Chapter 18: Getting Patched Up
By the time we arrived at the Cullen house in the Denali National Park, I had confirmed that there were no more live feeds being broadcast from the Forks area and all of the Forks' viewing subscribers' ISPs locations, narrowed down to at least a country. All of James' other cameras leering at humans and other covens was a problem I couldn't be concerned about for the time being, and something I didn't want to address soon. Something should be done about it for sure, and if it didn't get sorted in the next five years or so, I might wade in. However, having no idea what kind of clusterfuck I might be stepping into put me off. Of the subscribers to the events in Forks, two of the fourteen were Italy, whatever that might mean.
We opened up the house without Esme's guidance or assistance, and thanked the Denalis for all of their support. Esme had designed the house decades ago. It was similar to a ski lodge with a large open area, as you came in the front, including ascending stairs and a large fireplace. However, the house was made to blend in with the landscape, rather than stand out, causing it to look much smaller from the front than it truly was inside. The house was made of logs and stone where there weren't walls of glass. The roof had a sharp degree made of a sturdy green tinted material. This combination helped to keep the snow from putting too much weight on the joists.
Shortly after arriving, Charlotte, Bella, and Peter claimed the room farthest from the main area on the second floor, which also happened to be the corner room in the L shape layout. The room had a eight foot high sliding door leading to a small porch that fit two chairs and a small round table, but no windows. Without asking, Charlotte put my stuff in the room to the right of theirs, as you walked down the hall, which had the same design. Alice put her stuff in the room next to mine. Edward claimed the next room, placing him at the corner facing the drive . Their rooms' walls were entirely glass. Esme chose the room on the other side of Bella for Carlisle and herself. Rosalie and Emmett placed themselves next to them, putting the last room in the L shape as Carlisle's office. In these three room, the only natural light came from two skylights in each room.
It was our strangest configuration in this house. Last time Rosalie and Emmett had been in the corner room with all glass, Esme and Carlisle next to them, followed by Edward, and then Alice and I. Then the three other rooms were usually Carlisle's office, an office for me, and a workroom for Esme and Alice. It highlighted in a very apparent way that the family was not the same returning to the house as we had been leaving it for Forks.
Other than each person's needed items, nothing was unpacked. No books lined the shelves in the library off the main room on the ground floor. No paintings hung on the walls. Even Carlisle's father's cross was absent. As a group, we were in a holding pattern. I suspected that we were all waiting on Esme.
Esme was truly the matriarch of the family. She was the one who opened the houses and made a building into a home. Alice and Rosalie would help her decorate, and even contribute their own ideas, but the emotional atmosphere and the small touches came from Esme.
Instead of hearing Esme fluttering about, excitingly chattering about her designs, she had withdrawn into herself. She did not leave the room, except to hunt and on the rare occasion Rose or Alice could coax her into the main room for short periods. When left alone she would most often be sitting on the side of the skylight closest to the edge of the house with her legs dangling into the room, while her eyes stared into the distance, seemingly focused on nothing at all. Edward and Carlisle relayed to the rest of us that she had been in that state often as a newborn, ending our collective confusion, while increasing our worry.
Her emotions rarely deviated from their tsunami of fear, shame, doubt, guilt, self-crimination, and self-loathing. They each took turns crashing over her, sometimes in concert with such strength that the Esme I had gotten to know was only found in her innermost layer. I kept her confidences, as she didn't show any signs of being a danger to herself. Simultaneously, the family already significantly worried. Their concern for her resulted in her only being left alone when she asked for it, and rarely less than an hour, even though she rarely spoke. Even Bella would sit with her, share a little about her classes, and talk about random events happening in the human world. The family's worry was understandable and I shared in it, but them wanting her old self wasn't going to make it appear and only put pressure on her. When it was only the two of us together Esme seemed to become exceptionally shameful and guilty along with developing a complete lack of ability to vocalise. As a result, for her sake and mine, after two attempts with the same result, we were only in the same room together when others were present. Unless hunting, when Esme asked for space, Carlisle would only go as far as his office.
