Over the course of the few days during their little vacation, Bella has come to realize a few things about her complicated companion.
She'd already been aware going into this that his mind wasn't quite… right. But with his little alteration of character yesterday, she is now more aware than ever the severity of the situation. Multiple personalities…
And who knows how many more are stuffed into that head of his, what with the way he volleys from one mood to the next in the course of a few minutes, quick enough to give her whiplash.
Another thing she's come to realize: he's a magnet for trouble. As if echoing her thoughts, the television hanging in the corner of the diner blares with alarming intensity. A professional anchorwoman with eyes blown wide repeats the same headline that has been going non-stop for the entirety of the day.
A dangerous animal, perhaps a rabid bear or mountain lion, responsible for the utter butchery of a library security guard.
Bella drops her eyes to her half-finished burger as the news program goes on to tell of the man's grieving family.
Yes, it's… complicated, if that's the right word. But she'd known that going in. And now she is responsible for the death of a man with a family of three.
Her throat tightens and she gives up on the idea of her meal. Leaning back into her booth, she gazes out of the window into the night beyond.
The origin of her woes is somewhere out there, prowling the woods for a meal. She prays there are no hikers out there.
It's not like she blames him. He is no more in control of his emotions than that of an abused animal that turns to bite any hand that comes near it.
She shakes her head- she's got to stop comparing him to a wounded animal. It's dehumanizing and he deserves better than that. No, he's a wounded man, with unimaginable atrocities committed against him, left with a shattered mind in return. It makes her heart flinch to even consider it.
She's at a loss though. How many more innocents would die at his hands? It's not like she can stop him, no more than a mouse could stop the closing jaws of a wolf. What can she do, besides stay by his side and help him recover?
With a trembling lip, she drops her head and takes a shaky breath. It's not enough. Not enough to stand by and hope that fate doesn't bring another poor and unsuspecting soul into the maws of death.
But there's nothing she can do.
Nothing.
Edward stands, crushing the remote in his grip and flinging it at the t.v. No one in the Cullen house bothers to flinch.
"It's him," Edward rages. Rounding on Alice, perched on the kitchen countertop, he stabs a finger in her direction. "I told you, I told you this was a bad idea. But no one ever listens to me! And now that- that thing has Bella and has already gone on a murder spree. This is on you," he snarls, "on all of you."
The Cullen's shift but say nothing. Perhaps it is their fault? Should they have put him down when they had the chance?
Carlisle rubs his jaw. "I thought if we could get through to him…"
Esme lays a hand against his shoulder. "We all did."
Edward tosses a table through the floor-to-ceiling windows. As glass rains to the floor, he says, "He'll only get stronger every day. We go now, before he can actually do something against us."
Carlisle sighs as every head turns toward him. Though Edward talks the loudest, it is clear who is truly in charge of the coven. "I agree with Edward. Not only to protect Bella and the civilians but if word gets out to the Volturi… well, it's just best if we handle this ourselves."
The room thrums with nervous energy as jaws clench and eyes darken with resolve.
She's barely a mile from the diner, walking a desolate dirt road away from the town when a familiar shape flickers into existence at her side. He keeps her pace, gazing at her without any reserve, with no mind for the common rules of civility.
Despite herself, she smiles gently at him, ignoring the wrench in her gut at the sight of the blood drying on his chin and down the front of his throat. She prays it belongs to an animal.
The barest twitch at the corner of his mouth, his version of a smile, one given only to her.
This personality, one characterized by silence and near cautiousness, she's come to call the Feral- with lack of a better name. This side of Jasper is ruled purely by instinct, with the smallest bit of humanity reserved for her and her only. For anything else, a threat or otherwise, is met with pure and unadulterated, wild ferocity.
This is the personality that murdered the night guard, either out of protection for her, hunger, or a twisted version of both.
Despite herself, she can't bring herself to fear feral Jasper. She only fears for the safety of others.
Another mile down the dirt road, gravel crunching beneath their shoes as her companion glides enviably gracefully and silent beside her, and they come upon her beaten old truck, inside which she grabs a rag and a bottle of water.
Pausing in the cab, she runs a hand down her face and can't help but chuckle humorlessly at her situation.
Here she is, miles away from home with a man she'd not known for even a month- not to mention that he could kill her with a twitch of a finger- with a few hundred dollars in the bank to support her on this foolhardy adventure, after losing the closest thing to a family she'd ever had.
Unbidden, stinging tears creep out of the corner of her eyes and pool to drip down her chin. Hunching into herself, she goes and sits on top of one of the metal picnic tables bordering the overgrown trailhead of the forest where she'd decided very few would wander near.
Propping her head in her hands, she tries to breathe through the steadily rising panic. It hurts, this feeling of loneliness, of feeling out of control. She doesn't care how weak it makes her sound, she's scared. What if she did something wrong? Accidentally hurt Jasper's mind, or had another person killed on her watch? It was all too much, too much-
The silent slide of fabric against her arm brings her head jolting up. Jasper settles beside her, arm pressed against her own, head dipped forward to look into her tear-streaked face.
