Carlisle POV
I didn't want to be here. In fact, I would have given just about anything to be anywhere but home right now. It was an odd feeling, considering that usually there was no place I would rather be, but today was different. Today Jasper was going to have to make a choice about where he would be living once he turned 18.
The past 24 hours had been hell, with both Esme and Alice approaching me to beg a little more time. Don't make him choose yet, Carlisle, if you pressure him he's going to run. Please, Daddy, let me work on him a little bit longer.
As much as I loved them, they were about to drive me crazy. I was trying to please both of them, help Jasper make the right choices for himself, and keep this family together no matter what he chose.
I knew that Jasper would be considered an adult as soon as he hit 18, but I also knew he was nowhere near ready to make rational decisions like one. Whether it was the result of what he had been through, or just general immaturity, Jasper didn't seem to have a very good ability to plan for the long term. Each choice is made based on what will get him through the day, alive and unharmed. The pattern repeated day after day. To Jasper, next week was barely worth thinking about, and next month might as well be next century.
Speaking of Jasper, there he was, eating an orange and working his way through a set of math problems. "Hey, Jasper."
He jumped, and gave me a nervous once over. My being home at this time of day was nothing to worry about, but he read my anxious tone in an instant. "You want to talk, huh?"
"Yes. We can do it here if you prefer." Everyone else was otherwise occupied, so the chances of someone eavesdropping were slim. Jasper might not know it, but I had already heard all about how I made him throw up the last time, and how I needed to be more gentle and kind. I had been gentle and kind for almost three months now; it was time for a little tough love.
"Here's fine." He pushed the orange peel into a neat little pile and leaned against his textbook. "What did you want to talk to me about?"
My raised eyebrow was all the reminder he needed to cut the bullshit and quit playing dumb. He heaved a deep sigh. "About what we talked about last week."
"Yes." As much as I ached to go to him and hold him, to reassure him that this would all turn out alright in the end, I didn't move. After all, Jasper knew better than anyone else how little those words would mean.
He looked at me for a long time, his eyes reading mine. "I'll stay." Then he opened his textbook and went right back to the problem he had been working.
Well, that was an anticlimax. I had been expecting screaming, throwing things, maybe even tears, anything but this calm acceptance. "Oh. Well, that' fantastic!" My happiness was clear in my voice, and Jasper smiled softly at it. "You're sure that this is what you want?"
Jasper squinted at me, seeming a little puzzled. "Are you trying to talk me out of it? Because, if you don't want me to stay, it's alright. I just thought you did." The last bit was mumbled down at the tabletop.
I rushed to reassure him. "No, I do want you to stay! I just don't want you to feel pressured into something you aren't sure about. I'm sure Alice has been badgering you all week."
"Just a little. She thinks she's been subtle about it, so I haven't called her on it. Yet." He gave me one of those secretive little grins.
Even now, he was shielding her. As much as it had worried me in the beginning, this relationship was the best thing that could have happened to either one of them. Alice needed Jasper, with his protective but vulnerable nature, so that she would feel safe in starting a relationship with him. For once, she was the one in charge of everything. The only request Jasper had made of her was that she love him, just as he was. Granted, that was a tall enough order, considering who Jasper was, but Alice was born to nurture, just like her mother.
The relationship between Jasper and Alice boiled down to one simple miscommunication. Alice strongly believed that Jasper was the one man who would protect her from all the other men in the world. Jasper was just counting on Alice to protect him from everyone, male or female, who scared him. Which was pretty much everyone outside this family, and probably some of the people in it.
That wasn't to say that they didn't genuinely care for each other. By 3:30 each day, Jasper was firmly planted in the front room, staring out the window and waiting for Alice to appear. He seemed somehow muted during the day, as if he only came to life when he was in her presence. He showed her all of his best schoolwork, as well as anything new he had learned on the guitar. It was almost like he was desperate to show her how well he could do things, so she would know that she had make a good choice with him.
I could have told him not to bother. That Alice would have loved him no matter what, because he was willing to do the same for her. To look past all the flaws and see someone worth loving. It was what Esme had done for me, Emmett for Rosalie. Anyone would be lucky to have that sort of mutual trust even once in a lifetime, and neither one of them was willing to lose what they had so recently found.
