as funny to watch as it played out as it would be to see beforehand.

Edward, who was presiding over the whole thing, held up a stopwatch, poised to press the button and tell Emmett and Peter when to start. It was overkill if you asked me. It didn't really matter how fast the fuckers ate the hot dogs. It only mattered who made themselves sick first. Even so, he seemed to be stupidly excited about his role in it all so I wasn't going to voice my opinion about that.

He raised up the arm in which he was holding the stopwatch and brought it down in a slashing motion. "Aaannnddd go!"

Emmett and Peter immediately dug in, stuffing hot dogs into their mouths whole. Emmett wasn't really bothering to chew while Peter was chewing at vampire speed. Peter was being a lot smarter about the whole thing, really. When he got sick it wouldn't be nearly as uncomfortable for him as it would be for Em when he did.

Rosalie, Charlotte, Alice, Edward, and I were all cheering 'em on like we were watching some sort of demented sporting event. Alice was jumping up and down and pumping one of her fists in the air, taking turns rooting for both of them. Charlotte and Rose were rooting for their respective mates while Edward and I were mostly just laughing at the two of them with the occasional cheer thrown in.

Emmett ended up topping off at thirteen hot dogs before he couldn't stomach anymore while Peter could only manage twelve. Vampire stomachs didn't expand the way human ones did, so once they were full there was no shoving anymore shit down their throats. If it had been blood it would have been different since liquids were different than solids. If you drank too much all it did was make you feel sloshy.

The only problem was, even though they couldn't eat anymore, neither of them appeared to be on the verge of getting sick. It wasn't that they weren't feeling sick. They just weren't feeling sick enough to blow chunks. Either way, my amusement over their antics had abruptly died and I was now fuckin' pissed. Their nausea and revulsion were being projected onto me and it was turning my stomach.

Douchebags. I scowled, crossing my arms over my chest irritably.

"Goddamn, that shit is nasty," Emmett exclaimed, taking one of our rarely used linen napkins and wiping at his tongue frantically. I doubted that would help get the taste out of his mouth. Peter nodded emphatically in agreement and mimicked his actions.

"What the fuck did you expect, asshole?" I snapped, my anger mounting the more I had to endure the discomfort resulting from their stupidity. I had dealt with worse in my long life but that didn't mean I fuckin' liked it, and I was not enjoying the queasiness.

Peter's gaze snapped to me, confusion radiating off of him as he studied me closely. I cocked an eyebrow at him, silently demanding that he tell me why the hell he was staring at me but he didn't acknowledge my demand; instead, he moved his gaze to Charlotte, who also began to project confusion even though she didn't move her eyes to me. They stared at each other for several seconds, probably doin' that freaky mate mind-reading shit. Mates couldn't actually read each other's minds but they still always seemed to know what the other was thinking.

"Dude," Emmett protested, frowning. "What crawled up your ass?"

"Nothing," I said, doing my best to force a smile onto my face. "But seriously, what did you expect? All human food is disgusting! You knew that before you shoved all that shit down your throat." I had succeeded in softening and molding my tone into something light and my efforts seemed to be successful since his bright grin returned and he shoved Pete's shoulder. It caused Peter to snap his gaze from Charlotte's.

His confusion lessened considerably, his usual mischievousness coming back full force. He shoved Emmett back hard enough to knock him clean off his chair and then raced outside, making sure to go far enough into the forest that none of Esme's carefully cultivated landscaping became collateral damage. Em recovered quickly and chased after him. The telltale sounds of wrestling and the upending of plants and underbrush filled the air.

The rest of us followed behind them, eager to watch them continue to make asses of themselves though I had mixed feelings about joining everyone else. Emmett and Peter still weren't feeling the greatest and I truly wasn't in the mood to soak that shit up. On the other hand, the prospect of watching them beat on each other until they puked was too tempting to resist.