The lack of bloodlust from Esme when she was alone with Bella astounded me. In fact, Esme often seemed nearly oblivious to her own thirst, and when reminded of her need, resistant to feeding. As a result, she solely went hunting when Carlisle pleaded, which he only did when her eyes were beyond dark. It didn't take my ability to see that the toll on Carlisle was immense. Whenever Carlisle's emitting emotions would turn strikingly heavy Edward would take Carlisle out to hunt. One time when talking about it to Peter and Charlotte, she noted that is was as if the three of them had reverted to patterns from when Esme was a newborn, except Edward had all but taken up the role of Coven Master. Much like things between Peter and myself as well as Charlotte and myself, I viewed the events as an opportunity for them to change how they related to each other. For all of our sakes, I hoped that each Cullen member could change. If they could, I suspected that it would significantly alter the family dynamics, and potentially create more of a space for Rosalie and Emmett.
Primarily the hours since our arrival to Alaska had been spent with the couples paired off, often leaving me with Bella. Charlotte and Peter were great company to both Bella and I, but their diet and our location meant that they were gone at least a week in order to feed. When in the vacinity they were either with Bella and/or me or outside in each other's arms keeping their distance from the Cullens.
In my presence Carlisle emitted in equal measure the emotions of anger and gratitude. A few days after arriving when we had been alone in the forest near the house he had profusely conveyed his appreciation for Esme's return and apologised for his anger.
"No apology needed," I insisted. "Your wife was hurt and I asked you to stay out of the fight," I reminded him. "Your trust in me to bring her back was immense. That is sufficient."
"My anger squarely belongs at James' feet. My mind is fully aware of that. However, he's not here and you are. I'm struggling to come to peace that you did everything you could, even though I have no doubt that you did," he attempted to explain.
"You are angry and the person at fault is dead, so the anger latches on to me," I told him.
"Yes," he answered, saddened at this truth.
"I get it," I stated. It had been the story of my life for my first hundred years.
"Nevertheless," he started and then petered off, as if unsure of how to convey what he wanted.
"Let's spar, old man," I half encouraged, half teased.
"No thank you," he answered, his emotions equally screamed hesitancy and rage.
Believing it would help, I got into a fighting pose and began mirroring back to him his rage. When he began to snarl, his mortification increased. His phenomenal self-control was keeping him from the fight, so it took quite a bit of effort on my part to take the emotions he used to manage himself, withdraw them into me, while sending him just the right rage cocktail to push him over the edge.
Carlisle and I had never sparred in all our decades together, except in a friendly post-hunt kind of way. This was completely different. The moment I sensed that he was ready, I charged. He responded physically and emotionally as if I were James. I hadn't played with my food like James, but truthfully he and I had more similarities than difference. I might not have hurt Esme, but there were tens of thousands that I had hurt.
Carlisle easily escaped my move, and then went to undercut me.
Aware that his rage was blinding him, I stayed on the defensive. It was clear as the time went on that he had learned some moves when he had stayed with the Voluri. He wasn't guard material, but closer than I had expected.
Guilt began to build up within me, which allowed him to get in some solid strikes. The physical contact hurt some, but the real blow was his emotions that flooded me when his skin on his fist or foot would contact my skin. How many families had suffered like he was suffering as a result of my actions? How many mates had I killed? There was no penance too high to equal the cost others paid for my actions. Even saving Esme wasn't a drop in the bucket to balancing the scales. Yet, the soldier and fighter in me refused to surrender, and so I continued to avoid most of his attacks.
It was almost two days later with torn clothes and no injured limbs that his rage began to naturally lift. As soon as it wasn't clouding him, he froze and started apologising. In my periphery during that time I was vaguely aware of Edward's emotional signature nearing and then leaving.
"It's what you needed," I told him, sending my remorse, "and I did provoke you."
He simply nodded, sending me gratitude dosed in humility, and after a few deep breaths informed me, "I seem to be in need of blood."
"I could have some," I agreed.
Over a day later, we were both full, so headed back.
"I appreciate the outcome, Jasper, truly," he began, his tone full of hesitancy, "but I'm struggling with the reality that you determined the medicine I needed and gave it to me without my blessing, or even consent."
Looking over at him, I tried to understand what he was getting at. After coming to a dead end, I sent him my confusion.
Stopping, he took a deep breath and seemed to be collecting his thoughts. It was nearly twenty minutes before he spoke, "In the medical field it is important that a doctor only gives treatment that a patient agrees to, unless they are dying and not able to give permission, like being unconscious."
Pondering this for a moment, I then asked, "What if their refusal causes them to die when your treatment would have saved them?"
"Then they perish," he answered solemnly. "It is their life, and thus their choice."
With that in mind, I re-evaluated his statement.
"You're in disagreement with how I used my ability on you, because you did not give me permission first?" I checked.
"Precisely," he confirmed.