But I didn't say anything. The pair of them would hopefully succeed, but even if they didn't, they had do it themselves. Just please God, don't let it end too badly if it has to end. I didn't know if either one could handle the disappointment if things ended badly. They're big kids, Carlisle, nearly adults. You can't protect them forever.
Suddenly I realized that Jasper was staring at me, and I had entirely lost the thread of the conversation. "Huh?"
"I asked what the rules are now? Like, what I am supposed to do?" The math book had closed again, and he was leaning against the table, eyes worried.
"What do you mean?" Jasper worries about things that have no base in reality, but if I don't defuse him now, he'll worry himself sick before he asks again.
"Well, I'm not going to be a kid any more; I'm going to be an adult. There's got to be special rules that go along with that."
Poor kid. He was still expecting the rug to be snatched out from under him, as it had so many times before. But what exactly did he think he was supposed to do? Contribute money to running the family, like he was a tenant as opposed to our child? Offer to do more around the house? Just once, I would like for Jasper to tell me something straight out, without me having to constantly guess.
"I don't know, just stuff. I just want to know what you expect, before I fuck it all up and have to leave." He managed to keep his eyes on mine as he spoke, which I guessed was progress.
Apparently I wasn't going to get my wish, seeing as Jasper was going to be as vague as ever. "Jasper, sweetheart, we don't want you to leave." I tried to keep my tone as soothing as possible without sounding patronizing. "If we wanted you to leave, we wouldn't have offered to let you stay after your birthday. The rules don't change, alright?"
His head shook once and his eyes closed. It didn't take a genius to know that he didn't believe me. I took a moment again to wonder about him, and just how strong his bond to Alice must be, to put himself in what he considered to be constant danger just so he could be close to her. Desperately, I tried to find something to say to him. "How about we go over the rules again, so we're very clear?"
"Yeah." His skin had taken on that grayish cast that I didn't much like, the one that generally preceded a panic attack, or worse, a seizure. I sat, hoping it would encourage him to relax a little. "Jasper breathe. This is nothing to get all upset about"
But it was, in his mind at least. Jasper was big on rules, almost to the point of obsession. He had to know what was expected of him, so he could adjust his behavior accordingly. The problem was, he didn't do a very good job of generalizing house rules from one situation to another, or even from one week to the next. This was a perfect example. One tiny thing changed, and he was convinced he was going to be learning an entirely new set of behaviors.
It could be downright exasperating at times, but I forced myself to remain calm. Jasper was used to living in what was essentially a dictatorship, and, like most dictatorships, there wasn't much stability. Rules changed from day to day, moment to moment, and you either managed to keep up, or you dealt with the painful consequences. He expected the rules to change for no reason, so it shouldn't have come as a surprise to me that he expected them to change now.
"The rules are the same as always. I expect you to not hurt yourself or your siblings. I expect you to come to one of us, whether it's Alice, or Esme and I, if you have a problem that you need help with. I expect you to do the chores assigned to you, unless there is a very good reason that you can't. I expect you to try, whether you succeed or not. That's it, nothing is changing. Are we clear?"
I knew I had failed even before he shook his head. It was a tiny, broken little shake, one that told me he knew that we didn't understand each other, but he didn't know how to fix things. "Alright then, what specifically is bothering you?"
"I…." He trailed off, shrugging again. "I don't know?" The last part came out a question.
He had seldom looked so pitiful, but there was nothing I could do to help. We were not only speaking on different levels, I didn't even think we were in the same building. As always with Jasper, I was treading a fine line between leaving him to flounder on his own, and doing everything for him. Neither one was right, but it seemed like I was always at one extreme or the other.
I hated to leave the conversation on such a bad note, but we really didn't have anything else to say to each other. I wanted things to be different between us, for him to feel like he could reach out to me, but it was just too soon. Whether he would ever be able to do so was questionable, though I refused to give up hope.
Jasper had settled back down, one hand hovering over his textbook. His eyes never left me. Well, more accurately, his eyes never left the area over my left shoulder. He was afraid now, just like he always seemed to be when he had to make a clear decision.