Em was a fantastic wrestler. His size and strength were powerful assets but Peter had nearly five decades of battle experience under his belt so as good as Emmett may have been, his talent wasn't quite enough to best Peter's skill. No matter how many times Pete pinned him though, he didn't give up and he eventually did succeed in returning the favor even though it was only for a second. Peter got out from underneath him quickly, tossing him over his shoulder and into the tree right behind me. The impact didn't shatter the tree, though it did send a resounding crack that scared off all the wildlife echoing through the woods. That maneuver was the straw that broke the camel's back because the next thing I knew, my back was soaked with Emmett's vomit.

I'm not really sure what happened next. That part of my memory was lost to me, which happened sometimes when I lost control-a blackout of sorts. All I can really say was that a red hue clouded my vision. Everything after that was a blur. I don't know how much time passed between my lapse in coherency, only that when I came out of it, I had Peter pinned beneath me, my knees on either side of his ribcage, my hand so tight around his throat there were cracks in his skin, and my teeth millimeters away from tearing into his neck. It would have been a killing bite. An easy start to ripping off his head.

I pulled back suddenly, still with Peter pinned but my teeth away from his neck, my brows furrowed in confusion as I looked my brother and best friend in the eyes. He was looking back at me, red eyes eerily calm, like he knew I would never have gone through with it, but I was too busy trying to wrap my head around what had happened to process that just yet. Did I feel awful about what I'd nearly done? There was no question, but the full weight of it wouldn't hit me until later. Right then, all I could do was survey my surroundings in mild shock. Trees, boulders, brush, and animals had been demolished in a zigzag pattern that must have stretched out over a mile long from where we'd been before I'd gone schizo. Peter and I were covered in all the aforementioned things as well as mud and the blood of those animals, what was left of the clothes we'd been wearing mere scraps of fabric hanging in obscure places off an arm or a shoulder.

The rest of the family was not with us.

I was still confused, still looking into Peter's eyes, my hand still around his throat but not as tight, and frowning as I tried to make sense of things. He just stared back patiently.

"Jasper," he said, his tone devoid of its usual mischief but full of compassion and love instead.

The sound of his voice brought me back to my senses and I leaped backward off him, landing several feet away, eyes wide in horror. I felt sick but I pushed passed it and made my way back to my brother, who was still flat on his back. When I held my hand out to him, I wasn't sure if he would take it. He didn't make me wait to find out, reaching up and grasping it without hesitation. I pulled him to his feet and once he was standing again, our eyes met. His were sad but understanding. I didn't know what emotions were in mine but my face was devoid of expression because at that moment I couldn't feel much of anything. At the same time, I felt everything.

Peter just gave me a slight nod of his head. It was his way of telling me I was forgiven.

I nodded back, knowing I didn't deserve it.

oOo

The next two days were uneventful. After standing in the shower until the hot water ran out as I tried to clear my muddled mind, I went on as if everything was normal. Like I was fine. I was fine. I felt awful for nearly ripping Peter's head off but that was normal.

Edward, Alice, Emmett, and Rosalie didn't really know what had happened so they didn't treat me any differently. Peter was the only one who had witnessed my insanity. Charlotte had known what was happening just as immediately as her mate had and while Peter had intercepted me, keeping me from tearing into my kind-hearted bear of a brother, she had handled the rest of the family. She was a quick thinker and Edward could no more read her mind than he could mine or Peter's thanks to a vampire I'd sired during the Southern Wars. That vampire was gifted with the ability to see the gifts in others, dissect the weaknesses in those gifts, and how to use those weaknesses to block their gifts or turn them against them. We had dealt with another telepath back then, so keeping him out of our heads had never been a problem for us. As for Alice, I didn't think in the same way I normally did when I was sane. It was all instinct when the monster took over though I'd spent enough time fighting for that instinct to be calculating and logical. Still, it was all reflex and no decision making, so my actions could not be predicted; thus leaving her blind. It concerned her but not so much that she would push me to talk about it.

I'm not sure what Charlotte had said to convince the others not to follow Peter and I; that everything between us was okay, but she had. There was a certain amount of curiosity in their emotions when the four of them looked at me every now and again, but for the most part, nothing had changed between us. I wondered what all of them would do, what they would say if they knew the truth. I wasn't sure I cared.