"But you would not have let go and allowed yourself to fight me," I pointed out.
"Then, I would have paid the cost of that choice by having to live with my rage longer," he countered.
"Would you have preferred that?" I wondered still slightly puzzled.
"I would have preferred for you to have given me the option," he stated, sounding sad and weary.
"You could have walked away," I argued.
"Could have I?" he challenged.
Instead of arguing, I paused and considered his question before answering. "I apologise, Carlisle, if I violated you in some way. Peter often intuits what I need and how to get me to release the emotions my ability absorbs, especially the ones bent towards violence. My intention was simply to offer to you what has been done for me."
He sent me a mixture of acceptance, forgiveness, care, and joy while he clamped my shoulder. "Next time respect my no."
I nodded in agreement.
"And in exchange I promise to trust your wisdom in these matters, even if it goes against how I usually conduct myself."
Smiling at him, I agreed easily.
"Your trust is everything," I told him, unable to convey with words how much his statement had touched me, so sent him my feelings via my ability.
Despite the significant decrease in rage, overall his emotions were still more a tumble dryer than the calmness that usually had defined him these past five decades. Over the next few days his guilt and shame increased, causing his chastisement of me to sting even more. He had been correct. I shouldn't have forced my methods upon him. We were very different men. Perhaps it hadn't been the best way for him to heal. Even with the improvement Carlisle experienced, he wasn't close to being himself.
As a result, Edward had continued his oversight of the family. However, he spoke to Carlisle more, not that there was a lot to discuss. There was no human facade. I kept an eye on our digital records. In practicality what he ended up doing was the family management that usually fell to Esme. He kept an eye on everyone through his gift, especially Alice, Esme, and Carlisle. It seemed ironic that he was enacting the role I had expected him to have done upon our meeting.
Other than bloodlust when in Bella's proximity, he primarily emitted determination, worry, and sadness. His non-reaction to what was going through the family's heads impressed me. As the weeks passed I came to realise how our mutual trust in each other had grown, as he never once felt disgusted or appalled in my presence, and I appreciated what he was doing for the family. He and I seemed to dwell in the land of copasetic, although we had exchanged no words since the family's arrival in Denali. Nevertheless, on the one occasion when he and Alice had been talking during a hunt his discharged emotions were primarily heartbroken and angry. It suggested to me that he wasn't handling things as well as he presented and was using his care for the family to mask his feelings, probably from himself.
Bella did her online classes and when we were alone talked about them, along with her thoughts of the future, and her stories about the Chief. The way she spoke about her mother presented a picture as if she barely had a current relationship with her, even though she spoke of her fondly, and her emotions were accepting and indulgent. Our conversations were a blessed relief, as they were a great distraction from me over analysing what had occurred.
About once a week Alice would seek me out or I her. We both seemed to be missing our camaraderie and the other's presence. She seemed to want to forget the past by focusing on the future, which made sense, given her ability and how she functions in the world.
Nevertheless, after a few weeks of saying nothing, I warned her, "Not dealing with the past will not aid your present or future."
She sighed like she expected me to say something similar. Then, with an accusatory tone, she asked, "How do I do that, oh great one?"
"You're talking to Edward?" I checked, ignoring her tone completely.
It took her a few minutes before she answered, "I showed him the events."
"That's not the same, June Bug, as telling someone you trust what happened," I offered to her, attempting to keep my tone soft. After a few minutes of silence, I asked, "Are you ashamed?"
"Only in what you had to endure," she replied quickly.
"He hurt you badly," I pointed out.
She shrugged. "Yeah, but nothing that didn't heal with some blood. It was a strategic move that gave you the opening you needed." Her tone was even, while her emotions were still turbulent, certainly improved, but it was clear that she hadn't come to as much peace about it as she was making out.
"What about the end?" I questioned, sending her my care and concern, so she would know my intention for asking.
She frowned and folded into herself a little. "I can't say that part was easy. At the same time, I was so focused on my visions that it was nearly like he did it to someone else. I didn't like the violence. Ironically the experience caused me to appreciate your way with me even more." She paused more adding more, "but I knew about a day in that something like that would be required, so I had been preparing myself. Seeing that it would work in my visions helped me a lot, too. I wished that there had been another way, for sure, but he's ash, so worth it."
Saying nothing regarding what my ability picked up, I instead questioned, "Why would I not have the same opinion of what I did?"
She studied me closely, while reviewing old memories, according to the emotions she emitted.