A few seconds passed, during which I decided to it was time for me to go. Jasper was uncomfortable, and my presence was only making him worse. He would be fine, as long as I gave him some time alone and a chance to recharge his mental batteries and sort all of this out in his own mind.
I couldn't resist one more comment though as I paused in the doorway. "Jasper? I'm very glad that you decided to stay with us."
His smile was quick and nervous. "Me too." Except he sounded anything but glad. In fact, he sounded more like someone who had just had his heart broken.
It bothered me, not only because he was suffering, but because I didn't know how to make things better. If it had been Edward or Alice, I would have rushed to hold them. I could have joked with Emmett, though I was pretty sure he didn't know the meaning of being depressed. Even Rosalie would have welcomed me, if only so we could talk out the problem. Each member of the family dealt with problems in their own way.
But none of those things would work with Jasper. The only person he wanted to hold him was Alice. The rest of us could get away with light touches, but he hated being put in restraint, which was all a hug really was. Jokes didn't work either, at least not yet. Jasper was still to new to us, too sensitive to be able to laugh at himself and his problems like that. And as we had just proved a few minutes ago, trying to discuss his issues led us exactly nowhere. The only thing I could think of to try was to do nothing and pray he came to me instead. Other than that, I was stumped.
I managed to make it back out into the hall before my nerves caught up with me. I heaved a shaky sigh, and ran my hand through my hair. It should have felt good, the knowledge that he did want us, that he was willing to stay here of his own free will, but it didn't. If there had been any other viable options, Jasper would have chosen one of them. We weren't a choice, we were a last resort.
That thought hurt, far more than I would have admitted to anyone else. It seemed like no matter how hard I tried, I was failing with Jasper. That he was always on the edge of the family, never fully, or even marginally, comfortable with us. I had failed with children before, but there was something special about Jasper, something that hadn't been there before.
Esme was waiting in my study, pacing about and doing what she probably thought was cleaning, but was really just making sure that I wouldn't be able to find anything for a week. "How did it go?"
"He's staying." Even I could hear the desolation in my voice.
"So why are you so unhappy?" Before I could reply, she answered herself. "Because he's unhappy, right?"
I ran my fingers over the paperwork strewn all over the desk. "It's just that I'm tired of us being his last resort, the people he comes to when he's totally out of options. You should have seen his face, Esme. He doesn't want to be here, not really. He just doesn't have anywhere else to go."
She shrugged. "I don't think that's true. He has other options. He could go to Peter's foster mom; she would probably take him in. There are shelters, even in Forks, the streets; his PTSD could probably get him into a hospital somewhere. Not a good one, but it would be somewhere to sleep…" She stopped there, one eyebrow raised.
"None of those are good options, and you know it. Well, maybe going to Peter's, but his foster mother would call us immeadiatly and he must know it." I couldn't see what her point was in all this.
"Of course they aren't good options, but they're options none the less. We aren't the last resort."
She was taking this awfully calmly. Of course, Jasper had a better relationship with Esme then he did with me, which probably contributed to her confidence.
I reached out to hold her, pressing my face into her hair. It was hard, but I had to ask one last question. "Are we doing everything we can for him?"
With a soft sigh, she turned so we were facing each other, her arms coming to wrap around my shoulders. "Of course we are. What were you hoping for? That he would throw himself into our arms and be grateful for us saving him and taking him in? He's too old and too damaged for that, and you know it."
I was ashamed to admit that that was exactly what I had been hoping for. Just once, I wanted things to go easy with Jasper, for him to at least acknowledge how hard I was trying with him and for him. "I guess."
"Well stop. Jasper is who he is, and there isn't any point in wishing that he was different. I, for one, think he's doing fantastic. I was pretty sure that he would leave. Not that I didn't think he'd be back in a few weeks at the most, but he's doing pretty well"
She hadn't seen his face in there, or she wouldn't feel that way. "Maybe. I just can't help but feel like it's been too easy. Something's going to go wrong, it always does with Jasper."
She laid her head on my chest. "I know. But we can't worry too much about the future right now. We should be happy that he wants to stay, and worry about everything else as it comes."
It was good advice, but I still couldn't quite relax. The last time my instincts had told me something was wrong with Jasper, I had ignored it in favor of being happy about Alice's birthday party, and look how that had turned out. I forced a smile. "You're right."
