Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight, nor do I own the idea of Jasper as the God of War or Peter just knowing shit. Those ideas belong to idreamofeddy.

A/N: Hi, everyone! Sorry it took so long to post again. Life happened.

I would like to give a huge thanks to my prereaders Juliangelus, Laurie Whitlock, and tammygrrl. They are invaluable to me.

Anyway...on to the chapter!

oOo

Friday, January 1st, 2081, Morning...

BPOV

The moment our lips touched, a jolt went through me, strong enough that I nearly pulled away, but I remained still, keeping the contact for another breath before retreating slowly and carefully. Just as before, Not-Jasper allowed it. Returning my gaze to his, I stared into his eyes, which were just as empty as before. The kiss didn't work. I was now out of options...but then something started to shift. The emptiness in Not-Jasper's eyes began to transition from cold and desolate to agony and desperation, panic, distrust. He looked like a cornered, wounded animal baring its teeth, raw and feral. It took a moment, like the skip of a needle on vinyl, but then the chaos of his emotions hit me like a freight train, nearly knocking me off my feet. It took all of my strength and then some to keep from collapsing and curling into a fetal position at the emotional and physical pain of it. As it was, it left me a trembling, shaky mess. Tears tumbled down my cheeks as I was sucked into his turmoil, and it took everything I had not to succumb to the assault. The only reason I hadn't broken down yet was because I knew this pain. I had felt this pain, the human equivalent of it at least. If not for that I wouldn't make it through this and I wouldn't be able to help him, and I wanted to more than anything, even if I felt crushed by the weight of it all. I couldn't fuck this up, so I took a few deep breaths to help steady myself and tamped it all down until I felt like I could still function sufficiently. I had to be strong enough to fight this battle because that's what it was. I would fight for him in the only way I knew how even if it wasn't enough, even if at some point I stopped knowing what to do. I would still try. Jasper was worth fighting for.

I couldn't call the man before me Not-Jasper anymore but neither was he the man I knew. His hands tightened on my shoulders again before he abruptly let me go and stumbled back a step, head wildly tracking our surroundings in a mere second. But then his eyes snapped back to mine and the panic softened just a little, making him look more wounded and raw rather than feral, and it was the most heart-wrenching thing I'd ever seen. Every cell in my body wanted to let go and weep at the sight and feel of his pain. Everything in me called out to him, wanting to offer some sort of comfort despite knowing there was nothing that could ever provide what he needed. I wanted to give it to him anyway. I would have given him anything in that moment. I would have done anything to alleviate his misery that was now mine. If only sharing in his empathy would help lighten the burden that sat upon his shoulders.

He looked so lost and hurt, like an abused, abandoned puppy, still so embroiled in his agony that he didn't seem to be aware of anything else, but then his eyes drifted to me. They started to clear and shine with something I couldn't name, and without warning, he was back in my space, hands finding my upper arms, gentle this time. He pulled me close, handling me cautiously. When he leaned in, I froze, not quite knowing what was happening even if, to someone else, it was obvious. When his lips found mine I felt simultaneously wide awake and like I was dreaming, the surreality of it striking. It made my head spin.

I had no idea what to do. Another kiss when Jasper wasn't in a stable state of mind seemed like just as bad an idea as the first, and my rational mind was screaming that this was wrong. My body had other ideas though because the longer his lips were pressed to mine, the less I cared what might be right or wrong. In point of fact, the line between right and wrong began to blur, so much that my heart eventually said a rather eloquent "fuck off" to my brain, and just like that I was kissing him back. His lips were soft—I hadn't noticed that before.

The kiss was tentative in that first moment, but in a heartbeat it grew bold and demanding, and I couldn't keep up. My lips were awkward and clumsy and I was absolutely out of my depth, but Jasper didn't seem to care. He kissed like a man on a mission, a very passionate and sexy mission. Just as my brain started to go fuzzy around the edges, when I was finally starting to truly surrender myself to it—to him—Jasper pulled away. He released me fast, as though I had burned him, looking more than a little startled. The sudden freedom from his grip left me off balance and my knees wobbled before my body again found its equilibrium. My hand flew to my mouth, fingers lightly brushing my tingling lips in shock.

Jasper had just kissed me. Jasper had just kissed me. And I had kissed him back.

Oh no! Oh shit!

How could I have let this happen? How could I have taken advantage of him like that? It didn't matter that he'd kissed me first. He wasn't himself right now. How could I be certain he knew what he was doing and had chosen it? He was in so much pain, and I had ignored that and done it anyway. Not to mention the fact that he was staunchly opposed to kissing in general. I knew that and I had done it twice now. I felt sick.

I couldn't afford to let my guilt get in the way of trying to help Jasper though, if he would even let me after what I had done, but I had to do this. I still had to keep it together. I had to make this right.

All of his emotions had only become a little less visceral. I had adjusted enough to the onslaught that I no longer had to fight to keep on my feet and I'd gotten my tears under control, my hands rock steady.

Warily, I looked at him. He was still standing so close to me that I could reach out and touch him if I was so inclined, but I didn't think it was any better of an idea than it had been when he was Not-Jasper. I suspected my touch would be unwelcome regardless now, another stab of guilt piercing my heart, but I couldn't focus on that and again did my best to bury it.

My eyes found his, looking for even the slightest change. What I saw wasn't terribly encouraging. Some of the confusion had faded and some of the spark of his intelligence had returned, enough that I could tell he was now aware of himself and his surroundings. But it didn't outshine his pure abject misery. Again, the wounded and raw air about him was exceptionally powerful, and he was projecting so strongly it was hard to say just how far-reaching his power extended. The only good thing about all of it, and it actually wasn't a good thing at all, was that he was definitely my Jasper again, faint though his presence might be. The addition of a sickening sense of guilt and grief that now permeated his other horribly potent emotions helped to confirm it. Though, in some respects I was grateful that what I had done worked and brought him back, I hated it. The idea of Jasper suffering so much overwhelmed me with sadness and rage and I hoped I was doing a good enough job of masking my emotions that he couldn't feel them. I didn't want him to misunderstand and think they were aimed at him rather than the situation. His plight again made me want to weep for him. I wanted to soothe him but I didn't know how. I wasn't good at comfort or emotions in general. Mostly that didn't bother me because feelings were dangerous, but for the first time, I wished that weren't the case. If only I knew what to do, I would do it. I would do anything.

The longer we stood there watching each other, the more pleading Jasper's eyes became, a venom sheen making them bright in his tortured distress, and his hands kept clenching and unclenching at his sides. He wanted something, I knew he did, but I didn't know what, and he wouldn't say. The only thing I could think to do was to reassure him, "It's going to be okay, Jasper. I'm okay, you didn't hurt me, and I will help you to be okay again, no matter what it takes or how long. You're going to be okay, I promise."

A flash of something illuminated his eyes just for a moment, but I couldn't tell what it was, and he still didn't speak. That was all the attention he spared me before he turned on his heel and started picking his way through the rubble. I didn't have to guess why, once I worked out which direction he was going—to Peter—and I followed him. Once Jasper reached him, he gathered up both halves of his brother, presumably to begin the process of putting him back together.