Nearly an hour later she nodded, send me acceptance, and then voiced, "It's different that my choices hurt me than my choices hurt others."
"Absolutely," I agreed.
"How have you come to terms with it?" she questioned with a tone that suggested confusion and a hope that I had the answers.
"I haven't, June Bug," I admitted. "I'm working through my past, and aiming towards peace about it, but at the same time, I don't want to lose completely my shame and guilt about it. I hurt and harmed hundreds of thousands of individuals. Doing so because of Maria doesn't change that it was my hands that tore others apart, ended the lives of my own troop members, raped and butchered others, or forced others to pay the price for my rage."
She was silent for many hours, each of us lost in our own thoughts, until she spoke once more, "I thought that watching you over those years gave me insight into what you had endured. It is only now that I have gained a small true insight into the burden you have carried. Guilt and shame are more a Carlisle conversation, but selfishly, I'd like to see you come to peace. I think you deserve it."
"How?" I questioned, some of my self-condemnation rising to the surface. "How can a mass murder like me deserve peace?" Looking up into the trees, I stilled for a few minutes before continuing, calming myself down. "It doesn't matter that Maria shaped me. It doesn't matter that I might be her victim. It doesn't even matter that almost everything I did out of survival or ignorance. What matters is that I live because of my killing of so many. You were right. The animal blood helps, as does living with probably the most morally conscience vampires ever in existence. Because whether I deserve it or not, I crave tranquility. I might be a great tactician, but I want to live in obscurity, all creatures of this earth forgetting my name. I yearn for the name of Jasper Whitlock to mean something positive, for others to never associate me with The Major, and that legacy to be forgotten. Even my military service as a human was for what? I killed Union soldiers, the enemy, for what? My belief in the nobility of my cause doesn't raise those I killed from the dead." By the end my pain and horror was apparent. "I'm not sorry for ending James and playing my role to rid the world of his blight was a low cost for the outcome, but if I used my feelings towards him as a way to forget that it was my hands that tore him apart, or of what I'm capable of, would be folly and one step towards become like him or Maria."
"Maybe you don't find peace, exactly. Maybe you find self-acceptance and self-forgiveness," she offered musing, her tone distant and contemplative.
"Right back at you," I told her with a smile.
"But that sounds so hard," she mocked whined.
"Do I need to kick Edward's ass?" I asked with a joking tone, wanting to change the topic and the emotional atmosphere.
"Nah," she replied with a smile, going with my subtle request. "He's been real good about it. He said that he could see a lot of it while it was happening, which is kind of hard to stomach, but it allowed him to have hope that we were winning, thereby keep Carlisle topside. He had focused on my mind, as he wanted to see the futures I was witnessing, etc."
"That's good," I commented. "What was the chance of success if I had rushed James when we were in the corridor to retrieve blood?"
"Less than thirty percent," she answered sadly. "I didn't want to gamble that much."
"Fair," I agreed. "I'm still here alive and taking names, so it's a win."
"Yeah," she offered back, but the tone was empty.
"And talk to someone," I insisted. "If not me or Edward, Esme, or someone else."
Even though her tone was annoyed, she assured me that she would.
We then returned to talking about possible futures she saw and how slow Edward was moving in the direction she wanted. Her irritation with him brought me some humour. Anyone who knew Edward would have easily guessed that he would over think things and move at a snail's pace. He was overly cautious and not greatly in touch with his own feelings.
"Be patient with him," I recommended. "He might see your visions, but he isn't one to rush."
She sighed agreeing before she started rambling about the fashion lines she had seen via her ability.
Each time we spent time together, no matter how much or little we spoke or what we spoke about seemed to be stepping-stones into the new relationship we were moving towards.
Rosalie and Emmett had also been shaken, although to a lesser degree than the rest of the family. Unfortunately, the events had brought up Rosalie's past for her and according to the emotions she radiated, often lost in her memories. Consequently, when Emmett and I played video games or chess, Rosalie would be in the space with us, as if needing Emmett's presence at all times, but she did not seek me out one on one. After a few weeks I confronted her about it.
"I'm not avoiding you," she replied to my accusation with a haughty and curt tone.
"Seems like it," I countered.
She attempted to stare me into taking back my point.
"Name one time, since we left Forks when you have spent time with me," I requested.
Gratefully, she began to examine her memories. Her emotions indicated when she had finished her review and found me accurate.
In typical Rosalie fashion, rather than be agreeable, she retorted, "Doesn't mean that I'm avoiding you."
