A/n Will probably go back and italicize anything with I, I'm bad about fixing it on this platform because my first upload is the ao3. Happy reading lemme know in the comments what you think :)

"Holy f-" She came to consciousness with a start. Peter.

Peter fucking -

She can't even think the word.

It's unfathomable.

She looks up. Glaring at God. Or Satan. Or whoever is fucking doing this. She was supposed to die. Not Peter. Never Peter. Her eyes are filling to the brim, shedding tears she doesn't want and her lungs thicken and she can't breathe because Peter isn't — because Peter fucking died. She pauses. Breathes. Pauses.

Holds her breath.

Pauses.

Screams. Hits her wheel as she kicks her legs out and twitches like she's a junky having a bad trip as she desperately tries to get it all out non-verbally and spiritually and metaphorically and every-fucking-thing wordless thing inbetween. It's the type of screaming that doesn't make a sound. It doesn't need to.

She might be onto something. Mainly, a new form of sign language only made out of swear words – which is more than she's gotten done in the last ever-never-why won't it fucking end week-adjecent-day. Because that's what this is. The shortest week. The longest day. It was a circle of hell that Dante wrote about only to delete because it was too malicious and vague to put in his self-insert fanfiction. Because he didn't win in the end. Nobody did.

She bangs her head against the wheel, letting out another choked sob and she throws her head back up.

"Bella?" Jasper Whitlock growls from the hood of her shitty truck.

"JASPER." She screams, already opening the door, as her heart gallops.

"Peter." His voice claims the same shock she had felt moments prior. Except it's worse. It's Jasper who's falling apart, Jasper who doesn't falter, because he listened to his brother die. Bella knows Peter means more than the Cullens. Means something different. The way they were bound – she can't imagine that relationship not being intense. It was war.

The far off glaze in his eyes tells her it still is war.

She reaches him, hands already clinging, assuring herself that it isn't just her anymore, that she doesn't have to be alone — but Jasper stares at the hood of the car like everything he knew was wrong – like he has been irreversibly changed.

He was shaking, she realizes too late, his voice comes out as a sob, "Peter, fuck — bunny, call him, call him right now -"

It's his brother. Fuck – it's his brother, I have to get him somewhere safe that he can break down and we can call Peter.

She tries to reassure him, to let him know he has support, that if she wasn't crazy then neither was he and that everything would go back because of the loop. "I will, Jasper, just calm down -"

"I can't shit, holy damn, is he okay he -"

"Jasper, it'll be okay I promise."

"Nothing feels okay right now."

Even though she didn't think things were necessarily 'alright', she knows Jasper needs someone to tell him they are. Jasper needs a liar and she can do that for him. He had been so strong for her – but now she could be strong too. She would have to be.

"Jasper," she turns his face to look at her, squishing his cheeks together (well almost, they were a bit stone-like which didn't contribute to any good cheek smooshing skills), "you're not alone in this."

He cradles her wrist with one hand, breathing deeply in and out, to a rhythm only he could know. "Thank you, bunny." He says as his golden eyes flash open.

She grins back. Is it bad that I'm still happy that he remembers, when it causes him this much pain?

"Bella?" A voice calls from behind.

"Bella's busy." She murmures back distractedly. They need to call Peter, that's first on the list. They could go to Montana and see him, she has a feeling Jaspers' going to be freaking out anyways until he sees his brother. It wasn't a far plane ride – they might even be able to swing it driving. Not in her truck. Maybe the bikes? Fuck the bikes don't exist now. Her eyebrows scrunch. She doesn't actually know what type of car Jasper owns. He sort of has horse vibes. But that could be the cowboy stereotype at work.

So they'll go to Montana and figure it out from there, they can call the Volturi during Aro's hours. Wait – can they? It's 2am to 6am, she hasn't been able to last that long. Wait – time difference okay, fuck, they really did just miss it last time. 8pm to 2am is her window to get in touch, otherwise, well, they'll just have to figure it out. Maybe they could call again and get someone other than the secretaries number? Might be quicker – but also more difficult. She'll wing it. That's what she's been doing so far and it's been going really well.

"Why are you holding Jasper?" The voice continues.

"Shhhh, I'm thinking." She responds under her breath.

She pulls her sleeve down, checking to see if the tattoo survived. She nearly does a double take when she sees it. It looks - well it looks –

"That looks really gross." Jasper Whitlock and his big mouth comment. His hand moves towards it like he wants to poke it. She slaps it away. Apparently, he was feeling a bit better.

"Shut the fuck up." She replies on autopilot. It's a soft 'shut the fuck up'.

It's healing, she knows this is how tattoos heal. She can still see the numbers; yeah, maybe they're a little scabbed over and not pleasant looking, but for a first tattoo? She'd give herself a solid C. At least that means two things –

"Bella, is that a tattoo?"