When Carlisle and Esme asked what had happened to the forest, they were regaled with the hilarity of Emmett and Peter's digestive dare and the resulting wrestling matches. Our parental figures had succeeded in pretending not to be amused on the surface, but on the inside failed miserably, chastising the three of us and telling us we needed to be more careful about what we wrecked so as not to draw attention to anything strange that may or may not be happening in the area. We'd also been paid a visit by the Quileutes.

All in all, things weren't awful … with one exception. Carlisle had been depressed for days now. I didn't remember him ever feeling so down or so heartbroken before. He was constantly preoccupied, hardly ever spoke, spent a lot more time at the hospital, and when he was home he spent most of his time locked away in his office. What was most concerning though was that he'd pulled away from Esme. No matter what was bothering him, he always turned to his mate for comfort but he was shutting her out just as much as he was everyone else. When I asked Edward if he knew what was going on with him, he couldn't give me an answer. Carlisle had been blocking him just as effectively as I could.

It was a mystery I was obsessively mulling over as I sat on the couch in my room, lazily strumming Charlotte Rose. Lately, losing myself in her music was the only thing that brought any relief from the ache in my chest or calmed the itch I couldn't seem to rid myself of. It didn't help much but I'd take what I could get. At least the restlessness had dimmed in the aftermath of my episode. I didn't understand why but fuck if I was going to question that shit when I was feeling mildly better because of it.

I didn't look up or stop playing when Peter and Charlotte entered my bedroom without knocking, waiting until I was finished with the song I'd been playing to acknowledge that they were there. They didn't seem to care.

I gave them both a small smile, one that my heart was only half into, before asking, "What can I do for you on this fine, gloomy Forks day?"

"Well, Major," Peter answered, calling me by that name for the first time since I'd nearly taken his head off, and grinning at me, "Char and I thought we'd give livin' in Forks a try. Figured you'd want to be the first to know."

I didn't try to hide my scowl. I knew what this was. We had known each other for too damn long for me not to. Even if it hadn't been more than a century, even if I hadn't been the one who'd created them, what they were doin' was fuckin' transparent.

"Woods," I snarled, my tone low and dangerous. "Now."

They followed without protest.

oOo

I hadn't stopped running until we'd traveled fifty miles from the house. I had been tempted to run all the way to Toronto just to alleviate some of the rage I felt but knew there was nothing that would help with that at the moment.

Peter and Charlotte had continued to follow me without a word.

When I did finally stop, I whirled around to face them and folded my arms across my chest. "Would the two of you care to explain yourselves?" I asked through gritted teeth, my back ramrod straight, and my tone as calm as I could make it.

Peter regarded me evenly, his expression still lacking its usual good humor. "You've never been a slow man, Major," he said, "and I know I stated myself pretty plain, but since you seem to be havin' trouble comprehending in this instance I suppose I can repeat myself. Charlotte and I are movin' to Forks."

My eyes narrowed. "Why the fuck would you do that?!"

"Because it's time for a change and what better place to live than where you are," Charlotte answered, speaking for the first time. She'd been unusually quiet the past two days. There had been no anger in her emotions but there had been an awful lot of determination. I hadn't thought about it much. Maybe I should have.

My eyebrows shot up in disbelief. "You expect me to buy that bullshit?! As you said, I am not slow! You fucking hate it here! You hate that the sun hardly ever shines! You hate that it's almost always raining! You hate that there's nothing to do! Not to mention the fact that if you move here, it means no more feeding on humans, and you fucking hate the idea of drinking animal blood!"

"There's plenty to do here," Peter said, his voice still irritatingly unchanged. "Whose eternity would be complete without sufferin' through the banality that is high school?"

My mouth dropped open for a split second before I snapped it closed and scowled again. "The two of you are gonna go to high school." I didn't have to phrase it as a question. His tone and emotions were resolute, and I knew he wasn't kidding. Charlotte's determination hadn't wavered either. They were both on board with this.

"Yep," Peter confirmed, smirking.