"Maybe not purposefully," I agreed, "but that doesn't change the facts. I can't say for sure, but I suspect that you're avoiding engaging with any male, except Emmett. I'm not upset with you about it. Seems like a reasonable response. I'm simply asking you to knock it off."
"That's it?" she snapped back at me. "Why not ask for the moon while you're at it."
"And there's the twin sister I adore," I teased her, while I sent her my affection along with the unique cocktail of my feelings that surmised me missing her.
"Fine," she grumbled, "I'll work on it."
I nodded quickly and walked away before my smile broke over my face and pissed her off even more.
A few days later she suggested that we upgrade a motorbike she had found. Emmett was in the garage hanging in the background his head in some game on his phone. I was grateful, though, that he kept his distance, stayed quiet, and let us reconnect. Before long we were back to our usual jibbing and playful sibling relationship.
Regrettably, when the family gathered together in close proximity, I would flee shortly after, unwilling to withstand the emotional atmosphere. Without doubt, what Peter, Charlotte and I had done right after had helped; nevertheless, my inner world was still chaotic. There were too many similarities to when I had been Maria's Major for my liking.
Peter often picked fights with me that helped get the aggravation out, but he hadn't offered himself more than that and Charlotte had only offered conversation. Neither had Peter forced one of his heart to hearts. A part of me was grateful that I was mostly left to sort myself out. Another part of me wanted to use him or her as an outlet. Though, my unwillingness to be like Maria or James in any way kept me from asking. Every time I went to speak to Peter about what happened the words wouldn't come, like they got stuck in my throat. I wanted to move past it, but it didn't seem like my emotions or mind was ready to do so, yet.
As the weeks turned into months, the family's emotions had decreased in their intensity. What seemed to have been the most restorative was each couple's time alone. Nevertheless, the emotions everyone emitted suggested that their healing was minimal and certainly no where near achieving calmness.
When I reached a my limit of avoiding the house when the family gathered, I requested a family meeting.
With everyone assembled the atmosphere was heavy, and my desire to flee it high. I also really wanted to send out tranquility to improve the atmosphere. I did neither, as I had decided that the only way to make things tolerable for me was to face it, which meant withstanding all that my ability was picking up and how it disturbed me. Also, Alice hadn't objected to the request, suggesting that she hadn't seen a negative outcome, so here we were.
Everyone was quiet, giving me the floor.
"I'm finding it difficult to be with the family when we're all together," I admitted. "If you'll are agreeable, I'd like for us to share our stories, in the hope that it will help work out some of the heavier emotions and allow for steps towards our collective healing."
Carlisle looked at me with a slight smile. "That sounds like a wise idea, Jasper," he stated, while his pride came through to me, despite the rest of the atmosphere.
Rosalie, Emmett, Bella, Alice, and Edward agreed almost immediately.
We all turned to Esme.
"I don't think I'm ready to do that," she admitted.
"Okay," I agreed quickly, not wanting any pressure upon her. "If you change your mind, let us know, please," I requested.
She nodded, saying nothing more, while burying her head into Carlisle's chest.
The rest of us left the room, going to do our personal activities, which for me was running in the forest and then sitting in a meditative state, trying to find peace.
Seventeen days later Esme announced that she wasn't ready, per say, but would like to proceed.
"I'll need breaks," Bella reminded the group, even though her eyes were on me.
Smiling at her in acknowledgement of her statement, I sent her appreciation, as she was beginning to learn that my lack of being tuned into her needs wasn't personal.
"Do you want to hear everything?" Alice checked with Bella.
"Yeah," Bella appealed.
Esme's body language suggested that she disapproved and she oozed shame, but said nothing. No one else spoke up, indicating that we had agreed to Bella's request.
"We can go chronologically or by person," I offered to start the dialogue, believing that despite Esme's hesitancy the stories would do her some good.
No one spoke for a while. Esme broke the silence by requesting, "By person."
No one objected.
"I talked to Peter and Charlotte, and they declined, pointing out that this is more a Cullen matter, but were willing to add their perspectives if you believed it necessary," I informed them.
Everyone shook his or her head no, except Bella. Her body language indicated hesitancy to agree, probably because she wanted Charlotte's presence, but she didn't say anything, thereby giving her agreement.
We sat in the room pretty much in pairs. Emmett was in a large chair with Rosalie on his lap. Edward was on the floor with Alice in his lap. Carlisle and Esme were on the small couch with him having his hand around her shoulder. Bella and I were on the large couch, each at an end.