– stupid questions don't deserve responses – okay that means two things, she can contact the Volturi and tattoos work. And now she has Jasper too; he can remember stuff and be roped into all of her plans! Working out the travel and contacting Peter –

"Bella –"

She turns on her heel with a glare, "WILL YOU JUST – Edward." She pauses feeling awkward.

Edward Cullen stood in the middle of the parking lot with his stupid face and stupid hair and stupid interruptions. She really doesn't have time for this.

"You did something new with your hair." He quietly observes.

She whirls back to Jasper. Out of sight out of mind out of sight out of mind out –

"It looks…interesting." Edward boyishly flirts. Out of sight out of mind out of sight out of –

Edward's hands close around her shoulders. He pets her. Like a dog. "Happy birthday, my love." Note to self, Jasper and I are never arguing in the parking lot again. I fucking - can't - with this. She clenches her fists, the half moon divots are back, cutting into her palms with renewed fervour.

"Cake." She spits out. The words drop from her mouth before she's actually processed them, but she isn't disappointed at all. It's worked before – why not now?

She gives him a too tight smile. "I'm allergic to red velvet; I can't eat Esme's cake."

His head tilts to the side. He has his 'oh silly, Bella' look. She hates that look. "How'd you know what type of cake she made?" He presses.

"Alice told me." She throws back.

He stares at her dumbly. "Alice told you that Esme made a cake you're allergic too?"

I need him out of here. Jasper can't handle this. Or maybe he can but – he shouldn't have to. They need to contact Peter.

His golden eyes don't look the same as she remembered. She stares into what she had seen love in and only sees condescension. She takes a micro step back into Jasper. This isn't the time.

"My sieve-like mind forgot to tell Esme." Her face falters, because he looks so silly and goofy and like the boy she used to love and so she tells him, "Edward?" She wants to tell him that she hopes he'll actually find happiness one day – that she doesn't wish him the eternal torment he sees in himself.

But she doesn't – she doesn't say anything at all besides, "I like chocolate."

She might not love him anymore – because she can be that honest with herself – but she won't send him unnecessary pain when she doesn't know if he'll remember this loop. That doesn't mean she's happy with him. She just – she doesn't really want to see him again. It's not a place I can put myself.

It doesn't mean I won't scream and kick and snarl at him later – just not now.

Another time.

Another place.

Edward smiles at her, like all is right, and Bella thinks, all is not, but it could be. There's potential. She just needs to work this out. Her head starts running through the plan again. Step by step.

She doesn't even notice Edward's absence.

"Do we fly?" As the words fall – Bella knows he's a step above her.

"Two hour flight vs a 15 hour drive, bunny. What do you think?" I think that the car ride to SeaTac will take longer than the flight but whatever you say.

"I'm thinking we're flying to Montana – you know where right?"

"Yeah", Jasper steps up to the driver's seat, catching the keys she throws at him with a twist of his lips, "you still got his number?" He's mindful of the humans around them, regarding the newest episode of Keeping up with the Cullens in unsubtle glee.

Bella dangles her forearm like she's showing off a bracelet, "Can't exactly lose it."

She dials Peter's number, climbing into the passenger seat and popping her mirror down to glare at her skunk stripe. It's definitely gotten worse.

He picks up on the first ring.

"Who might I be speaking to?" A deep southern drawl purrs.

He sounds the same the first time she had called him. The weight of his future death settles somewhere less painful with his voice; She reminded that he was still alive for now. Bella would do a lot to ensure that fact never faltered.

Exactly the same, she recognizes in dull horror.

"Bella." She continues the script.

Because that explained everything.

Peter tone turns hard, "Bella -"

"We need to know exactly what's happened in the last 24 hours, Peter." Jasper growls. It's a worried growl, but still not the nicest wakeup call from certain death.

"Whitlock? Major, what are you on about? It's nice to hear from you? Don't really get what you're doing with the dam – thought you had Alice and all, but normally our chit chats are a lot less rude. There a reason you called? Besides the whole, catch up thing?"

Bella doesn't have a clue what's happening. Or maybe I do and that's why this is so dreadful. She taps her fingers; she watches Victoria's knuckle scars (1, 2, 3) rise up and down.

"You were dead…Peter, what did you do today?" Jasper demands.

Peter stomps outside, frustration pouring through his words. "Ain't done nothin'." From his point of view, this conversation must be going very differently.

"That's what I was worried about – he doesn't remember." He spells out to Bella. Bella shrugs her shoulders; she was getting that. Jasper's clarification doesn't come at a shock.

"Remember what?" Peter grumbles.

