Nine

Jasper and Emmet waited at the main house. They were both restless and uneasy, uncomfortable in their new roles, responsibilities including sitting back at the main house, and waiting, when both were accustomed to be the protectors of the family. Their nerves were further tightened when both had to deal with Rosalie, who paced like a caged lion, her fists clenched, and perfectly quaffed hair swaying down her back. Emmet knew enough to stay away from her when she liked this, while Jasper busied himself with projecting calm onto the entire house.

Rosalie could tell what Jasper was doing, and she growled, "Stop that! I'm her aunt, I should be down there."

"Babe, this isn't going to help Nessie," Emmet reasoned. He had hoped to sooth her, but she remained on edge.

Jasper centered himself, taking the equivalent of a human deep breath and cultivated calm, again. Rosalie growled once more, but Jasper only found it funny. His gift affected everyone in different ways, but Rosalie had the hardest vinier to crack out of all of his siblings. Alice presented her own set of challenges, but Rosalie could be impossible at times.

Jasper could sense Alice a few seconds before she came through the door—they had been married for over fifty years and there was something distinct in her foot steps that gave her away. He liked to believe that it was his soul reaching out to hers, the distance that had only seconds ago, been a string pulled taught was now loosening to a bearable degree.

He was on his feet in an instant, pushing himself toward the back door where she had just slid in. Her coat was wet, and her shoes were dirty. He peeled her jacket off and touched her face, reassuring her as much as himself. Her eyes said enough, it's not good, they seem to say, I saw something, I need you. He held her tightly. His joy was unapologetic in this chaotic scene.

"Alice?" Rosalie said, her name all but spat from her sister's lips.

Jasper felt Alice tense.

"…Rose," she tried to explain.

"No!" It was a bark, a yell loud enough to be heard in the center of town. Hopefully the locals mistook it for more thunder. Rosalie lifted her hand and smashed it down onto the countertop, shattering the granite surface as though it were made of the thinnest glass. Shards of debris scattered across the floor, rolling like bowling balls toward the floor to ceiling windows. They shattered in turn, causing the house to rattle like the howl of a great storm.

As quickly as the room erupted in violence it was quickly stilled again. Emmet finally broke the silence, his index finger lazily pointed at the mess his wife had made. "Esme's going to be really upset when she sees this. Not only are you going to have to explain yourself but she will make you clean this up."

"Alice?" There was less fire in Rosalie's voice but it was still venomous. "Tell me what you saw?"

Jasper stepped in front of Alice while Emmet moved closer to Rosalie, both of them sensing the tension that seemed to be filling the room with every second. It was raining outside and the floor was wet now, while the wind howled.

"Carlisle is with her, Rose. He's doing everything he can. Edward is feeding her his blood, now. They're going to try."

Jasper tried to reflect understanding. He knew projecting calm toward Rosalie was useless. "It's not her fault, Rosalie."

Alice flinched behind him; Jasper could feel it. Although she would never admit it to the rest of their family, she felt at odds with her gift often. As much as she relied on it and utilized it to her advantage, there was still a part of her, a deep resses from her human years, that was ashamed of it and frightened by what it was cable of.

Emmet spoke up, taking up enough space in front of Rosalie so that she could see nothing else. "No one caused this, Rose. If something bad happens to Ness it's no one's fault and everyone is doing everything they can to help her."

Rosalie was hissing again, spitting angry words toward Emmet, who stood and took them, because he understood that she was in pain. Finally, she said, "I'm going down there."

She disappeared in a blur of angry chaotic movement.

Emmet turned to Jasper and Alice, "I'm going to go after her."

Jasper kept his hold on Alice, wanting to tether her closer, if only he could. The wind howled again, and they both seemed to realize simultaneously how destroyed the house was. Luckily, it wasn't unusual for a house full of vampires to break a window or two, and they had long ago invested in spares, which they kept upstairs in the attic. Jasper gestured for Alice to sit in one of the chairs, seeing the exhaustion that her visions had caused her, and made quick work of bringing the large windows down and glazing them into place. They were short by one, and disappearing to the garage quickly, he found enough ply board to cover the gap, keeping the weather out. A trip to Newton's General Store in town would be due, soon. But for now, this would work, and hopefully not destroy any more of Esme's priceless antiques.

He moved to Alice's side again, putting his lips to her forehead. Trying desperately to feel close to her again.

"You're trembling," he said, noticing how her hands were shaking. She looked at him, terror in her eyes. "I won't ask you what you saw. I know it's too hard to relive that."

Alice sank into his arms again, thankful for his understanding.

Jasper stood, taking her with him. She rested her head inside the crook of his neck. When Jasper projected peace she hummed in admiration, and when he projected joy, he felt her smile against his neck. Keeping her in his arms he took the stairs upward two steps at a time, then he turned the corner until he was inside their bedroom.