"Hey, brother," Peter greeted weakly upon Jasper's arrival. I didn't know how I felt about him being conscious and aware while being torn apart except to briefly contemplate how traumatic that must be and wonder if it also applied to the family members who were more thoroughly dismembered. Also, it was slightly unsettling to see only half of someone trying to carry on a conversation.

Jasper looked Peter square in the eyes but said nothing. Peter didn't look surprised nor did he look uncomfortable with his current state of being, but he followed Jasper's lead and said nothing else.

It was fascinating, watching the process of the pieces of Peter slide back in place and fuse back together. It wasn't a terribly messy affair, not like reattaching a human limb, but it wasn't exactly a neat process either. Jasper massaged the wounds expertly, drawing more venom to the surface and spreading it thoroughly over them. He pressed each end of the wounds together gently but firmly, efficient in his skill, his face expressionless even if his emotions were not. He kept one hand on the seam and then held the other in front of Peter's mouth. Obediently, Peter spat until Jasper's palm was sufficiently full. Once it was, Jasper rubbed the venom along the seam of Peter's wounds. At that, Peter's flesh began to knit back together. It didn't take overly long, but it wasn't immediate either. Peter didn't seem to be hurting throughout any of it, but then, I wouldn't expect him to show it if he was, if only to save Jasper the extra pain and guilt.

Once Peter was back together, although still missing the jagged chunks of his shoulder and torso, he stood tall and commanding as he turned to me.

"Well, punk, it looks like you've been promoted to head nurse," he proclaimed calmly, taking charge. "If you're too squeamish, you'd better say so now."

"I can handle it," I promised. At this point, I would do it whether I was squeamish or not. I needed to help fix this, and I needed a valid excuse to keep my hands and brain busy as well.

Peter nodded, pleased. "Good. It will go a lot faster with your help."

"What do you need me to do?" I asked immediately.

"We need to find everybody," he instructed. "Right now, focus on the larger body parts. We'll worry about the little ones later. When you find something set it off to the side but place them a good bit of distance away from each other. We don't want anyone's venom mixin' together. It will hurt like a bitch and will definitely scar when we reconnect them. Got it?"

I nodded, feeling the odd, alarming, and terrifying need to say, 'Sir, yes sir!' It made me feel off-balance, vulnerable, and sick in a way that was similar yet different from what I was already experiencing. It was enough to distract me from my other emotions and my need to castigate myself for all the mistakes I'd made. It whited out my anxiety over Jasper and filled me with a different, more familiar anxiety, old but often revisited. This anxiety was even harder to shake but I shoved it deep down and would deal with it another time.

Considering how much venom saturated the area, I couldn't use my sense of smell to ferret out the pieces of my friends. That meant I could only use my keen eyesight to scan the wreckage, and even that ability was limited since the Cullens had no heat signature for my infrared vision to trace, much to my frustration. Still, it was enough. As soon as I settled into it, the search consumed me and I started to find the body parts, following Peter's instructions and making sure to adequately space them out once I'd removed them from the debris. Digging through the rubble was hard on my injured arms and shoulders and I moved slower because of it, but I'd had worse injuries and successfully hidden them. I could easily hide this. Unfortunately, if anyone could pick up on it regardless of my efforts, it was a couple of vampires. Luckily for me, they were paying more attention to the search than they were to me, so I was getting away with it...for now. I suspected no one would be devoting their full attention to me for awhile, which meant by the time they did, I would be healed enough to be able to fake it flawlessly.

Between the three of us, Jasper and Peter using their vampire abilities to help sift through the remains of the house, the morbid job went quickly. I couldn't avoid noticing how commonplace this whole situation seemed to be for the two of them, and I wasn't unaffected by the horror of that. I put even more effort into masking my emotions. Jasper didn't need to feel anything more than he already felt.

Unlike me, Jasper and Peter had grouped several of the body parts together, knowing what belonged to which family member whereas I could only guess at what wasn't immediately obvious. Peter surveyed what I had collected and directed me to add what I'd found to the correct piles. Seeing all of the people I cared about reduced to rubble overwhelmed me with sadness and nausea, and I wondered at what the power and skill and destruction of Not-Jasper could do if unleashed in other situations. If Jasper and Not-Jasper were the same person, it meant my Jasper had the capability to do this too. I had known Jasper was a threat from the moment I laid eyes on him, but I never could have imagined this. It scared the hell out of me, but I wasn't afraid of him—not the current Jasper or my Jasper or Not-Jasper or any Jasper in between. It was a possibly worrisome paradox I didn't really understand, and it either made me really smart or really stupid.

Peter directed me to a specific pile. "Charlotte first and then Carlisle." Jasper had started on what I now knew was Carlisle before Peter even declared it, working with the same precision and speed as he had when putting Peter back together. "They'll be able to help us get this done faster. After that I don't care what order we go in."

I nodded again.

"You're gonna help me with Charlotte so you can learn what to do," Peter said, motioning me to his side. He found the Charlotte pile, picking up her head and cradling it for just a moment before shutting off his sentimentality and getting down to business. "Start at the head and work your way down."

As it turned out, Peter and I worked together seamlessly. I handed him the part or parts he requested promptly and we steadily rebuilt an actual person, which was an odd but strangely satisfying experience. He taught me the best way to massage the wounded parts to bring the most venom to the surface, and he let me feel what it was like to fit the parts together like two pieces of a puzzle.

Peter showed no emotion as Charlotte began to take shape. He put her back together with care and tenderness but otherwise acted as though he had done this so many times it just didn't matter anymore. It was merely a procedure to be completed. He was just so clinical about it, as though when he finished his mate, the love of his life, would be returned to him didn't matter. I found it as disturbing as I did unbelievably sad.

When Charlotte was fully reassembled, she blinked up at Peter and a worn smile tugged at her lips.

"Heya, darlin'," Peter crooned fondly, finally showing some emotion. "How ya doin'?"

After a quick squeeze, Peter rose from the ground and offered Charlotte his hand. She grasped it firmly and let him pull her to her feet. "Same as always."

He clucked his tongue in consolation. "Maybe we can convince Carlisle to let you have a bag of human blood. It'll do you more good than animal blood and one bag shouldn't affect your eye color."

Charlotte smiled crookedly. "I can handle it either way," she said to her mate. "But all that can wait. Right now there's work to be done." She looked at me finally. "Hi, Bella."

"Hey," I greeted, not sure what to say to someone who had been nothing more than body parts in a neat pile not too long ago.

"All right," Peter said. "Jasper's just finished Carlisle and is movin' on to Emmett. Carlisle is gonna take care of Esme. That leaves Alice, Edward, and Rosalie."

"I'll handle Rose," Charlotte decided. "You should take Edward next. He's got to be in a bad way with his gift right now."