"Today." Bella groans, throwing her shitty tattooed arm over her eyes. She kicks her feet up on the dash and wishes Matty, the cigarette guy, was still in the lot. A red would hit real nice, right about now.

Peter lets out a bark of laughter. "Major, what is she on about?"

Jasper whistles smooth and dastardly, it's an 'oh shit' type of whistle, one that sounds naturally born coming from him.

"A time loop, she was caught in it and so were you yesterday." Jasper explains in a taunt.

"And now I'm not?" He surmises.

"Now I am." Jasper emphasises.

Peter humms, low and grounding. "And the girl?" He asks like it's a side note. It probably is a side note now, if it wasn't always.

Jasper gives her thigh a squeeze. "Bunny's still breathing."

Peter huffs, "Not – what I meant."

"Bunny's still…loopin'." Jasper discloses.

Peter seems to find the statement hilarious, laughing for a bit too long to be considered entirely stable. "And how'd I get wrangled into all this?" He asks incredulously.

"I called you." Bella mumbles.

Peter seems to find that even funnier. His voice is so blatantly sardonic that Bella can't help but cringe ."Not getting anywhere quick with these roundin' questions, am I? God – what's the plan, Whitlock?"

"We'll be in Montana in a few." Jasper informs him.

Still snickering, Peter infers, "You're bringin' the human?"

Jasper blows a tuft of hair out of his eyes. "Yeah – bunnys' coming too."

"Shit man, what do you feed one of them?"

Bella pounds a fist against his chest (fuckingshitthathurtpleasedontbebroken), daring him to continue. It's not much of a threat. Jasper snorts, eyes widening in faux innocence. Before Bella can attempt to break her hand again, Jasper stops her. 'If you say carrot sticks I'll -', Bella mouths. Jasper gives her an amused nod.

"It doesn't matter. We can always stop. See you soon brother."

"Bye brother. Bye Thumper."

Click.

"This has really spiralled out of hand."

"Time travel isn't easy." He consoles.

"No, I meant the bunny jokes. But sure – I guess time travel is also pretty shitty." Bella shrugs. Jasper's eyes say, 'you have your priorities all wrong but I'm choosing not to question it'.

The car sits in silence.

"So time travel is real." Jasper bites out.

Bella's lips twitch. "You didn't believe me before?"

Jasper scratches the back of his neck."Uh. Mostly?"

Her feet fumbles, accidentally kicking the car horn. They both jerk. She rearranges her feet again and considers popping the sun visor down to check the state of her magical girl hair transformation. There isn't any result that would alleviate her fears, besides her hair going back to pure brown, so she doesn't dare confirm.

Twining her hand around a strand of half silver hair she mutters, "Has it gotten worse?"

Jasper tugs it. "Stop it."

"It has! Hasn't it? Oh god what am I going to do when it's all turned silver?"

"It's just growing out, you get that right? Like it's not over taking the brown is some," his hands gesture vaguely, "way."

"I should cut it." She sighs, her hands brushing out her hair, and then folding back down on her lap.

"I can help -"

"Horrible idea." She cuts him off.

"Yeah. Probably."

The silence settles back in.

"Will you be okay with this?" Jasper reluctantly questions.

She swallows, bobbing her head. "Let's just go."

Jasper doesn't need anything more than that.

They pull out of Forks High School's parking lot with Bella crossing her fingers in hope. What's the worst that could happen?

In retrospect – a lot.

What a horrible thing to think.

It starts like this; Bella's truck is slow. It's so slow that Jasper refuses to drive it all the way to SeaTac because he refuses to drive 40mph when he could be driving 120mph. Bella can't rob him of his point, but the nausea that accompanies Jasper driving in his fancy car does leave something to be wished for. At least he stopped when he almost ran over the elderly woman. She didn't actually think he would. Judging by the look on his face, he didn't either.

And that's on character development.

So they finally pull up to the airport in a 2006 Bugatti Veyron 16.4. — or whatever that means — in record time. Literally. Bella's pretty sure they broke a record. He parks the car, she gets out, they enter the airport; all is going fine – adjacent. Until she noticed the drug sniffing dogs. They must be new.

And they really don't like Jasper. It's not in a 'I will attack way' but a 'holy fuck get me out of here' kind of way. So they start absolutely flipping out, jumping on the officers holding them, barking and snapping and growling and there's screaming and brief panic and – nobody – knows what to do. This has obviously never happened before. Bella pulls Jasper away, dragging him towards the ticket booth (pleasestopbarkingpleasestopbarki-), when one of the dogs, god rest his furry little soul, decides to attack Jasper.

Bella's never seen a vampire eat something. Besides herself.