Emmett volunteered to go first, so started from hearing the dispatcher regarding the pileup on the highway and until moving to Alaska. Each time Bella needed a break, the others took the time to do their own thing. After the second break, I asked him to go hunting with me.
He eyed Rosalie carefully and then told me, "Rosalie comes with."
"Sure," I agreed, unsurprised at his stipulation.
His need to be near Rosalie in order to care for her was what I had assumed as to why he and I hadn't yet ready spent time together without her.
Rosalie, graciously, followed the scent of some moose, allowing me to follow Emmett alone on his hunt of a bear.
"Want to talk about it?" I probed as we ran.
He looked over at me sideways, taking a number of miles before he answered, "Not without talking about Rosie's stuff, and that's not on me."
"What about your emotions over the whole thing?" I suggested.
"It all sucks, you know?" he blurted out, as if relieving himself of a heavy burden. "James was after Alice from when she was human. It was bad luck that one, she was his singer, and two, that he ran into her again after all this time. None of that is on Alice or the family, but it put the family at high risk, Charlie died, Bella's got to be turned, Esme got badly hurt, and all because of that motherfucker."
At the last word his anger flared, and I tackled him, knowing he was always up for a fight. For the first time in our sparing, it wasn't fun and games. Emmett was in it for the kill, blinded by all the emotions he had been putting on the backburner, without doubt, in order to take care of his woman. It was an admirable trait, and one that we shared, but I didn't want it eating away at him. His near newborn strength was his greatest asset and anytime he got in a blow it caused damage. Fortunately, he rarely was able to get them in, and only the last one created skin on skin contact. Immediately, all of his guilt, shame, anger, frustration, irritation, disappointment, and worries flooded me. Quickly, I boxed them up and set them aside.
Rosalie had placed herself in a tree watching us.
I was grateful to her at how she allowed things to play out.
The sun was beginning to rise when he stopped, gave me a big smile, clambered up the tree Rosalie was on, and gave her a long intimate kiss.
Then, he dropped back down to earth and clapped me on the back, "Thanks man."
"Sure," I offered back, while then adding, "but some talking would be good."
Rosalie dropped down and grabbed his hand.
We three started walking at a slow human pace.
"The worst part was not being more of a help, you know," he grumbled. "I wanted to do more, to help more, to protect my family more, and couldn't. It sucked." He paused, but the emotions he emitted suggested that he had more to say, so I waited. "It's only now, after everything, that I realise that I could have used my technical skills better. You keep staying on the cutting edge, learning more, and I like the stuff I've learned, but I don't have the appetite like you do. I learn something, think its cool, and then skate along. How James used human technology against us caused me to see that the human world is changing so much that only having you know the more technical hacking stuff isn't a great move."
"Your program to find the camera was instrumental in keeping the secret," I reminded him.
"True," he agreed, "but I could have done more." He paused once more, but again seemed deep in thought. "I've always been the jokester and comedian. It was my role in my human family and then in the Cullens. Sure, in my human family I hunted for meat and earned a few pennies, but all my life I've coasted. Being a vampire made me think that I was impervious to all the nonsense and I was good. I was wrong. There are things that go bump in the night in our world, and I want to do more to be a protector for Rose and the family. Plus, I want to contribute more and learn more. Rosalie would have my nuts if I stopped being my awesome self, but the little I did allowed me to see that it's not an either or. Bottom line is that I want to take on more responsibilities, rather than being content with being the muscle."
"Nothing wrong with being the muscle," I pointed out.
"True, but more than anything else what James taught me is that life can change in an instant. It's made me even more appreciative of what I've got, but it also has been a kick in my butt." His emotions turned more jubilant while he added flexing his muscles. "All while still being the hot stuff."
"Maybe you could take some classes on gaming theory?" I suggested. "Hacking social media sites and removing pictures that contain us would also be helpful to me."
"Sounds cool," he mused. "How'd you out think James anyway?"
"I severely underestimated him," I countered.
"Yeah, no one guessed that he'd be so tuned into human technology and know how to use that shit so well," he agreed.
"We could have ended him earlier if we had known and thought about tracing the signal," I added.
"As a family, we often don't think about other vamps using technology as well or better than us," Emmett admitted. "And our strategies were all non-technology related. It worked out, kind of, in the end, but I don't want us to be caught on the back foot again because we made the same assumption. We have the money and connections to be on the cutting edge of everything the humans create."