Peter nodded his agreement. "With Bella's help, I should be able to take care of Edward and Alice fairly quickly. Then we can start looking for the smaller chunks Jasper took out of us."

My gaze sought Jasper out at Peter's mention of him. He had, indeed, finished with Carlisle and moved onto Emmett. His expression hadn't changed nor had his emotions. They were holding steady in a cocktail of torment and suffering, and he couldn't seem to help projecting it all, like he wasn't in control of his gift.

Carlisle stood in place at the site of his reassembling, looking unsteady, disoriented, and slightly sick, staring off into the distance as he collected himself. I wondered how much of his current state was from being torn apart and put back together or from the overwhelming, all-encompassing fog of Jasper's emotions. However, it only lasted half a minute before he made a wobbly beeline toward the Esme pile and got to work.

Without another word and a determined look on her face, Charlotte veered toward the Rosalie pile while Peter and I moved toward Edward. We were respectful of handling him but just as efficient as we had been with Charlotte. In a matter of minutes, Edward was back together and sitting up from his seat on the ground.

"Alice—" he mumbled worriedly, eyes searching for her wildly while looking exactly like Carlisle had just a little while ago.

I laid a hand on his arm. "Edward," I said, trying to get his attention. He didn't look at me or acknowledge my presence. "Edward," I said, sharply this time. At this, he finally realized someone else was there with him. His gaze moved unsteadily to me.

"Alice—" he repeated desperately.

"We're going to take care of her, Edward," I promised. "Peter and I will have her back to you as soon as we can."

He swallowed roughly and nodded, still looking unbalanced and out of focus.

"He will be fine," Peter assured me, taking in my worried glance. "This is normal, especially for the first time. Plus, he's got his gift to get under control. Right now, he needs Alice, so let's get her back to him."

Putting Alice back together went smoothly and soon she was cradling Edward in her arms, trying to comfort him even as she looked discombobulated herself. It was easy to see that her presence settled Edward in a way he probably couldn't have achieved on his own.

Now that Alice was relatively whole and Alice-shaped again, I took the opportunity to take in the scene around me. Mates were clinging to each other like their mating bonds had been severed through their dismemberment and reformed when they were put back together. Charlotte stood next to Rosalie and Emmett, murmuring words I didn't bother to try to eavesdrop on.

"When you're torn apart, are you aware of what's going on around you?" I asked, still studying everyone.

"It depends on how badly you've been dismembered. Say you're only torn in half—you're more coherent but if you get your head taken off it's different. You have a sense of awareness but not a real good one. It's almost like a traumatic brain injury. Everything is unfocused and bleary, broken up. Sometimes things make sense as much as they can when you're so muzzy and sometimes they don't. Sometimes you can hear and sometimes you can't. Most of the time you can't talk. It's...uncomfortable."

"But does it hurt?" I asked, dreading the answer.

"It does at first, but it fades quickly. After that not really," Peter said. "It's more confusing than anything else."

I nodded distractedly. Everyone was mostly whole now, except for the little pieces we still had to hunt down, but I wasn't really concerned with that at the moment.

My eyes were drawn to Jasper, who was standing on the periphery, him on one side of the ruined property and the rest of the Cullens on the other, watching everyone just as I was. The look on his face was unreadable and his emotions were even more jumbled and chaotic. Everyone kept shooting him lingering glances, not even trying to hide their scrutiny, and the way they looked at him… most were looking at him as though he was a stranger and not the brother they had loved and cherished for nigh on a hundred years. They looked at him as though they were afraid of him. For the first time since I had met the Cullens, they were not the tight-knit clan of vampires I had come to know and love. For the first time, the family was divided.

It made me astonishingly, unbearably heartsick. I made my way to Jasper's side, standing as close to him as I dared, our shoulders not quite brushing, and stood tall and unafraid. I hoped it would be enough to show Jasper that he wasn't alone, that there was someone who wasn't afraid of him, someone who looked at him and still saw him. I hoped it would be enough to show the rest of them that they were wrong, that Jasper was still Jasper. I had the fierce desire to take his hand in solidarity and would have in a millisecond but I didn't know if my touch—anyone's touch—would be welcome right now. It might even make things worse, so I fought the impulse. That didn't stop my hand from twitching toward his. In an instant, Peter and Charlotte flanked us, showing their support.

The three of us standing with him settled his emotions some, calming the turmoil rolling off him enough to be noticeable. By now all of the remaining Cullens were openly staring at Jasper and Jasper alone, as if Peter, Charlotte, and I didn't exist. Edward and Carlisle were the only ones gazing at Jasper with even the slightest hint of compassion. Esme looked bewildered and cautious, not disapproving but not exactly empathetic either. Rosalie appeared torn between anger, fear, sorrow, disbelief, that sense of looking at someone she had never seen before, and something I couldn't quite place, each fighting for their dominance on her gorgeous features. When Alice wasn't looking at Jasper as though he was a stranger, her expression was one that displayed betrayal and hurt. Emmett looked like he was in shock, as in the medical definition of it, which made sense since Jasper had ripped into him the hardest and most viciously. It would have been easy to mistake all of these emotions as possible reactions to Savannah and her villainy, but to me there was no mistaking that they were meant for Jasper because their eyes were focused solely on him, not searching for the pile of body parts that belonged to the person who was truly to blame.

And Jasper stood there, absorbing his family's judgment. He still wasn't all there, definitely still not quite himself, and there were still those haunted and tortured qualities about him that spoke of his trauma and pain. Regardless, he could feel what they were feeling, and when he came back to himself fully, he would remember and he would know. He would know and he would punish himself for it.

Peter had come to the same realization as I had, moving to stand in Jasper's line of sight and courageously placing his hand on Jasper's shoulder. I could see the flex of muscle and tendon as he squeezed in a show of support. He stared Jasper straight in the eye for several long seconds and Jasper stared back, unblinking. I wondered if he truly saw his brother yet, but then Peter nodded and said, "It's okay. You did your part."

Jasper didn't respond in any noticeable way but he did wheel around and run, disappearing from view in a flash of near-incomprehensible movement, silent as he moved through the trees. I wish I knew where he was going and if he was coming back. He had to come back.

oOo

Not long after Jasper disappeared, Peter cornered me, separating me from the others and taking me on a walk like a man with purpose, presumably far enough away that the others wouldn't be aware of whatever Peter wanted from me.

"Did he hurt you?" Peter asked quietly. His concern was palpable, and I suspected that, while it was mostly for me, it was also for Jasper. He studied me closely, waiting.

"No," I lied. But it wasn't really a lie, was it? Not-Jasper had only really hurt me a little, not enough to even count. There was no reason anyone should have to know and worry when it didn't count.

I could tell that he wanted to be relieved by my convincing answer but couldn't be, not quite yet. He looked doubtful, as though he couldn't persuade himself that it was the truth. In the end, he seemed to accept that I was either being honest with him or that if I wasn't that Jasper hadn't hurt me badly enough to be worried over my mortality. His next words proved it. "Because if he did," he said significantly, "try not to hold it against him, please. He doesn't know how to be gentle when he's like that."