For a second – she really believes she's about to see it. It starts pulling on his pant leg and snarling and losing it entirely, while Jasper stares stony eyed at the dog, like he's a particularly hard math equation.

It takes three officers to get the dog off of Jasper. All while he offers no commentary.

Which means Bella had to speak for him.

"No officers, he isn't speaking because he has a paralysing fear of dogs."

"Yes officers, he has looked into getting help."

"No officers, he has not been taking any heavy medication."

"Yes officers, we understand. Have a lovely day."

Jasper wheezes.

"Shut up." She cries very quietly as the officers are still watching very closely.

They continue on.

The next development is their seats. The assistant at the front informs them that the next flight from Seattle to Billings boards in 40 minutes, so they'll have to be hasty. The flight isn't full, but the only two seats near each other are in the same row on the aisle and window side, but the seat in between has already been booked. Jasper doesn't protest.

They take it.

They're in a rush now, hurrying through security and TSA, desperately trying to dodge any security animals, when Bella notices someone interesting. She's pleasantly surprised she actually recognizes her off of the back jacket of her favourite contemporary novel. They got through security without problem, so they have the better part of 10 minutes to find the gate before boarding, which means Bella can linger for a second. She smiles, tugging on Jasper's arm to point out her find.

"Jay look, it's Jennie Han." She points out with a nudge.

Jasper's eyes flit over to the woman struggling with her carry on and takes a deep breath. He freezes.

Bella knows that look on his face, she's seen that look on another's face and it snowballed real fucking bad. It snowballed all the way to where she's standing today.

"Oh fuck."

Bella doesn't have to think about it to know this is a horrible situation. The worst, really. It's one where an unnecessary amount of people might very well die if she doesn't work something out very quickly – because Jasper just found his singer in the middle of a crowded airport and now Bella needs to fix it. Now.

A plan, I need a plan, this is – oh fuck this is going to be fucked up. Happy hunting.

"Jay, I have a plan. You'll get what you want and only one person will die. Go to the front of the women's bathroom right now and wait outside. I'll be back with a present in a jiffy." His body shudders and vibrates like it's fighting against himself, until it seems to collapse like a bursting star and he leaves. His departure comes off as a bit inhuman in speed and quality and timing but well – everyone is still alive so she's counting it as a success.

She stumbles towards the micro-celebrity, plan formulating with each step until she opens her big fat mouth and yells, "Ms. Han?" She thinks she might even be smiling passably.

The woman turns to her, a perfect media smile pasted tightly on her face as she pleasantly responds, "Yes?" Happy hunting, indeed.

"I'm so sorry to bother you -" her doe-eyes widen, "but my brother is a big fan of yours. He just loves your murder mysteries and you see…its his birthday today…but he was too nervous to approach you…I don't want you to miss your flight but would you – would you mind if you-" the ends of her words linger in the air. Uncertain. Hoping. Bashful.

Ms. Jennie Han smiles back looking like a lamb for the slaughter.

It's fitting.

"Oh! Oh that's so sweet of you. You're a nice girl, aren't you? Of course. Anything for my fans!" Jennie Hans worries over her carry on for a second, trying to figure out how to lug it around without dislocating her shoulder. A nice young man had carried it for her to the gate, but he had to leave to catch his flight.

"I got that for you." Bella beams. Ms. Jennie Han searches her face to make sure the offer is genuine – the bag is terribly heavy – but finds no deceit. Bella takes the bag, waving the author with her by the tilt of her head.

"Thank you so much for doing this. Like I said – I hate to mess with your day."

"Really no worries, I was going to see my daughter! She just gave birth after a long and stressful pregnancy and well, I can't help but feel grateful for the people like your brother who supported my work through everything. The homelessness, the abusive marriage, it's been a wild ride. I couldn't do it without people like you. And now with my daughter's medical issues – I just can't imagine how the hospital bills would have been paid without it."

Bella thinks this is what it feels like to give up her humanity. She's the trolley conductor; the kid playing god. She's chosen a side. It's not a pretty one.

It's a point of no return, leading a kind woman to her death by the hand – whispering promises of bashful admirers and innocence – before she takes it all away. Bella doesn't turn around. Doesn't tell her to run. No. She keeps on walking.

"What's your brother's name, sweetheart."

"Jasper." Was it a kindness to tell someone their future murderers name?

There's a line of malevolence parting like the red sea for them. Jasper had pumped the emotion into the air like a bug repellant, all affected, except for Bella and a Ms. Jennie Han, those two just keep on walking forward.

"Hello Jasper! Happy birthday, dear." The genial novelist greets.

If Jasper had been more aware, he would have laughed at Bella for that.

"Yes," Jasper chokes. His eyes are full and dark and oh so very hungry. He looks like the big bad wolf with those eyes.