Her hair flipped into her eyes as she cocked her head. "I never get tired of hearing those words. Now, I'm going to go talk to the newest member of the family, and see what he would like for dinner." She was nearly floating as she left, clearly overjoyed by what had just happened.
Esme might accuse me of expecting too much from Jasper, but, in her own way, she was just as guilty. She was getting too caught up in her vision of the perfect family, three boys, two girls, and forgetting the circumstances that had led Jasper to us. I couldn't crush her like that, though, so I kept my mouth shut.
The rest of the afternoon and evening passed uneventfully. I had expected Esme to all but be hanging banners and trumpeting the good news from the roof, but no one said anything about it. It was enough to make me wonder if I had hallucinated my entire conversation with Jasper.
It was Emmett's turn with the meal, but I told him to go upstairs and work on his homework instead. I wanted a chance to ask Esme what in the world was going on. She was setting the table, and barely looked up at me when she spoke. "Can you start the rice?"
"Sure." I measured the rice and water before turning back to her. "What's going on? Did you talk to Jasper?"
"Yes." Her voice was tight.
"And?"
"And I know what you meant earlier. He's miserable, Carlisle, and I don't know what to do to fix it for him. He doesn't want me to tell anyone about his staying, which scares me. We're going to lose him, aren't we?"
As much as I wanted to reassure her, I couldn't deny her words. Jasper had been paying me lip service today, telling me what I wanted to hear, as opposed to his true feelings. Deep down, I had known it then, and Esme knew it now, too. The only reason he would have to ask her not to tell anyone was that he didn't want to disappoint Alice when he disappeared.
I couldn't lie to her by saying no, but it would hurt both of us too much if I said yes, so I kept quiet and made the rice. This wasn't the first time we had been through this, thinking we were making progress when all we were doing was struggling to stay in place, but it felt like a fist to the gut every damn time. "I'm sorry, Esme. I wish…." I stopped there, because I didn't know what I meant to say. I wish we had never taken Jasper? That wasn't true. I wish he could be what we want him to be? That was true, but completely unfair. I wish that people would stop having children they don't want and can't possibly provide for? That was both true and fair, but irrelevant to the situation at hand. "I wish things were different."
"I do to." She heaved a shuddery sigh and took the salad out of the fridge. "We knew this going in, though. After all, what else is fostering if it isn't getting your heart broken over and over again?"
I wanted to do something to comfort her, but she pulled away from my touch to call into the other room. "Dinner! Come on you four!"
They filed in, as loud and chatty as ever. Edward and Rosalie weren't speaking, something that was rather unusual. Not that they didn't fight almost constantly, but usually it resulted in scream-fests instead of this heated silence. I made a mental note to talk to both of them later and try to smooth things over yet again. Emmett was studying frantically for a psychology test, barely even grunting a 'thank you' to Esme for the food. Normally I would have called him on his rudeness, but I was so overjoyed to see him finally taking an interest in his schoolwork that I kept quiet.
Alice wouldn't be joining us for dinner tonight, as she was spending the night with a friend. I had been a little reluctant to let her go on a school night, but it had seemed like the perfect opportunity to trap Jasper so that he couldn't run to her, so I had given my reluctant permission.
Finally, Jasper himself entered the room. He seemed alright, a little quiet, but nothing that was too out of the ordinary. This could have been any dinner, on any night. Except this shouldn't have been any night. This should have been a happy night, with all of us celebrating the fact that our family was finally becoming complete.
Surprisingly enough, it was Edward who first noticed Jasper's withdrawn behavior. "You feeling alright, Jasper? You don't look so good."
Jasper visibly flinched, a tightening of his entire body that I hadn't seen in nearly two months. "I'm just tired." His voice was a whisper.
Their quiet conversation drew the attention of both the other kids. Rose spoke first. "What's wrong, sweetheart, are you having bad dreams? You know you can come in with me if you need to."
Ever since the day he had his first seizure, something in Jasper had brought out the maternal side in Rosalie. She fussed over him, took him places and was always willing to drop everything and listen when he needed to talk to her. Still, knowing how she felt about men in general, it shocked me to know that she was willing to allow Jasper in her bedroom in the dead of night, with no prior warning. For the first time, I considered the impact his leaving would have on all of the kids, not just Alice.