"Sorry," she mutters, voice water-logged. Wiping fruitlessly at her puffy eyes.
His voice piercing the darkness makes her jump. "You don't have to be afraid."
This is one of his more lucid moments, the saner part of the feral man coming forward from the dark shadows of his mind.
"I'm not," she lies, snorting at the slight raise of an unimpressed eyebrow. "I just… I don't know what to do. I don't know what I'm doing. I told you I'd help you and I thought I was, leaving Forks. But what if I'm wrong? What if I've hurt you even more? What if I've taken away your only chance at a better life, and now-" the new surge of helpless sadness closes her throat once more and she clutches at the air uselessly. "I'm sorry Jasper. I'm so so sorry," she croaks. She's not sure why she apologizes. For ruining his chance at getting better? For the fact that he has to get better in the first place after whatever had ruined him had its way with him?
He must think her raving, a delicate little human not in control of her life let alone her mind.
Swiping away her tears, clearing her blurry vision, she sees his face contorted into a silent debate with himself. Confusion and helplessness the most dominant of all.
Immediate shame wells within her. It isn't his fault- he shouldn't be burdened with her own mistakes.
Sniffling, she once more catches sight of the blood caking his face. Wetting the rag, she hesitantly shifts closer to him and gently, ever so gently begins wiping away the sanguine liquid.
Her own wave of calm descends around her as his eyelids droop and he leans into her touch drowsily. Rubbing his chin as if he were a cat brings a soft, barely audible thrum of approval from the base of his throat. The comfort from the sound produced is astounding.
"As much as I'd like it," he murmurs, pressing further into her hand when she pauses. "You aren't my savior, Bella." Her breath catches at the sound of her name on his lips. "No one is. This is my burden, and my burden only."
She marvels at the sound of his voice, so rarely used.
"But you're here beside me," he continues. "And that's all I could ask for. I don't care what we do or where we go." He breathes, steadying himself, most likely as overwhelmed as she is by his sudden talkativeness. "If you need to, we'll return to Forks. This isn't your burden. I'm not your burden. You've done enough already."
Lip trembling, she sets aside the bloody cloth to instead run her fingers over his now clean jaw. He drops his head, purring once more as her fingers run through his hair. Leaning forward, he drops his head against her shoulder, a warm weight that makes her fears instantly vanish. "I don't know why you call to me so much…" he swallows again. "But I can leave right this second if you ask it of me."
Bella's hands stop but he runs his cheek along her shoulder blade until she resumes her ministrations.
Before she can reply, he speaks so softly she can hardly hear him.
"I can't even remember the last time someone touched me without violence. No, Bella. You've done enough already, just being here."
That last sentence is enough to send her tipping over that precarious ledge she'd been balancing upon. Tears freshly flowing, she turns her face into his soft hair and sobs silently.
Arms wrap around her waist, dragging her closer, and he once more descends into his characteristic silence as she heaves with emotion beside him. She shamelessly ugly-cries, relief beyond words flooding her heart at his acknowledgment that she has helped, she'd done something right. Her fondness for him grows, makes her heart swell.
She doesn't care how emotional she's being. It's been hard, leaving behind all that's she has ever known for a near stranger, constantly thinking she wasn't enough, in way over her head… only for him to say the exact thing she needed. No, she won't apologize for her tears.
They sit like that for an unknown amount of time, punctuated only by the rising of the moon and the stirring buzz of crickets perched within the forest.
She eventually tires herself out until she can cry no more. Exhaustion makes her bones leaden, her head heavy as it drops against his own, pressed cheek to cheek with his scent calming her even further.
This is nice. Peaceful. It's enough to make her decision worth it. And his warmth… gods. Weren't vampires supposed to be cold? Why is he so different?
It's just as she is dropping into sleep that Jasper brings her gasping awake, jerked awake so quickly that her head spins.
A terrible sound escapes his chest as he tenses around her, arms crushing her to his chest as he curls his body around hers. Face contorted into a monster-like grimace of absolute fury, the quiet man that had held and comforted her is long gone, replaced with his more feral counterpart.
Following his gaze, she looks out into the dark forest, having to wait long moments until she actually sees a silhouette of a man amidst the shadows.
The stranger's voice rings out. "Well, I'll be damned. Jasper Whitlock, back from the dead."
She tenses, Jasper roars, and the stranger grins.
"Been a while, Jazz. Why don't you come 'n give your brother a big ol' hug?"
Before she can breathe, she is alone, barely catching herself before she falls.
In the distance, trees crash and the terrible sounds of furious fighting rings out, the sounds of demons from the worst of nightmares come to life.
AN: Hey… please don't hurt me. I won't make any excuses, only apologize for my absence.
In other news, I'm thinking of starting an Overwatch fic starring my favorite edgelord Reaper. Would anyone be interested? Don't worry, I'll continue this fic as well. Please let me know in the reviews or via PM.
Have a wonderful week my friends!
-Iva