"Jasper Whitlock, ma'am." He's got her caught – hooked and lined and sunk to the bottom. They all step into the airport bathroom. Jasper leads her by the hand into a stall. Ms. Jennie Han's eyes are clouded and steps drunken; the line of her shoulders is at ease and when she says, 'oh', it sounds like she's saying, 'yes'.

She doesn't scream.

Bella looks into the mirror. She can hear the pounding of fists on cheap airport plastic and moaning; she can hear it all, to every last thump and every last exsanguinating breath. She hears it all but she doesn't focus on that. Bella looks at her hair. It's half silver and half brown; the silver already reaching her shoulders. The brown looks dull and lame in comparison and Bella knows that it's always looked like that, that her hair is human and not the rejuvenated immortal sheening wonder-hair; she knows this. She can't help but resent it anyways.

She redressed when they stopped to switch the cars. Bella is now in a simple hoodie and leggings. It's blue. Light blue, she supposes. On her feet are a new pair of laceless boots. They're Rosalie's, but Bella doubts she'll be able to hunt her down for the grievance. Not any time soon at least.

The rest of her is the same. Even though she led a human to her death today.

Everything is the same.

Pulling out her backpack, she pulls out a pair of scissors (YesJasperTSAWillLetMeHaveKiddieScissorsNowShutUpAndChangeCars), she brings them to her hair.

Snip.

Dull brown hair falls on the clinical tiles.

Snip.

Ms. Jennie Han has stopped thumping in the airport bathroom stall,

Snip.

The door swings open.

"I brought sunglasses." She tells him.

Jasper's crimson eyes blink back at her.

"For what?" His voice has a newly lyrical quality. She didn't know the Cullen diet dulled so much. Physically, she would describe him the same as he was before, but in person he's entirely different. There's a greater sense of magnetism – like power is rolling off him in unconcerned waves. Bella shakes her head. Not the time.

"C'mon, we're going to be late for our flight." She shoves the glasses from her bag into his hands, closing the fingers around them, and starts out the door. He grabs her arm and pulls her back before she can leave.

"Bella?" He asks, when she thinks he really means, 'are you still here with me?'.

"Put on the glasses Jay, we're going to be late." She responds, hoping he knows it's a yes.

It's always a yes.

The glasses go on and they're running out the door. They have a plane to catch. Hopefully nobody finds the body in the meantime. If she weren't operating on the thought that this loop would be inconsequential, she doesn't know what she would do. Maybe she would do everything the same.

She supposes that she'll never get to find out.

The plane is already boarding, which is fine, they bought their tickets late, so their section is called last. They're there before the doors close with a flight attendant giving them an annoyed snitty glare. The airport doesn't close or freak out or anything bad before they're off the ground headed towards Billings. Bella's so relieved she doesn't look up from the window before the flight attendant is asking them if they'd like anything to drink.

"Honey, are you okay?" a flight attendant caresses an erratic Jasper.

"He's fine." She cuts in before Jasper can ruin it. At second glance, he doesn't seem to be handling a plane full of people well. The worst thing that could happen is too much unnecessary human interaction for him. Or he eats everyone. The two things feel very connected.

The flight attendant gives her a sour look. 'Yolanda', her name tag reads.

"Pardon me ma'am. Yes, I'm doing quite well." Jasper bears his teeth. The flight attendant takes a frightened step back.

Too much, Jay.

"There's just – there's blood on your lip." Yolanda squeals, her hand pointing it out. Her hand withdrawals like she's been shocked.

"I hit him."

They both turn to her.

"He cheated on me." She digs the hole deeper.

Yolanda's sickly green hue turns sicker and greener. She looks ghastly. Bella enjoys it just a tad too much.

"With his sister." Bella was still a bit bitter about Jasper cackling in the Walmart over her hitting on Alice. Retribution is sweetest in taste when least expected. And inescapable. The second component was more important.

"I'm sorry ma'am. She's disturbed. We're on our way to seek a medical practitioner." Jasper pushes his sunglasses down and winks discreetly at her. She probably thinks he's flirting. Bella isn't sure the man knows anything about timing if that's what he wants to wink about.

His comment wasn't far off base, I certainly feel disturbed right about now.

Doubt Carlisle would have anything nice to console me with, 'ah yes Bella, keep up the good luring innocent humans to their death work'.

"But – you're lip it's still…" The flight attendant tatters on. Bella can't imagine his winking crimson eyes did anything to soothe her.

"She's extremely violent. Very easy to provoke." He wipes the leftover drop of Ms. Jennie Han with a finger and gives it a kitten lick. "Nothing to worry about." He finishes delightedly.

She leaves in a hurry, her drink table tipping precariously with each rushed step further.