"Agreed," Rosalie and I said almost simultaneously.
"The non-technological approach is all me," I stated. "I fell back onto my old training. I need to up my game too."
Emmett punched my shoulder in a 'you're an idiot' kind of way.
"The humans are creating more and more technology to go into their cars and electric cars are the future," Rosalie put in. "I was thinking about how with the right skills someone could track us via these inventions. I want to take some courses in order to create a false digital trail, in order to keep the information to the cover story, rather than our true locations."
"It's going to get harder and harder for us to hide in plain sight," Emmett admitted.
"We're going to have to rely on Alice less and on our own skills and capacities more," I argued.
"I'm all for that," Emmett agreed. "Take a load off the munchkin and let us step up more."
Rosalie said nothing, but her emotions suggested that she liked that idea.
"Let's find us a bear," Emmett insisted, running off in a random direction, but staying close enough that we could hear him easily.
Rosalie and I smiled at each other before following him.
"I'm here if you want to talk," I told her.
"I don't like talking, you know that," she teased.
"Do you need a wrestle also," I jabbed back.
"Ugh, no!" she exclaimed. "You men and fighting! What does it solve?"
"Getting the aggression out," I offered in a teasing tone.
Without warning, even from her emotions, she pivoted and came at me.
She had always been a fierce fighter who used her body and brain to fight smart. She was more challenging than Emmett to avoid her jabs, but when she hit, it was clear that we were sparing and not actually fighting. She kept her fists to my chest and her kicks to my legs, but after my tussle with Emmett, and thus clothing rips, a few hit skin. Her emotions that entered me were the ugliness that usually was at her deepest level, combined with her own form of guilt, shame, irritation, anger, indignation, disappointment, and despondency. My hope was that those inner most depth emotions could be worked through and she'd find more peace in the long term. Like Emmett's emotions, I boxed up what was sent to me.
After a few hours she stopped suddenly and then mused, "I suppose that does help some."
Emmett, who had been in the treetops watching us, started laughing heartily.
"I want you to teach me more," Rosalie stated, as she walked towards Emmett, who had taken off, no doubt looking once more for a bear.
His attempt to give us space, while staying near, was endearing and only one of a myriad of ways that he demonstrated his love for Rose and trust in me.
"Sure," I agreed.
"And not just the moves, but how to outsmart someone like that," she added. She took a deep breath and then confided, "I always saw Alice as impervious, you know. She had her gift to keep her from harm. She outsmarts everyone when we spar. Instead she walked into his lair, knowing she would be harmed, in order to end him and protect the family. I wouldn't have been capable of doing that."
"Is that what you're ashamed of?" I wondered, sending her compassion and my care for her, so she would know that I wasn't challenging her.
"Yeah," she agreed, barely at a whisper. "I like to think that I would do anything to protect the family, but this permitted me to see that I have a limit."
"Nothing wrong with that," I voiced.
"Maybe," she allowed, "but it does make me entirely more self-serving than you or Alice, and I don't like it. That's why I was avoiding you both."
"This might be hard for you to imagine, but the cost wasn't high for me. I don't see myself as self-sacrificing at all. It was the best course of action to win, and something within my wheelhouse," I attempted to explain.
She stared at me, her mouth agasp. Then under her breath asked to the air, "What happened to you, Jasper, that being sexually assaulted by that monster was an acceptable cost to defeat him?" Then narrowing her eyes at me, she told me, "That's fucked up."
I shrugged my shoulders and told her, "You can blame Maria."
"Oh, I do," she assured me.
"And he didn't assault me. I offered myself willingly in order to end him and get him to a vulnerable spot as quickly as possible," I explained.
"That might be even more fucked up than being assaulted," she informed me. "You have some very fucked up thinking about sex, Jasper. I blame Maria entirely, but you should go work that shit out."
"I'll just get right on that," I bit back.
"You do that," she countered harshly.
Running off towards Emmett, she was slightly behind. I heard her feet shift slightly before she flung herself at me. Deciding to be cheeky, I caught her and rolled us, so that I had her contained in a sort-of lovers embrace.
"If you wanted me that bad, you could have just asked," I teased.
She squirmed, trying to get out of my hold, and eventually screamed, "Ugh!"
Emmett came behind a tree nonchalantly and asked her, "You need help?"
"No," she insisted in a grunt.
She managed to get her fingers into my side and was moving them as if to tickle me. At one random spot on my back she came close to some embedded glass, which began to irritate me. I tried to ignore it, but was unsuccessful, so stood up, releasing her.