I nodded. "I wouldn't hold it against him," I promised, not responding to his uncertainty. "But he didn't hurt me, and I made sure he knew that."

"Good," Peter said, and then almost to himself, "that'll help center him when he comes down." He sucked his bottom lip between his teeth on one side and bit, attention elsewhere before he refocused on me. "How did you do it?"

"Do what?" I responded, confused. The lack of specificity meant there were many potential answers I could give him. At any rate, I wasn't sure what his question was referring to.

"How did you bring Jasper out of it?" he clarified, his expression and tone very serious.

My shoulders pulled up in a reflexive, aborted shrug, my broken bones and bruised tissue making a proper one impossible. I just barely managed not to hiss and successfully turned my 'ow' into an, "Uh…" Peter seemed to interpret this as reluctance, which wasn't too terribly far from the truth. "You don't know?"

Peter shook his head, impatient for just a second before his features turned grave and insistent. "Bella, it's important."

I inhaled, dread, uncertainty, shame, and guilt swirling in my gut. What would Peter think of me when I told him? Would I lose him too?

"Bella," he repeated, urgency coloring his tone. "Whatever it is that happened, I need to know."

However brave I may or may not have been, said bravery failed me. "Look, it was-it was stupid," I told him, avoiding his eyes. It hurt to look at Peter right then. "It was nothing...nothing worth getting all worked up about anyway."

Peter huffed in frustration and the beginnings of anger. "Bella," he said slowly, taking the time to enunciate, I suspected, to keep from yelling at me. "I don't care if it was stupid. I don't care if you think it was nothing. Hell, I don't care if you pulled down your pants and mooned him, I need to know what the fuck happened!"

I rubbed tiredly at my temples and forcefully exhaled, steeling myself. I couldn't keep this from him if it was making him this upset. "Um," I stalled. "I may have kissed him," I mumbled, words running together and lilted at the end as though I was asking a question and not confessing to being a horrible person and still unable to bring myself to see what his reaction was. After the words rushed out, my curiosity got the better of me—why was what I had done so important for Peter to know? "See? Stupid. Why does it matter?"

Peter's expression crumpled for a moment, shuttering the next. Despite this, his voice was full of gravity when he next spoke. "It matters more than you could ever know."

The heavy silence that commenced after that clearly significant but vague statement made me temporarily put aside my shame and guilt. "Peter?" I queried, trying to nudge him into explaining. He didn't respond just yet, weighing his words carefully. The seriousness and delicacy with which he was approaching what had happened scared me. Who was he protecting—Jasper? Or me? I couldn't say whether or not I needed protecting, but I knew Jasper deserved that right. "Peter," I repeated. "Why is this so important?"

"Bella," he said, again repeating my name but softly this time. "When Jasper has these episodes, nothing and no one can break him out of them."

"Then how—" I began, brow furrowing and mouth turning down into a frown.

"He's always had to come down on his own," Peter carried on, pained, and ignored my interruption. "It takes days and a lot of pain and destruction before that generally happens. Think about what he did to the house," he entreated, referring unnecessarily to the carnage he'd drawn me away from. "That is nothing compared to what he's truly capable of. It takes days," he repeated meaningfully. "You brought him down in minutes."

I was terrified to ask, but a part of me was desperate to understand. "What does that mean?"

"It means you're a fuckin' miracle," he proclaimed with something I refused to admit was close to awe. Then under his breath, "Better than I ever could have hoped for."

"I'm not," I disagreed with him, crestfallen. "I may have snapped him out of it, but I hurt him, Peter."

It was Peter's turn to frown and furrow his brow. He looked genuinely baffled. He didn't understand yet.

"Jasper doesn't like being kissed. He hates it, actually, which I'm sure you already knew. I'm sure you even know why," I said. I almost couldn't bring myself to look at him, but I had to be braver than that. "I don't know why. I don't need to know why, but I still know, and I did it anyway. He's gonna hate me."

"Punk," Peter began, "I do know why he's not okay with it. It's complicated and very much understandable, but darlin', he's not gonna hate you."

I shook my head, stubbornly refusing to let the tears that were building behind my eyes make their appearance. "It's one of those things he should have been able to give his permission for, and I couldn't even ask. I didn't even try."

"Bella, I am thrilled beyond words that you take his consent so seriously, but even if you had asked, he wouldn't have heard you," Peter told me gently. "He was too far gone. And I know you. If you knew he hated being kissed and that it could hurt him, you would have left that as a last resort and tried everything else you could think of before you used it."

I drew in a breath to argue, no intention of telling him he was right, but Peter didn't give me the chance. "You kissed him because he needed to be kissed. You brought him back. He'll be grateful...so don't be dramatic and self-flagellating about it. You don't deserve it and neither does he."

"I didn't know what else to do," I admitted, my voice cracking as I felt the stress and shock of the day fully for the first time. "I was in over my head and I was afraid of what would happen if I did nothing...I ran out of options." Peter listened intently, giving me his full attention, so I divulged another secret. "It's just, last night I made a promise to myself that I would never hurt him on purpose again. I want to believe you but believing you won't change the fact that it feels like I already broke it."

"I don't believe you broke your promise at all. What I think is that you're lookin' for excuses to feel guilty for whatever reason when there's nothing for you to feel guilty for," Peter admonished. "What you need to focus on is that you saved the day. We're all alive because you broke a promise."

I just stood there for a second, processing. I was having a hard time coming to terms with the idea that I maybe hadn't fucked up as badly as I thought I had. I certainly wanted to believe I wasn't such an unbelievable shitbag of a person that I would knowingly take away someone's choice, but I'd already worked hard at convincing myself I was exactly that. In the end, I decided to believe Peter over my over-inflated sense of guilt, but my worry over one thing still couldn't be dispelled. "Are you sure he's not going to hate me? Because I really don't want him to hate me."

"He could never hate you," he assured me confidently with a weight behind his words that I didn't understand.

Peter made it impossible not to believe him, but I wouldn't feel totally guilt-free until Jasper was here to confirm it. I had wasted enough time on my own shit though. There were still more important things than my apparently uncharacteristically fragile feelings. There were things I needed to know.

"Is he going to be okay?" I asked, my worry bleeding through. Ordinarily, I would have at least attempted to hide how concerned I was, but not this time.

Peter sighed. "He'll be real messed up for a while, but he will be fine eventually, and I won't let him face it alone. After I take care of a couple more things here, I'm goin' after him."

"Good," I stated, relieved. No one should be alone after everything that had gone down, especially not him.

"I've got his back, Bella," he promised. I nodded. I knew he did.

"Do you know when he'll be back?" I asked, trying to mask just how fearful I was that he wouldn't. A look of regret flashed across Peter's face before he could hide it. That look filled me with dismay. "Will he come back?"