Bella just hoped the time loop would work from jail if this is how things were headed.

"So, bunny." He teases.

Bella's shoulders droop like a mis-watered plant. "Uh huh." She murmurs back. Everything around her shakes a bit. It might just be her.

"When do you think the man between us died?"

Bella gives the man between them a look, noting the pallor of his skin and stiffness of his position, and decides to disregard it.

Please don't think about it. Pink elephants, think about pink elephants.

As long as it cannot be pinned on her, it is currently not her problem.

Jasper's face scrunches, "Sorry, didn't mean to be callous, you doing okay?" Bipolar much?

"Peachy keen, Jay." she moans in a half laugh. Her head tilts forward and then back, banging against the shitty economy sized seat.

"It's not much longer," he promises her.

Bella isn't heartened by the statement. She goes back to watching the clouds pass and her knuckles beat against her thigh in musical succession.

1, 2, 3.

It's as easy as falling asleep to forget about it when the beats hit 1, then 2, then 3.

And finally they're landing. Bella's tempted to kiss the ground. As it is, she knows she's going to practically sprint her way out of the airport until she's on non-flying-land and out of sight of the TSA. It's not that new of a thought in comparison to what's normally going through her head when she flies.

When the plane hits ground, she belatedly remembers she doesn't actually know much about Peter for how deeply she hurt when last loop he – well, he didn't survive – and inversely so, he knows nothing about her this time. She's a clean slate. Her last first impression wasn't the best, and while this one can't go down in any record books as fantastic, it might have been less bad? Less bad isn't that good, though.

She'll just have to try harder. She wants to be his friend. He's funny and Jasper's brother, so she wants him to at the least upgrade herself in his mind from random human to Jasper's little annoying friend, or just something other than Thumper. She'll be pleased if she can achieve that. It isn't a big goal either, nothing crazy; it's attainable.

"You'll have to step over the dead body, bunny." Jasper's eldritch horror of a perfect voice breaks her thought. He holds his hand out to hers and she takes it without second thought. He pulls her up and over the man. They both stare at him when she gets to the aisle, tucked into Jasper's chest, as her heart pounds unevenly. There's something brownish leaking from the dead man's mouth. With a shudder, they leave him.

"We're driving up to his house?"

"We'll rent a car. Easier that way."

"I can't believe nobody stopped us on our way out."

"They wouldn't want to, bunny."

Her line of sight catches a man loading suitcases onto a console with unsteady hands and an empty expression on his lifeless face. She finds another person, a child the size of a standard poodle, who's staring at a fallen ice cream cone in front of his feet. He doesn't reach for it. Or cry. The mother to his side, has a pinched squint to her upper face but she doesn't console the child. The security guards don't hinder them, nor does the crowd, as the world they pass has been seeped in lethargic complacency.

Jasper's skin is buzzing like a magnetic field.

The sunglasses stay on until they're in the rental car. It's black and shiny. She doesn't check the brand.

It doesn't matter.

"Is it always like that?" She buckles her seat and keeps her head forward.

"Deer are a half diet. Half the everything: the energy, the power, the human draw," he waves a hand half heartedly, "half the humanity. But double the thirst, damn, it takes a bit to readjust to the traditional diet, but you should be happy bunny, I want to eat you much less now"

Bella resigns herself to the insanity of it all.

"So – if you feed on humans, it's less humanity, or more?" She asks.

"Depends on what's beneficial for survival." He indifferently explains.

"And humanity -"

"-is not." He finishes for her.

She stares out to the sandstone cliffs and flatter land. It's a beautiful place. She'd never been to Montana before. Jasper doesn't seem bothered by her retreat from conversation. He looks far less nauseated than usual – but not wanting to eat her must have helped.

Dilatorily, Bella thinks she might be in shock.

She voices what she'd been wondering (tryingnottothinkabout) since the bathroom. "I thought you hated it because you're an empath. That's what he said. I get the…before – but I just thought you would be upset after. Maybe. I'm sorry that was dumb to say."

"Bunny, no. Wait – look at me."

She listens. The more she really looks at him, the less she feels he's changed. There's something different to the quality in which he exists, but in the centre there's the Jasper she knows, and she can't be scared of that man. He's her friend. It means far more to her than she ever thought it could.

"I think differently than you. You know that Bella, yes?" Bella nods, noting the serious undertone to his words.

"We're not the same. We aren't. Hey – don't be upset now, okay? I was being an idiot, look it's like a drug thing, like a high. There was the high and then there's the low and the low isn't so good for me. If it wasn't my singer, the high would have been a lot fucking shorter and the low – it's wouldn't spell good things for me. It's never for me. Sometimes I forget you don't have the same instincts as me bunny, which is hilarious to say when I haven't stopped thinking about eating you since Edward started paying attention to you, but bunny, don't cry. Fuck. It's okay. You're my friend, I have few and far between of those, and I don't wanna lose any of them alright? We haven't been close long, but bunny, we're good cop, bad cop. We're in this together. I got you."