"Umhmm," Charlotte hummed in agreement, a little smile on her face. There was a tinge of smugness there. Their answers were spoken simultaneously.

I did not find any of this amusing. Had the two of them come to me three months ago and told me this, I would have questioned their sanity but I would have welcomed the idea of them moving to Forks. I would have been ecstatic about the two of them joining all of us at Forks High. I mean, really, Emmett and Peter … together … in a high school. Think of the possibilities.

But this, this I did not fuckin' appreciate. "You think I don't know what you're doin'?"

"Haven't we already covered this?" Peter responded to my hostile tone, not afraid in the least.

I was getting really fuckin' tired of people not being afraid of me.

"I'm talking about what you're really doin'," I clarified, glaring, clenching my fists and still focusing my rage on Peter. "I don't need a fucking babysitter!"

"The hell you don't!" Peter growled, fuming, his glare just as nasty as mine but the sadness and worry in his eyes and emotions he couldn't hide. There were anger and frustration there too. All of it made me want to rip his head off. "See—that right there!" he exclaimed, jabbing a finger at me. "You want to rip my damn head off right now. I know you so fuckin' well I can see it in your eyes, but I can't feel it! I should be on my knees right now, cowerin' in goddamn submission ready to kiss your feet just to keep ya from doin' it, but I don't feel it and you've been this way for a while. You haven't projected once in the past ten days! That's God of War shit, Jasper!"

Except for when I'd been a newborn vampire, I'd always been the Major. Maria had seen to that and when she was finished, I'd continued to unconsciously develop and hone that persona on my own. The Major was a badass motherfucker, feared by those who had seen him fight. The only reason there was anyone around to tell those tales was because Maria had ordered me to let them go so they could. I hadn't always been the God of War. That persona was an entirely different thing, one that hadn't come along until a few years after I'd turned Peter, just after the fucker had crawled under my skin and started to remind me that I had once been something else, someone else—a soldier who'd fought for his country with pride and good intentions, a young man with a family and people he loved.

To really understand how my mind functioned, it's best to use a color code metaphor.

Jasper, the part of me that was closest to who I'd been as a human, was all about shades of gray. When I was solely Jasper, I could clearly recognize and even relate to, on some level, the emotions I absorbed through my gift. When I was Jasper, I was capable of allowing my heart and conscience to color my actions. Jasper was capable of mercy and compassion.

When I was the Major, I operated solely in black and white. Either something wasn't a threat and I didn't touch it or it was a threat and I took it out. My thought process was cold, calculating and logical, but it was much more difficult to get through to me when the Major was riding my ass. However, if one knew how to play on that logic properly and provide an adequate emotional tether, there was a way to bring me back before I wreaked enough havoc to provoke the townsfolk, fully equipped with torches and pitchforks, into storming my castle.

When I was the God of War, nothing existed but black. Everywhere I went death and destruction followed like an incurable plague. Everyone and everything was fair game to me. It didn't matter if the other parts of me loved you or considered you family, you'd die in an instant if you happened to be anywhere in close proximity to me while I was on the warpath. Hell, it was even likely that I'd rip my own fuckin' mate to pieces if she got in my way. That's how far gone I was when that darkness took over. There were only two exceptions to this. Maria, for obvious reasons, was one of them, though I doubted that would still be the case if we came across each other again. Peter was the other.

Since I'd left Maria and the Southern Wars behind, I most commonly rode the line between 'Jasper' and 'The Major'. It left me human enough to give a shit and vampire enough to still be a badass. I could switch into full-on Major mode effortlessly if a situation called for it. There were times when that persona took over without my permission, which I fuckin' hated but had learned to deal with. The God of War was a different story. I had no semblance of control when I was him, and the things Maria had put me through to create the God of War were so horrific I couldn't even put them into words, but I remembered them. I remembered every single fuckin' second of them, and she'd done it all by using my gift against me … all thanks to the vampire I had sired with the gift to see the gifts in others, dissect the weaknesses in them, and how to use those weaknesses to block their gifts or turn them against them.