"Are you really ticklish?" she asked, her tone in disbelief.
"No," I answered gruffly.
"Spill," she insisted.
So, I told her about the game with glass, leaving out the sexual parts, so it wasn't a really truthful story, but it gave her enough information.
"Was that what I felt?" she asked, shocked. "Turn around and I'll dig it out."
Obeying, I allowed her to open me up and fish it out. Her emotions entering me while she did so was its own irritant, but in the end it was nice to have it removed. I used it as an opportunity to search her more deeply. Her emotions regarding me, via our connection, were sweet and tender, so I focused on them.
Emmett stood staring at me the whole time, his discharging emotions disbelief and horror.
"None of that," I admonished. "It's in the past. I've moved on."
"The more I learn about other covens' ways of being a vampire the more I'm appreciative of being a Cullen," Emmett stated. And then with a glare, told us both, "Bear."
"He's got a one track mind, I swear," Rosalie said with a chuckle.
"Two. Sex and food, and in that order," I teased.
"Then the two of you share something in common," she barbed back.
"Actually, I would be food and sex," I rebutted with a laugh.
It sounded like Emmett had found a bear, so I went searching for blood, while Rosalie went in a third direction following the scent of a caribou.
When we were all full and travelling back together, their emotional signatures as individuals, as well as a couple, and also the connection they each had with me showed signs of having been significantly repaired. I was grateful to have improved at least two relationships within the family, as James' altering my connections to the family long-term was unacceptable. How to improve things with Carlisle or Esme still hadn't come to me. Why my approach had worked for Emmett and Rosalie, but not Carlisle puzzled me. Although upon reflection, as we came closer to the house, I had to admit that Carlisle had declined and I had forced it. That seemed as the likely culprit. Annoyingly, that meant Carlisle had been correct; it had been down to consent.
We arrived back to the house and everyone gathered once more, so that Emmett could continue telling about the events from his perspective. By the time he ended the family's, as a whole, emotions were more intense and bent towards the complex combination that make up grief, including rage and desolation. However, him telling it and the family's support through the telling seemed to do Emmett some good.
After Emmett had finished, Peter found me in my room and pointed out, "You're going to need to hunt soon," sending me his concern, "and I thought you might appreciate Charlotte and I keeping you company."
Eying Peter critically, I was confused as to the timing of his offer, but trusted his ability and instincts. The only connection I could make was that somehow my aiding Emmett and Rosalie in their healing had triggered Peter's internal warning system.
"After the next person finishes," I told him, to which he agreed.
Rosalie decided to go next. Her story overlapped Emmett's in many ways, so it was briefer than Emmett's. Also in contrast, no one took any extended hunting trips. Nevertheless, with Bella breaks and other individual needs, it took nearly four days for her to concluded. From her we learned more details about Charlie and how she had used her medical knowledge to help keep him alive.
"I'm sorry I couldn't do more," she told Bella at the end.
Bella would probably never know what a big deal it was for Rosalie to have put her medical knowledge into action for Charlie's sake. It would have been a big boost to Rosalie, if it had made a difference. I was disappointed for both of their sakes. On a positive note, telling her story seemed to have helped Rosalie's emotions, particularly anger, disappointment, and despondency.
"Charlie's death is on James," Bella corrected, "but I'm glad to hear that he had you taking care of him."
Her words seemed to help mend Rosalie's guilt and shame to a degree that confirmed her self-assessment. It wasn't surprising, even her history, that her emotions were influenced by her helplessness in protecting those she cared about, particularly Esme.
The family then echoed to Rosalie sentiments similar to Bella's, with both Carlisle and Edward praising her actions and choices medically. The praise seemed to also be beneficial to Rosalie.
Thus far, sharing events had helped Emmett's emotions more than Rosalie's, but that was to be expected, as Emmett was a live and let live, action-orientated guy, where Rosalie was more of a brooder like Edward. In my view, it was a blessed relief on me that them sharing their experiences had aided them as much as it had, cutting the intensity and turmoil in about half for Rosalie and over eighty percent in Emmett. Without doubt, the family's acceptance of their choices and how they had handled the situation helped them both, which in turn offered me some relief.
After a few more comments, we took a break.
Charlotte let Bella know that the three of us were going hunting, and then we headed out.
"Do you need blood?" I asked them both, as we travelled deeper into the wilderness.
"Let's see how things go," suggested Peter.
"Fair enough," I agreed.