"No, I really don't dream much at all anymore. It's just been a long day and I don't really feel that good."
She looked at Emmett, asking for confirmation of what Jasper had just said. He nodded, a strange look on his face. Mentally, I replayed Jasper's words, and realized that it was the truth. He hadn't had a screaming night terror in weeks and his sleepwalking had lessened. There were still a few scattered nightmares, but they seemed to be typical ones, nothing related to the abuse he had suffered. All in all, his sleep problems seemed to be vanishing.
That should have made me feel good, but it didn't. When I looked back at it, instead of seeing Jasper blossom, I was seeing him slowly shutting down. He had become placid and sweet, an absolute dream to deal with, but he was no longer really Jasper. And I had stood by and let it happen.
"Do you still want to practice tonight, or would you rather just rest?" Edward's voice was still quiet.
"Go ahead and do something with Bella, I'm going to go to bed early. Thank you, though." He pushed his steak around on his plate, not eating anything.
My heart sank. For weeks, Edward had been teaching Jasper to play the piano. Oddly enough, they weren't starting with scales or chopsticks or a duet of heart and soul. No, Edward had started Jasper off with a complicated classical piece. Several times I had wanted to step in and remind him that not everyone was a prodigy like him, and it might be easier for Jasper to start small, but something had held me back. Jasper always seemed so excited to spend time up there, and practiced every day without fail. For him to be so unenthusiastic now was completely out of character.
Edward knew it too, and gave me a worried look. I cut my eyes back at him, telling him silently to drop the subject for now. "Ok. We'll pick it back up tomorrow. You've just about got it."
"Ok." He swallowed his food with obvious effort. "May I be excused?"
There was no real reason for me to say no, so I nodded. "You may. Put your plate in the sink, the dishwasher isn't unloaded yet."
He did so in silence, looking like he was 80 years old instead of not even 18. "Thank you, Esme, dinner was very good. I'm going to go upstairs and lie down." Then he was gone, his heavy tread softening as he went up the stairs.
Everyone looked at me expectantly, as if I had any idea what was going on. How should I know? Jasper was as much of an enigma now as he had ever been. "Is everyone else feeling alright?"
One by one, they nodded. Jasper wasn't sick, and we all knew it, but no one went as far as to call me on it. There was an understanding among my kids, a pact that Esme and I had no part in. Sometimes, for no reason I could understand, they would just let me lie. Not only that, they would give no indication that they knew I was lying. It was just another mystery of the Cullen family.
I excused Rosalie from helping to clear the table in favor of having some time alone with Esme. We needed a little privacy to discuss Jasper, and where we went from here. I carefully scraped the plates before handing them over so she could wash them. A fragile silence had fallen, and neither one of us wanted to be the one to break it.
We were nearly done before she spoke. "Do you think one of us should say something? Or is that only going to make things worse?"
Good question. Too bad I had no idea what the answer was. If it had been Edward or Alice, I would have been up there already. But Rosalie would want to be left alone so she could sort it out in her own mind first. Emmett would have never left in the first place. No matter how much trouble he was in, he would much rather stay here, with us.
"I don't know. If we don't go up there, it sends the message that we didn't care about him, that we're perfectly happy for him to sit alone with his pain and fear. But if we do go up there, we're going to be further crowding him, which is just as bad." I had to pick the lesser of the two evils here, but which one was that?
"What about if just one of us went? That way it doesn't seem like we're ganging up on him."
That was a little better. "Who? He likes you better, but that might be why I should go. I don't want to ruin the confidence he has in you if I don't have to. We might need that more later."
She nodded softly, though I could tell how badly she wanted to go to him. "Alight, you go. Just…be easy on him, alright?"
I appreciated her not reminding me that she had been after me to be easier on him from the beginning, and if I had, maybe we wouldn't be in this situation to start with. I felt guilty enough at it was, even though I hadn't had any other choices. "I will."
The table was almost cleared by now, and I felt confident that she could handle the rest herself. I turned heavily, taking a deep breath to steady myself. I could do this. Jasper was only a child, and there was no reason for me to feel afraid like I did. You aren't afraid of him, you moron, you're afraid for him. You love him and you don't want to lose him.