"The answer to that question is more complicated than a simple yes or no," Peter answered soberly, looking pensive. "Things are different now, you see. The family knew about him, but they didn't understand. Now they've had a little taste of a side of him they had no real concept of, and they don't see him the same way. They're afraid of him, and when he comes back to himself fully, he'll know it. That will make it more difficult for him to come home but he doesn't generally run away from shit like this. He'll want to fix it somehow. He won't want to lose his family."

Peter gave me a significant look, as though there was something he wasn't saying and that I was supposed to know what that something was. I didn't.

"Has he lost you?" he asked, clarifying. I frowned at him, miffed. "Just because you don't want him to hate you doesn't mean you want anything to do with him."

"He hasn't lost me," I assured him, "but it's an easy decision for me to make. He didn't tear me apart with his bare hands."

"No, he did not," Peter agreed, "but he probably scared the bejeezus out of you. That may not be an easy thing for you to look past."

"I'm choosing to look past it," I told him firmly. That wasn't a difficult decision for me to make either.

"Good," he said, proud and relieved.

"What exactly is it that happened anyway?" I asked curiously. Peter may have felt the need to know what I had done to snap Jasper out of whatever this was, but I felt I had a right to know what had led to the need for me to do that in the first place. I had so many questions.

"Bella, I promise that you and I will sit down and have a conversation about this, and I will answer as many of your questions as I can, but now is not the time. There are other things we need to deal with first."

I could hear the prevarication in his words, though it was possible he didn't realize there was one. I will answer as many of your questions as I can, not I will answer all of your questions. He would only give me all of the facts he thought I needed to know, and right now wasn't the time to be angry about that because he was right. There were other things that needed to be dealt with first. The family needed to be put back together in a different way now. I had to do my best to help with that...that meant no leaving for the foreseeable future, at least not until all the pieces of this mess had been put back in order. I was needed here, and I needed to know that Jasper was okay. I needed to see him with my own two eyes at least one more time to prove it to myself. I would just have to be extra vigilant about watching my back. I had to be really careful about a lot of things from here on out in fact because if I wasn't, I might just end up never leaving at all.

oOo

Carlisle and Esme approached me not long after he finished talking with Peter. They both looked worn-down and still a little bit shell-shocked. For the first time since I met them, they didn't look totally calm, collected, and confident in themselves. Their usual sense of serenity and self-control was frayed and their convictions were shaken to the core.

"Peter assured me that you're fine—" Carlisle began to say.

"I'm not fine," I interrupted, just this side of rude, though unintentional. I was still a little off-kilter, but mostly okay. However, wouldn't a normal human be so far beyond fine after all of this? The next words I spoke were truth. "None of what's happened today is fine, but I'm not hurt."

"Would you consent to a brief examination?" he requested, hopeful. "The doctor in me won't rest easy until I can see it with my own two eyes."

"No," I refused, tone brooking no argument.

He didn't argue per se, but he couldn't give up and leave it alone either. He was too worried and he cared too much. "Bella, please…"

Carlisle so rarely asked anything of anyone that it was genuinely difficult to refuse him, but as much as I wanted to appease him, I couldn't. It wasn't even totally about the injuries I planned to keep hidden from everyone.

I blew out a breath, formulating my words carefully. I didn't actually want to talk about this, but I had to give him something. In this case, I decided on the truth—I was too tired to cook up anything else. "I know I've never explicitly said it, but I have a real problem with touching. I've made some exceptions in the past few days, and I'm at the point where I just...can't."

Carlisle blinked, possibly surprised I had spoken so candidly about a topic I typically avoided like the plague, before he schooled his expression into one of compassion and understanding. "Of course, Bella. I understand. Just know that you can come to me if you need to or if you change your mind. I'm here no matter what."

"Thank you," I expressed quietly, sounding a little more relieved than I intended to. "I really don't think I'm the one you need to worry about though. Everyone else needs you more than I do."

Carlisle cast his gaze to those he called his children and Peter and Charlotte before his eyes slid to Esme and then back to me. "There's really not anything I can do for them. Their physical wounds are already healed, and it's not their bodies I'm worried about."

I knew exactly what he meant. "No, I guess not."

"I have a PhD in psychology, but I'm not in the right position to help. I don't have the objectivity required to deal with this and with Edward's gift doctor-patient confidentiality would be impossible. Even then, I don't think I would know what to say to make it easier," he said.

"None of this will be easy," Esme murmured, finally joining the conversation. "If only it hadn't taken us by surprise…"

"We knew about Jasper's history," Carlisle said, melancholy. "Of course we knew. How could we not when it's written in his skin? But how could we know this? In all my years, I never could have imagined today."

No shit. It sure as hell wasn't where I imagined my day going when I rolled out of bed this morning. It wasn't even what I imagined when I decided to come to the house what felt like hours ago.

"Nobody ever imagines things like this, let alone that they will happen to them," Esme added sagely, wrapping her arms around herself in a gesture of self-comfort that I doubt actually did much. She sounded dejected. "Everything's different now. Everything."

"Only if we let it be," I said resolutely. "Things don't have to be different."

Except even as the words left my lips, I knew I was kidding myself.

Carlisle sighed, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes, hard. "If only it were that simple…"

Esme's expression turned sad. "Mates and family were ripped apart today. That's not easily forgotten."

There was nothing I could say to that. I was not a vampire nor was I part of a mated pair. I had no idea what it must have been like to watch someone you love dismember your soulmate and then wonder if there was a bonfire coming for you. I would never know what that was like. Just because I had witnessed Jasper's pain firsthand didn't mean what the others had gone through wasn't important, even if all my instincts screamed protect when it came to him. I couldn't play favorites…except it was too late for that, wasn't it? I'd had a choice earlier, and it was Jasper's side I chose. I wasn't entirely sure what that meant, except there was a little voice in the back of my mind that insisted I was full of shit. I resolutely did not listen to that voice.

"Maybe not forgotten, but can it be forgiven?" I asked, cautiously hopeful. The Cullens couldn't stay fractured forever. It just wasn't possible. They had to get past this. They couldn't let something like this break them. They couldn't abandon one of their own. They were better than that—they had to be. If someone had to remind them of that, it had to be me. After all, I had already chosen a side. It was my job to fight for it. "I may not have been here when all of this went down but I know this isn't Jasper's fault. He shouldn't have to pay for it."

"That's not really how it works, sweetheart," Carlisle stated gently. "Mates are a primal part of us, equal to our need for blood. Mating defies logic. It's the heart that matters with them, not the brain. We might be able to understand logically that it wasn't Jasper's fault, but trying to dispel the images of our mates in danger goes against the most ancient part of us. It will be awhile before we can calm down enough to process that this truly wasn't Jasper's doing. Part of the problem is that we don't really understand what happened."

"There's nothing to understand. This is a black and white situation. You either believe in him or you don't, and there should be no question about that," I argued.

"It will take time," Esme told me flatly.

"It shouldn't," I said, frustrated. "Look, I'm not trying to minimize or invalidate what happened to you, but you all saw him, you felt his emotions. I don't care about some primal, true love bullshit. This is cut and dried. He's not responsible for this! He's your fucking family! He's been your family for nearly 100 fucking years! You know better than this. You know him better than this. Fuck mates and mating bonds! They're bullshit!"