Her eyelashes feel wet. Heavy. She hadn't even realised he'd pulled over. She flutters her lashes, eyes to the ground, angry that she's gotten so upset over any of this – angry that she's shed unnecessary tears.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be upset."

"It's not your fault."

"I'm sorry I cried on you."

"That you can apologise for, human snot is disgusting."

"Hey," she wacks his chest with the back of her hand, careful not to break it.

"Can we keep driving?"

"Yeah." She swallows. Her chest feels lighter than it has in days.

"C'mon bunny, there's damsels to be saved."

"Does that make Peter the damsel?"

"Don't tell him I said that."

"Whatever you say."

She begs him to stop at Starbucks before they get to Peter's house. He pops his sunglasses back on with a snarl and takes the car through a drive-thru. It's half for food and half so she has something in her hands when she meets him. She thinks it's clever – practically awkward human 101.

They get back in the car with a huffy Jasper and pleased Bella. It isn't much more of a drive from there.

"Do you have to drink so loud?" He grumbles with a hand over his eyes in pained exhaustion.

"You drink louder." She taunts.

"Touché, bunny."

The sipping gets louder. Jasper eyes the road, considering just leaving her in the car and making a break for it. With a groan, he continues on. He isn't sure she would drive away with the car in the opposite direction.

"Bella, my brother's diet, isn't like mine." He tries to explain delicately.

"You literally have red eyes right now."

Jasper frowns. She does have a point. He opens his mouth to try and hammer it in further, but she sips her drink even louder. With one last consideration, he goes back to watching the road. Pulling off the highway, they turn into a dirt lane surrounded by trees of different tone than those in the Olympic peninsula. The colours here are warmer.

Peter waits on the porch of a considerably sized cabin, leaning against a wooden post. He isn't what Bella was imagining at all.

The man's disposition is defensive; his arms are crossed at his chest and his posture is confident in the way a wild animal's would be. His jaw is locked and his eyes haven't moved from Jaspers, in a purely analytical sense. He holds himself like it is. This is his territory. We're just passing through it. He looks serious. Frustrated. Mean.

In terms of description, there's been a departure from her thoughts of sibling-like traits between the two of the men. Besides the skin and the similar build – they look entirely different. Peter is older. Where Jasper looks about 19, Peter's obviously in his mid 20's she surmises by the maturity of his face. Supporting that, he has stubble – Bella didn't even know vampires could do that. The rest of his hair sits dark and wavy at his chin, with half of it pinned up. He doesn't give off southern vibes, even if she knows for a fact he has an accent, but he has more of a tired graduate school at the local coffee shop energy. On his feet a pair of black nike slides are worn, atrociously she notes, with a pair of socks underneath them. The rest of his outfit is equally simple, cut off sweatpant shorts and a baggy hoodie that does nothing for his frame.

She was really expecting more 'flirty farmboy' and less 'depressed sporty'.

Behind a pair of darkly tinted sunglasses, she knew his eyes would be just as red at Jaspers.

Jasper approaches him slowly, "Brother."

Peter's face stays fierce, twisting into a scowl, "Sure. Now explain to me what you got me into."

"Lovely to see you too, Jasper, he said after not visiting for a year." Jasper mocks.

Peter rolls his eyes. "Can you explain what you got me into, brother?" He emphasises the last word.

Jasper swallows a bark of laughter. "What's the magic word?"

Peter pushes off the patio's post, shining his middle finger in the air as he stomps back inside.

The door doesn't hit him on the way out.

Well, at least she wasn't wrong that they're brothers. They certainly act like it.

"C'mon Thumper, let's get hopping." Peter shouts from the inside of the house. Bella's eyebrows raise to half her hair line. At least he didn't forget about her?

She walks up the pathway, entering the house with a sallow Jasper pouting behind her.

Peter's sprawled out on a couch, glaring at a bottle of beer. It wasn't open, but he held it on his lap like it could be.

Bella keeps her Starbucks iced latte cradled against her chest as she sits down next to Jasper in the seats opposing the man. Peter points his beer at her.

"Alright Thumper, let's get to the chit chat."

Bella glares at him.

"Bless her heart," his eyes flicker to Jasper's, "is she a little bit slow?"

Jasper's mouth opens, gapes for a second, then snaps closed.

"A little over a week ago I jumped off a cliff." Both eyes snap to her.