Before I could leave the room, Esme rushed over and put her arms around my neck. "It will be alright. No matter what happens, it will be alright." Her voice trembled slightly, telling me that she didn't' believe her own words.
"It will." My voice was as shaky as hers. There wasn't much to do now but take a deep breath and go towards this latest confrontation.
Jasper's own room was empty, as it always was these days. Ever since I had given him permission not to use it, he had spent every night on Emmett's floor. It bothered me that he would rather sleep on a leaky air mattress on someone else's floor than in the queen sized bed in his own room, but what bothered me didn't matter. Jasper was the one who counted, and he found it soothing to have company and protection while he slept.
I knocked lightly on the door, but it was a mere formality. If Jasper didn't want to answer, that was too bad. This was still my home, and I wasn't going to allow him to shut me out like that. As I expected, there was no noise from within.
"Jasper? Can we talk?" I nudged the door open without waiting for an answer.
The only light came from the reading lamp in the corner, but it was enough for me to see that we wouldn't be having a talk tonight. Apparently just trying to get through today had worn Jasper out completely, because he was curled up on his mattress, completely asleep.
For a moment, I did nothing but look at him, taking the time to remind myself exactly why I was fighting so hard. He looked so sweet like this, relaxed and quiet, without the stress that seemed to radiate from him during his every waking moment.
As gently as possible, I reached down and placed a hand on his back. He slept lightly, and I didn't want to wake him up, but I couldn't resist reaching out for him, just this once. My touch was light enough that he didn't wake, just barely enough to feel the soft beat of his heart.
Even though I knew that he wasn't physically ill, I moved to lightly touch the backs of my fingers to his cheek. Just as I had suspected, his skin was cool. An illness would have been far too easy, a ready explanation for his strange behavior today. Jasper didn't move at all, which surprised me. He tended to shy away from having his face touched; probably remembering all the times it had been struck before.
There wasn't much for me to do now, unless I wanted to wake him up, which I certainly didn't. Instead I untangled his blanket from the foot of the bed and gently covered him up, taking care not to disturb him. Maybe things would look better in the morning.
It was only after I had straightened back up that I noticed his hands. Ever since we had brought him home, I had noticed that he frequently shook or rubbed at them, almost as if he were trying to ease tension. Careful questioning had revealed that he had deep muscle pain in both, too deep to be normal.
Naturally, my first thought was that Maria had done something to him, even though he insisted nothing like that had happened. He hadn't liked it, but I had taken him back to the hospital and had both hands X-rayed, expecting to see old fractures. There was nothing. No healed fractures, no arthritis, absolutely nothing that should be causing pain in a 17 year old boy.
They had suggested running further tests, to see if the pain was some sort of phantom sensation resulting from the blow to his head, but Jasper had refused to go. Then there had been other crises with him, and his hands had just sort of faded to the back of my mind.
Until now. For the first time, I was getting a clear picture of what Jasper normally looked like when he slept, and it provided quite a few answers. Even though he was deeply asleep, both of Jasper's hands were clenched into tight fists, so tight that the knuckles were white. If he slept like this night after night, it was no wonder he had pain when he woke up in the morning. My own fingers ached just looking at him.
I gently reached out and took one of his hands in mine, intending to see if I could get him to relax. As soon as I touched him though, he whined and jerked his hand back, pulling it again to his body. Alright, I could take a hint.
There wasn't much else for me to do but readjust the blankets (which didn't need to be adjusted at all, but I had to do something) and close the door. It left me with the worry that this was all I would ever be able to do for him. Just offer a few pats on the back and a blanket, no matter how much more he needed.
I should have felt relieved as I went back downstairs. After all, I had escaped an ugly confrontation with Jasper, which would have ruined the night for all of us. He was getting the sleep he needed, and no one was unhappy at the moment. I had bought myself an entire night to think things over, and figure out exactly what I was going to say to him tomorrow. Still, I couldn't help but feel like I was missing something.
The rest of the family was still downstairs, but I couldn't find the energy to join them. Maybe tonight would be a better time to catch up on some of the patient files I had been neglecting lately. Still, if I didn't go down there, they would worry. I stood on the step, warring with myself.