"Bella—" Carlisle began but I interrupted.

"If you need to hold someone responsible, she's right there," I said, pointing to the Savannah pile. "If everyone is so desperate to blame someone for this, they have to place it where it belongs because this sure as hell isn't on Jasper. This is Savannah's fault. She did this. She doesn't get to take his family away from him. She doesn't get to win. I won't let her."

"Savannah will receive her comeuppance, dear," Esme assured me calmly. "She signed her death warrant the moment she set foot in Forks. This just reinforces it. By the time she dies, she'll be sorry she ever laid eyes on us."

"Yes," Carlisle agreed. "And things with Jasper will get better. He won't lose us because of this. Our family will recover and our bond will be stronger than ever because that's the family I built. It's who we are. People are welcome to disagree, but those people will also be welcome to leave if they feel they must."

The conviction in Carlisle's words reassured me more than I thought possible. Now that I knew Jasper had someone else on his side, fighting for him, the situation didn't feel quite so hopeless.

oOo

PPOV

Jasper wasn't as difficult to track in his current state than he would have been under different circumstances. While he was more lucid than usual at this point after a God of War episode because of Bella—thank God for Bella—he still wasn't himself. He wasn't yet in control. His gift reigned supreme right now, emotions gripping him like a vise and choking the figurative life out of him. All he ever wanted when he transitioned to this state, some purgatory where he was neither Jasper nor the Major nor the God of War, was to find somewhere to hide away while he recovered his wits and came back to himself. He would instinctively look for a place with good cover and great sightlines, somewhere dark, cool, and quiet. There he would wait out the sensory and emotional overload that plagued him until it quieted and became easier to bear. There were a lot of places that could fit the bill, so while he wasn't as difficult to track, I still had a lot of ground to cover and search.

It took me an hour to find him, and he was in precisely the sort of hidey-hole I had predicted. Said hidey-hole was closed in on three sides with large slabs of rock covered in moss. It just so happened that this particular den was big enough for me to join him in it without crowding him, but I wouldn't just go pushing my way inside without his permission. I sat outside of it, laying the bag with the clothes I brought him and the blood Carlisle kept for him—bags still intact despite the damage to the house—in a mini-freezer container in my lap, to the side of the mouth of the mini-cave so that Jasper could still see out, waiting for the sign that it was acceptable for me to join him inside. The sign was almost never the same except that it was always in ASL. Jasper was nonverbal in the aftermath of the God of War. He simply could not talk until he reached a certain point in his recovery from it. After noticing the trend several decades ago, Jasper, Charlotte, and I decided to try learning ASL to see if he could use it as a way to communicate during those times when he couldn't speak. It had worked. He couldn't always manage it, but he was able to use it often enough that it was worth the trouble.

For a full twenty-four hours, I sat listening to the unique cacophony of the forest, paying rapt but subtle attention to my brother, and going over and over the events of the previous day. I had no idea what Savannah did to finally push Jasper over the edge, but it had to have been bad if she'd managed to trigger the God of War, even though that had been coming on for a long time. There had only ever been one person who could bring him out in a snap—Maria. She had as much control over that aspect of Jasper as anyone could, which wasn't a whole lot. It was enough though.

Jasper himself had very little control over when the God of War came out to play. He couldn't bring him forward in the space of a breath. He never told me what triggered the shift from one to the other, but I still knew—traumatic memories and flashbacks. When we first got him out of the Southern Wars, it happened all the time. Charlotte and I would spend days in pieces until he came back to put us back to rights, unless he left me whole enough to drag myself to my body parts and put myself back together. We tried to stay as far away from civilization to prevent civilian casualties and property destruction worthy of a visit from the Volturi. We weren't particularly afraid of the self-proclaimed vampire royalty, but none of us needed the headache their presence would bring.

Over the years, as Jasper put some distance between himself and his trauma, it happened less and less. It was down to about three times a year now, and it was anybody's guess as to what brought the episodes on, but Jasper still hadn't figured out how to control it. I was all but certain he's never really tried, more prone to pretending that part of him didn't exist because he didn't like to think about how that part of him came to be. I didn't like to think about it either for his and also my own sake, but someone needed to pay attention to these episodes and it had to be me. I wouldn't let it fall to Charlotte because it wasn't her burden to bear. By the time she'd come around, the God of War was already fully formed and well-established. She hadn't been there for his bloody, tortured beginning, though she hadn't escaped his "maintenance." She didn't need that kind of responsibility. It was mine and mine alone, so I kept careful records in my head, trying my best to put the clues together. The problem was that I didn't have the whole picture, and therefore not all of the clues, most of the time. This time was no different from the others. That didn't keep me from trying to puzzle it out though, and that's what I would spend my time doing until Jasper came back to me.

In the end, we spent six days and nights sitting in Jasper's mini-cave just existing together. Jasper had moved exactly once in that time, going from staring straight ahead like a statue to leaning his head back against the dirty rock and closing his eyes. I had moved quite a bit more just to give Jasper the occasional physical reminder that I was there with him in case he got too lost in his own head. My job was to act as a grounding presence for him to grab onto as he recovered. It was a toss-up who would return first: Jasper or the Major. I didn't know who I was hoping for more. In the end, I suppose it didn't really matter which of them came back first or if it would be some amalgamation of the two. They would both be disinclined to share jack shit with me about what triggered our little encounter with the God of War. I wondered if he would ask what happened after this time. Sometimes he did and sometimes he didn't. I didn't know which would be worse this time, helping him to remember what he'd done or leaving him in the dark. I wouldn't have to say a damn word for him to know it was bad, and I felt a vicious, all-consuming need to protect him from it because this time was different, so very different. Then there was the matter of the kiss…I needed him to remember the kiss. I knew it was horrifically bad timing, but he needed to start dealing with the fact that he had a mate and that his mate was here, now, and present in his life. I didn't have high hopes for his reaction to that considering everything that had gone down with Savannah, but I figured I could help ease him into it. The fact that his mate was Bella would either make things infinitely better or infinitely worse. While it was true he was already in love with her, he had been under the impression that it was a temporary state of being. Mates were very much permanent.

Before my thoughts could go any further down that rabbit hole, Jasper spoke, voice sounding like he'd swallowed broken glass, "How long?"

"Seven days," I informed him, placing the bag with the clothes and blood within his reach. He ignored it for now.

Jasper digested that information for a bit and then remained silent for a long time after.

"How bad?" he asked, anticipating the worst. I was almost surprised he bothered to ask at all.

"Bad," I answered honestly. He nodded, having his suspicions confirmed.

"All of them?" he inquired tonelessly, expression apathetic. He was anything but, but he was stretched too thin. He was drained, pretty much everything he had put into the before and the after. Despite his seeming indifference, he couldn't keep from bracing himself, giving away just how much he cared.

"Yeah," I confirmed, wishing I could tell him something different. He never appreciated anything but the truth, especially in situations like this, and I couldn't deny him now. Not after everything. He deserved the truth.