"I didn't die, I woke up 6 months ago. I've been repeating this day for over a week." It's a simplification but close enough to the truth. If anything it's honest.

"Huh." Peter exhales, stumped.

"That's it." She snaps.

"And it repeats when -"

"I die. Or now – I supposed, when you die." She sweetly informs.

Peter makes a gurgling sound at the back of his throat. "Great –and that happens often?"

"We don't know." Jasper clarifies open handed. He claps theatrically. The sound echoes throughout the room.

"We don't know what's causing this." He reiterates.

Peter freezes, then asks a question Bella can't catch. It's quick and below a pitch she can understand. Normally, it would bother her to be so blatantly talked over, but there's no benefit in her rehashing this all again. She continues loudly slurping her drink as her eyes wander the room.

Jasper's glasses come off and she can tell he was about to rub his face down like he often does when he's stressed, but whatever possible action he would make is interrupted by Peter's, "Oh shit."

Bella huffs with amusement into her plastic cup.

"You slipped?" Peter quietly asks. She can detect the sympathy beneath the words.

"Your – knowing shit – didn't tell you?" Jasper remarks bitterly. He sounds more frustrated with himself than Peter.

"No." Peter doesn't look at him. His eyes stay on the unopened beer. "It's been a bit out of order. Are you okay?"

Jasper exhales. "Yeah, fuck man."

"Sounds about right." Peter snorts ungracefully.

"Don't it?"

Bella's finger's circle the rim of the cup. Round and round.

Peter places the beer on the living room table. He even uses a coaster. "So what now?"

They all look out the wall length window to the left of the room. The day is starting to slip into evening already, as the clouds settle into a layer of fog and the sun sinks all the way down to the horizon line.

Jasper grins sharp-toothed, "We wait for whatever killed you to show up," he wets his lips, "and then we kill it."

Peter doesn't argue.

Bella trapses the house like a ghost unbothered while Jasper's taken to playing catch up with his brother. Peter ignores her. He did ask her, or should she say, 'Thumper', if she had anything to contribute, after their living room talk.

She told him no.

He didn't ask anymore questions after that.

This really isn't the first impression I was going for.

At the very least she can say that the man doesn't hate her. The only reason she knows that is because he's been looking at her funny. She can't figure out if it's like a meal or a puzzle or a half stomped bunny, but the man's eyes follow hers as she steps through each room trying not to linger on anything too long.

By the time it's dark out, Jasper tells them he's going to run the perimeter for scents, leaving them alone to 'talk'.

Though there isn't an argument; Peter gives him a 'your fucked in the head' look. Bella takes it as a win.

She's standing in the kitchen going through the cupboards when she feels his presence behind her. She stiffens.

"Peter." She turns around slowly, eyes following his, like prey would a predator's.

"Thumper." He drawls out slow and smooth like the sweetest honey.

She shivers.

"Is there anything you -"

"No." He drones back.

She searches for a subject, anything to talk about until Jasper gets back. Her coffee is out and done for, so she has no idea what to do with her hands. She decides to tuck them into her pockets anxiously.

"You told me Annebelle-"

He's on her in a second – caging her to the kitchen counter. "Don't say her name." He whispers in a cruel tone. She thinks he might just break her.

"Sorry." She gasps.

He searches her face for sincerity – nodding when he finds it.

"I didn't mean to bring up unwanted memories." She confesses, her silvered hair falling into her face as her cheeks burn. Peter's eyes linger on the red of her flush.

"I believe you." he mutters back.

They stand like statues in each other's presence. Bella still hasn't a clue what to say, but she thinks they could stand like this for a while without words. His head snaps up.

"Stay here." He orders.

And then he's gone.

It really is a pitiful theme of her life at this point. She consoles herself with the fact that Jasper's out there too, and that Jasper is by far, the biggest baddest bitch she's heard of.

As if summoned, she hear's Jasper footsteps, advancing through the front door, beating down on the wood hard, as he shouts out, "I recognized the scent, Peter," he enters the kitchen and his body suspends, "where's Peter?"

"I thought he was with you?" She responds in horror.

She can hear a scream and she knows she's already running for the door with a, WHY THE FUCK DOES THIS KEEP HAPPENING, pounding into the cells of her body with brutal flourish, her cheeks puffing out and Jasper's overtaken her stride in half a blink of an eye, but the throbbing in chest, dying her heart beat as silver as her hair, thrumms with the knowledge that it's happening again. With everything she is – she reaches out to Peter. She thinks of his surly face and unopened beer and Thumper and Annabelle and the look on Jasper's face when he knew he was dead and twists.

Purple smoke is raising the embers of the forest as she feels the –

click

unclick

– and then it's all drifting to the bottom of the bottle with a hand seized tightly around her own.