Alice enjoyed whimsical things and the bed was a four poster with lush dove-gray curtains pulled back at the sides. He kissed her forehead again and one handedly turned the faucet on the bathtub on, letting the steam curl up to their faces. Still projecting calm for her, he sat her down on the counter, letting her keep her arms around his neck while he disrobed her, pulling off shoes and socks first, then the well-worn jeans that felt velveteen and so soft under his hands. He kissed each eyelid in turn, distracting her enough to pull her shirt off. She rarely wore a bra, and today was no exception, she pushed herself tightly against him and he let his hands stretch out across her back, feeling the planes of her muscles.

"I love you," he reassured her, as he gestured for her to wrap her legs around his middle so he could take her to the tub.

She took his cheek in hand and kissed his jawline, making him shiver.

When he was at the base of the tub, she lowered her legs, toes and ancles and calves dripping into the steaming water. When he tried to pull away to let her sink down, she pulled him back.

"Do you want me to stay?" He asked, one eyebrow raised suggestively.

"Stay close."

He touched his lips to her forehead again. "Where else would I be?"

She released him, and sank silently into the water. The tub was deep and thick, big enough for two, but Alice stretched out unapologetically. Letting the water come up to her chin while the rest of her body sank down. Her head finally clearing.

Guilt was something that Alice and Jasper both understood all to well. Alice was forever ridden with apprehension for the danger that she saw, and Jasper, was still holding onto the guilt for actions he did over a hundred years ago, starting with his time in the Confederacy, and continuing onward with every life he had taken as a vampire.

While she soaked, Jasper pulled her clothes up from the floor where he had discarded them, smiling to himself when he noticed that her eyes had closed with ease and relaxation.

Their bedroom was larger than the rest of the family assumed. They had their bedroom, which, other than Alice's unique style, could have looked like anyone else's. Like Edward, Jasper enjoyed music, and his antique victrola sat in the corner of the room near the window. Stained glass reminded Alice of her human years and their bedroom was decorated in expensive Tiffany lamps—the lush purples and greens giving off a soft glow that always reminded Jasper of home. Beyond the bedroom was a double door into the closet, which unsurprisingly was the size of an entirely second bedroom. There was wall to wall shelving and hanging clothes stretched the length of it. Jasper was not one for fashion. He was comfortable in a t-shirt and Levi's jeans, whereas Alice had an outfit to describe every mood she ever could or ever would have. Beyond the closet was a secret hidden door leading to another bedroom that they shared, this one quiet and still and dark, just a mattress on the floor with a projector set up in one corner to steam their favorite classic films—Jasper enjoyed the old James Cagney thrillers, whereas Alice loved anything with Katherine Hepburn. The room was decorated with tiny white fairy-lights which ran up and down the walls like trailing ivy. It was their sanctuary, the place they went away to, when they only wanted it to be the two of them.

Jasper tilted the hamper lid open, and dropped Alice's clothes inside. Gently he fingered some of the clothes that she kept in the closest, trying to imagine which outfit she would like to put on when she stepped out of the bath.

"Not that shelf," Alice yelled from the other room, her otherworldly senses seeing what he would do even before he knew it himself.

"This one," he called out, pointing to the shelf on his left, "or this one," his other hand pointed to the shelf on the right.

Alice replied back, "Left."

Jasper grinned, taking the few steps to his left, this portion of the closet was for his clothes. Soft well-worn cotton short sleeve shirts and his baggy sweatpants that he liked to wear on their lazy days. He pulled a white t shirt off the hanger, loving the way she looked in white, and then he grabbed a pair of grey sweatpants.

Just as he was about to turn, clothes in hand, to go back into the bathroom, he heard her sharp intake of breath. Jasper stilled, only for the briefest moment, dropping the clothes he had so carefully chosen to the ground, and rocking back on his heels, he sprinted from the closet, through the bedroom, and into the bathroom.

When he got there, he was greeted with Alice hanging over the side of the tub, as though she had tried to get out but something was preventing her. Her fingers were digging into the porcelain of the tub, knuckles white.

"Alice," he said, and in an instant, he was on his knees in front of her, coaxing her to release her grip on the tub and relax.

"Jaz," she sounded so lost, and he kissed the top of her shoulder, trying to center her.

"I'm here," he soothed. He told her over and over until she finally seemed to relax. "Was it about Renesmee?" He asked, when he noticed that she had relaxed enough to wrap her arms around his neck. Her wet cheek was molded to the side of his neck. "Tell me?"

Alice spoke raggedly. "It wasn't Renesmee."

She held onto him even tighter. "What then?"

"It's our Denali cousins. They're coming…" she took a steadying moment, "Here… With the Vulturi."