Jasper grimaced and then sighed, shaking his head. "I never wanted this for them," he said regretfully, his gift projecting just how much. "I always tried to protect them from it. They were innocent."

"In a way, yes, they were," I agreed. "But you couldn't keep this from them forever."

"I sure as hell was gonna try," he said vehemently. "I never wanted this for them."

"I know," I said. "Neither did I, but in a way it's better. You don't have to hide yourself from them anymore."

"I was fine with hidin' it," he told me irritably. "But if it had to come out sometime, I didn't want it to happen like this."

"It was always gonna happen like this, man," I said, trying to be kind about it even though it was a harsh fact. "You don't have control over the God of War. It always would have ended like this. At least with it happening now, you've got Savannah to blame. That'll help make it easier for them."

"Everything is different now," Jasper lamented, resigned.

I nodded. Now it all rode on the Cullens and their ability to be kind and forgiving, understanding and accepting, in spite of the fact that each other's mates had nearly died at Jasper's hand. Would they place the blame where it belonged? I had faith that they would. It was just a matter of how long it took them to see that Jasper was a victim just as much as they were. I would be sure to help them along as much as I could.

I nudged the bag Jasper had been ignoring up until this point until it collided with his leg. He continued ignoring it.

"How bad?" he repeated, as though reading my mind.

"Not good," I told him, wishing I could tell him something different already, "but they can handle it. Given some time, I'm sure they will bounce back and everything will smooth out. It won't be exactly the same as before, but it won't be bad. Hell, it might even be better."

"You're too fuckin' optimistic," Jasper complained.

"Someone has to be," I almost teased, but it wasn't the right time. "Don't forget I'm also a realist. If I didn't think the Cullens could handle it and move beyond it, I would say so. They just need time to process. They had no idea you were such a terrifyingly badass motherfucker."

Jasper nodded. I nudged the bag more insistently.

"How long have you known about Bella?" he asked after a while. I could tell it cost him to ask it.

"Since you saved her from Tyler Crowley's van," I admitted honestly. It was finally time to come clean, and even if that wasn't the case, I had no other choice. Bella had unknowingly made sure of that.

Jasper nodded again, processing this. His expression was thoughtful. "You didn't tell me."

It wasn't an accusation, but it still felt accusatory in a way. "Are you mad at me for that?"

"Nah," Jasper said. "You always have your reasons for doin' the shit you do. I trust you."

And that was like a punch to the throat. Did I even deserve Jasper's trust after everything?

"I didn't hurt her," Jasper said a while later, very clearly uncertain and anxious. "Do I remember that right?"

"No, you didn't hurt her," I assured him, still not 100% sure that was true. What I did know was that he would never hurt Bella on purpose, and even if he had, it was more the God of War's inability to handle things with tenderness than any malicious intent.

"I could have killed her," he lamented miserably. "What was she even doing at the house?"

"You wouldn't have killed her," I assured him confidently.

"Peter…" Jasper warned, eyes narrowed and mouth pressed into a thin, angry line

"I didn't take the time to ask her why," I replied, not truly feeling guilty about it. If she hadn't come to the house, we all would have died. Even Jasper, in his venom-soaked clothes, would have burned if he got too close to the flames.

Jasper gave me a look.

"I don't particularly care why she came to the house when she ended up savin' us all because of it," I responded unapologetically.

Jasper crossed his arms over his chest and expelled air through his nose like an angry bull.

I let him stew for a while, waiting him out before I pounced.

"So… I know you've been through some shit the past week or so but...mates... Thoughts?"

Jasper dug his hand into the soil and flexed his fingers, dropping his gaze to watch the movement. I watched him carefully, expecting anger, denial, resistance, obstinacy...I did not get what I was expecting.

"When you and Charlotte left, Savannah took care of me after Maria did what Maria always does," he revealed hesitantly, eyes still resolutely fixed on his hand in the soil.

I nodded guardedly. There was no way this was going anywhere good. I almost didn't want him to continue, not wanting to face the horror I had abandoned him to. He deserved for me to hear it though and I deserved to suffer with the knowledge of my failings.

"She bound me to her on top of the bond she made between Maria and me. She got really good at it. It was always just strong enough to earn my compliance without breakin' my bond with Maria. After Savannah was done, she restrengthened my bond with Maria so much so that it overrode the bond between her and me like it was never there, and she did this over and over again. Maria knew, of course. She allowed it. It was one of her games, lettin' Savannah manipulate me like that. Lettin' someone else use me as long as I still ultimately belonged to her. She let Savannah do whatever she wanted."

My head fell into my hands as I processed this information. 'Do whatever she wanted' could mean so many things. I didn't really want to contemplate exactly what he meant by it. My guilt for leaving him alone for five years hit me like a ton of bricks. This was my fault, but I could deal with that later. This wasn't about me. It was about Jasper and he needed me to listen, not berate myself.

"I've had two mates in my life already," Jasper said. "Both fake, I know. I do know that…but they used me and tortured me and did whatever they wanted with me for decades. That's what I know about mates, but here's what else I know—Bella would never do that to me. Bella would never use me or hurt me deliberately like that."

"No, she wouldn't," I agreed, thinking back on the promise she made to herself about precisely that and how seriously she took it.

Jasper huffed a laugh. "My true mate is Bella," he said to himself. "Of course, it's Bella."

I gave a little laugh myself. "I've been waitin' and wonderin' about the woman who would come into your life and turn it upside down in the best way possible. Who would twist you up into knots and drive you crazy and love you the way you deserve to be loved. For a fuckin' century and a half! I built her up in my head sometimes, tryin' to picture what she would be like. I couldn't have chosen better myself. The two of you are gonna be great together. This is your shot at happy, Jasper. You deserve it, so you damn well better grab onto it with both hands and never let go."

"I'll work on being okay with mates," he promised. "The idea doesn't make me miserable like I always thought it would after everything that's happened, and it certainly doesn't change that I'm in love with her. I think all I need is a little time to get used to the whole thing. I think it will be worth it. I think she's worth it."

"Yes, she is," I said, "and she can handle all of your shit, Jasper. She proved it today. She was cool as a cucumber through all of it. I mean, shit, she handled the God of War and came out unscathed, and she stood by your side and stared down the rest of the family in your defense. She was worried about you after too, hopin' you're gonna be okay. She's perfect."

Jasper took all of that in silently.

"She's got a lot of questions though," I told him. "What do you want me to tell her?"

"Don't lie to her," he said. "I trust you to use your better judgment, but there are things that she should hear from me, so don't go into much detail about me if you can help it."

"That's gonna be tough, man," I said.

"You can handle it," he said.

We sat there for a while, not talking, just being. It was peaceful, not fraught with emotion and misery like so much of the last week. It was nice, but something was driving me crazy.

"Do you remember anything?" I asked, trying to act nonchalant. I felt like a teenage girl begging her BFF for the latest juicy gossip, but I wanted to know if he remembered the kiss, damn it!