Not projecting was one of the signs that I was truly losing it, that the God of War was looming on the horizon. I just stared at Peter, stunned, and he took it as an opportunity to continue his tirade.

"The Cullens may know about your past and who you are, Jasper, but they don't really know. No one who wasn't there can ever really know!" Peter said quietly but earnestly, venom and emotion shining in his eyes. "They cannot handle you like that but I can. I am the only one who has a shot at bringing you back and you fuckin' know it; and when I do, you'll be broken just like you always are. I'll be the one to pick up the pieces because I'm the only one who can even if that means lettin' you rip me apart to do it, and you fuckin' know that too!"

I gritted my teeth, my jaw tightening almost painfully and my glare growing murderous. He was right, I knew he was, but I couldn't say it out loud. I was too stubborn and wouldn't admit it. Admitting it meant I had to acknowledge the truth of what he was saying, and I didn't want to.

"You can stand there glarin' at me all you want, threaten to rip my eyeballs out through my asshole. Hell, go ahead and do it! It's nothing you haven't done before!" He shouted. I flinched at this, not wanting to be reminded of the things I had done so many years ago; especially to someone I loved so damn much. "So you can bitch and moan and whine, but you're not gettin' rid of me or Char. Deal with it, fucker!"

He crossed his arms over his chest in a display of stubbornness just as fierce as any of mine and glared at me. Charlotte came up to me then, patting my shoulder gently, her eyes filled with love but never pity. She knew how much I hated that and how condescending I thought it was.

"We're doin' this because we love you, Jasper," she said, her voice and emotions sincere. "We love you more than anything. We always have," she continued. "Besides, we're Whitlocks. We're meant to be together and not just for a couple of months out of the year. If we've got to change our diet for a little while," —she grimaced—, "then that's what we'll do."

"And you have to admit," Peter chimed in, his smile having returned. "All of us together is gonna be fuckin' epic."

I sighed. Maybe when I had calmed down I could agree but I needed some time and they knew that. They left without me having to request it.

I started running again, heading toward the sound of rushing water, and coming upon a river only minutes later. Luckily for me, just a mile from where I'd exited the treeline there was a rock not quite in the middle of the flow of water so I bent my knees, pushed off the ground with ease, and landed lightly on its rough surface.

I did my best thinking to the sound of flowing water as I looked up at the stars and moon. It was quiet and peaceful. It made me quiet and peaceful. It was an internal kind of quiet and peace.

I laid there for hours. At first, I didn't think at all, just doing my best to let my mind go empty. After that I really analyzed things.

First and foremost, I had to stop blaming Paige for how fucked up I'd been lately. Maybe it had gotten worse since I'd met her but I had really started to struggle with all my shit again before that and just hadn't realized it until Peter and Charlotte had pointed it out. Yes, she annoyed the shit out of me. Yes, I fuckin' hated her, but she was not responsible for this and there was no use in blaming someone I was never going to see again. Second, Peter and Charlotte were right. I wasn't fine. I was on the verge of losing it and I wasn't sure why. If I did lose it I would need their help and I was going to let them, or I would at least try to because they were the only people who understood. Peter was the only person who had a chance at bringing me back to myself and he and Charlotte would put me back together.

I regret a lot of things but I don't regret being a vampire. That didn't mean I wanted to be what I once was, what Maria had made me into. I would die before I let that happen so I wouldn't bitch or moan or whine about my brother and sister moving here. I would be happy about it. I was happy about it. Having Peter and Charlotte around all the time would be nice, it would be fun, we were meant to be together for more than just a couple months at a time. I had people in my life who loved me enough to go from drinking human blood to animal, which was like going from drinking ambrosia to drinking sewage, who would endure high school when they didn't have to, and live in the rain and gloom when they loved the sun. I was lucky as hell to have them and I was so fuckin' grateful for that. I'd also been blessed with the Cullens, and maybe they didn't understand me, but they loved me despite that and I was thankful for that too. Maybe my life wasn't perfect but it wasn't shitty. Maybe it was even kind of good.