Jasper frowned. "For the most part, no, just like always." Which I counted as a blessing. He didn't need the memory of tearing his family apart in addition to the guilt of it.

"But you do remember something," I guessed.

"Everything is fuzzy from after, which is unusual since I never feel that way until so much later. It felt like I was human and drowning and I couldn't take a breath, and then suddenly my head broke through the surface of the water for just a second and everything was crystal clear. Then I got dragged back under and everything went FUBAR again."

"What do you think was different?" I questioned, trying to sound innocent.

Jasper gave me another look.

"All right, stupid question," I said. "But seriously, what do you remember?"

Jasper squished the mud between his fingers. "I kissed Bella," he said quietly, almost shy, definitely hesitant. "Or Bella kissed me. I don't know which, just that we kissed."

I gave him a shit-eating grin, and Jasper rolled his eyes. "Shut up, Peter."

My grin turned into a smirk. "So…" I trailed off slyly. "How was it?"

He glared at me but it was ineffectual. He sighed, put upon, but the corners of his mouth made a valiant attempt at curling up. "It was awful but it was perfect," he admitted, smiling finally despite his words. "She was tense and awkward, our lips were out of synch, she was tentative, I was too intense, caught up in my instincts, and I think both of us were totally overwhelmed. It was perfect," he repeated, sighing the sigh of a lovesick man. But then he frowned and his face twisted into regret. "Fuck! That was her first kiss! Goddamnit! Her first kiss should have been special and mind-blowing, not this ridiculous, stressful, confusing fuckin' mess!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," I said calmly, placating. "I don't think you have to worry so much about it, man. Sure the circumstances weren't ideal and it wasn't the greatest kiss, but whose first kiss is ever storybook perfect? Honestly, it wasn't even a romantic kiss. It was a necessary kiss to snap you out of being the God of War. That's not really a kiss that communicates love and adoration. I don't think either of them count, not in the way you're so worried about."

Jasper breathed a sigh of relief and smiled again, small and shy. "The next time I kiss her it will be different. I'm gonna sweep her off her feet."

I smiled genuinely. "So there's gonna be more kisses then, huh?" I prodded.

If Jasper was human he would have blushed. "I hope so," he revealed wistfully.

"Are you gonna tell her she's your mate before or after you attempt all this kissin' you're plannin'?" I asked.

Jasper bit the inside of his lip in thought, scrunching his brow in concentration.

"One thing at a time, Peter," he said seriously, strategizing. "First I need to tell her I'm in love with her. Hearin' that will be enough to overwhelm her at first, and I won't push her too far too fast. I will tell her she's my mate when she's had enough time to accept my feelings for her and maybe admit to herself that she has feelings for me too because I really think she does, and if she doesn't, I'll do whatever I need to do to get her to fall in love with me. If I tell her she's my mate now, it'll spook her. She'll run so fast she'll leave skid marks on the floor. I'm not willin' to risk that."

"That's smart," I told him.

"I have no other choice but to be smart about it," Jasper said. "I feel like I only have one shot at this. I can't fuck this up. I can't lose her before I ever even have her."

"That's not gonna happen," I assured him. My gift had been telling me that since the beginning.

He nodded, trusting me, and relaxed back against the rock wall.

"How are you feelin'?" I asked tentatively. I usually didn't have to ask, but this time was different. This time there was Bella.

"Like all my insides have been scooped out, thrown into a blender and then shoved back into my body with no regard for what gore goes where. My brain feels like someone scrambled the shit out of it, and I still feel dizzy and faint, like I'm still not all there up here," he said, pointing to his temple. "I still feel like I'm not quite me yet, my gift isn't totally back under my control, and my whole body fuckin' aches from all the emotions I couldn't keep in check after Bella and I kissed. In other words, I feel like complete and utter shit."

"Drink," I commanded firmly, pushing the bag at him again. He needed the sustenance if he was going to recover properly, and human blood would work better than animal. Plus, I wasn't going to hunt down a woodland creature and drop it at his feet like some kind of subservient offering. I generally followed his lead, but hell no. I was not doing that.

Jasper didn't argue, grudgingly unzipping it and digging through its contents, extracting a bag of blood and ripping the top open with his teeth. He took measured, careful sips, only making a face at the first mouthful. After he finished, he took another and drank it with the same precise slowness as the first. He refused a third, so I asked, "Better?"

He shrugged. "Kept it down," he stated needlessly. "Think it'll stay down."

"Good," I enthused as brightly as I could manage given the situation, which meant it was not exuberant by any means. I hoped he was right because he needed that blood. He'd been starving before all this shit went down and that had been nearly a week ago. He couldn't afford to not keep anything down even less than before.

My smile was sad for a moment, mourning his misery, but then it turned sadistic. "We didn't put Savannah back together," I told him, excited to hear what he had to say about that, what his plans would be.

Jasper scowled. "She's done," he growled. "I have no more pity for her, no more guilt, no more patience, nothing, not after—"

I could see that he visibly had to restrain himself from spitting out what she had done to knock him over the edge.

"I want her gone," he said.

"You gonna come home and do the honor yourself?"

"No," he replied. "I can't...I just can't after what she did. I've had more of her than I can take. I don't want to risk her pullin' anymore of her bullshit. We're not goin' down that road again. I won't risk Bella. I have to stay away if we don't want another visit from the God of War."

"If you don't want to risk it, we can just burn her body and get it over with," I said.

"No," Jasper commanded firmly. "I want her conscious and clear when she burns, and I want her to notice that I didn't care about her enough to be there to watch. Other than that I don't care who does it or how, just get it done," he ordered.

"Will do, Major," I replied seriously.

He returned his gaze to me, his focus laser-like. "Peter."

"Yeah?" I questioned curiously, wondering what else there was to discuss.

"Don't make it all about me. Make her pay for all she's done to you too. That's my only condition."

"I will get it done," I promised him. "How long will you be gone?"

"I dunno," he said.

"Be mindful of how long you stay gone," I warned. "You've been feeling the bond for months now, even if you didn't realize what it was. Being away from Bella is gonna hurt like a bitch, and it will only get worse the longer you stay away."

"I've survived worse," Jasper said. "I can handle it."

"Maybe you can," I allowed, "but testing a mating bond is a special kind of pain, especially an unsealed one, and it's not just about you—Bella will be feeling it too and we don't know how that will affect her. Keep that in mind."

"Of course, I will," he assured, sounding hurt that I thought he wouldn't. "But I don't have any choice in this. The family needs time, and so do I. I need to come to grips with what I've done and what it means for all of us. I need to find a way to be okay with havin' a real, actual, true mate and what that means for me and for Bella. I need to get right with that before I can do anything about it. There's also some other really important shit I need to take care of."

The hard look on Jasper's face spoke volumes. "And what might that be?" I asked, even though I already knew. "Where are you goin'?"

"To finish it," he said.

The smile that curved my mouth was broad and sharp, all teeth and malice. It was about fuckin' time. "Give Maria my regards."