"Does he want company?" I had been so focused on my own internal battle that I jumped when Emmett spoke. "You know, he might want someone to play Nintendo with."
I had to smile at him. It was nearly 7, and Emmett watched Jeopardy every night at 7, come Hell or high water. I wasn't quite sure why, as he very seldom had the correct answer, but he loved it. His routine was so set in stone that we automatically turned the channel for him now, and I would swear he could hear the theme song from anywhere in the house. But family was everything to Emmett, and he would gladly forgo his favorite show if he thought Jasper needed him.
"No, he's sleeping up there. Try and be quiet when you go to bed tonight, ok?"
"Always am. Do you want to watch with me?" He sounded so hopeful that I had a hard time saying no. In Emmett's mind, the only thing better then getting to yell things at the screen was having a witness, so he could make up any number of amusing ( and completely wrong) answers. He was a born comedian, and any other night I would have been glad to sit and listen to his antics.
But not tonight. Tonight I just wanted to be alone with my work and my thoughts, trying to figure out how exactly I had gone wrong with Jasper. "Not tonight, son. I'm behind at work and I need a little time to catch up. If any of you need me, I'll be up in my study. Don't forget to come say goodnight."
He accepted that easily enough, just like he always did. Not for the first time, I wished for Emmett's strength. No matter what life threw at him, no matter how large or small the disappointment, he accepted it and moved on. No fussing, no holding a grudge, just calm acceptance. The rest of this family could take a few lessons, including me.
It was lonely in my office, but the stacks of files and articles did provide a distraction from everything else that was happening. Time lost its meaning as I went through file after file, making notes about upcoming surgeries and trying to plan for any problems that might arise. One by one, the kids came up to say goodnight, offering kisses and reminders of all the little things that your children forget to tell you until the night before they have to have it done. Apparently I had two permission slips to sign, a check to write for Rose, and someone needed to get some canned goods together for the food drive. Ah, life with teenagers.
Esme came up around midnight, and told me in no uncertain terms that I would be coming to bed right now. I only had two files left, but I knew that arguing with her would be pointless, so I turned out the lamp. "Alright. Did you get the run down from the kids?"
She put an arm around me as we walked to the bedroom. "The permission slips are already signed. You have the checkbook, but Rose doesn't have class until ten, so you don't have to do anything right away. Canned goods are packed and Edward is going to take Alice's textbooks with him tomorrow."
It was nice to have someone who was on top of things. I hadn't even known Alice needed anything, which made me realize that I had missed her call. "She didn't want to talk to me?"
She started laughing. "Carlisle, she's seventeen and spending the night with two of her girlfriends. She wouldn't have even called me if she didn't need those textbooks." Her hair tickled as it brushed over my neck. "She isn't a little girl anymore, having to call Mommy and Daddy just to hear their voices. I'm sure she'll have plenty to say to you tomorrow."
Probably about how I was terrorizing her boyfriend again. "I guess." It just hurt to think it would only be a few years before they would all be out of the house, and it would just be Esme and I again. It seemed so strange to think about. After all, hadn't it been just a few years ago that I had been carrying Edward over the threshold of his new home?
It was much later than I usually got to bed, and I fell asleep quickly. Like any parent, no matter how deeply you sleep, there was always a small part of me that remained alert for any sounds of distress from my children. Even if those 'children' were nearly grown and mostly outweighed me.
Which was why it came as such a shock when I was woken, not by a noise, but by a small, cold, touch on my wrist. I looked up, and my eyes locked on Jasper's. "Hey." I kept my voice soft, so as not to wake Esme. "What's wrong?"
He didn't respond, just kept staring at me. The light coming in from the window made his skin look paler than ever, giving it an almost blue tint. His pupils were huge, too large to be accounted for by the dim light alone. "Jasper, are you awake?"
Still nothing. He was sleepwalking again, he had to be. It was surprising that he would come in here, though. Actually, I couldn't remember him sleepwalking into anyone else's room, not even once. Most of the time he couldn't find his way back to his own, and would either crash on the couch or wander around until Emmett realized he was missing and led him back to bed.
I sat up. "Come on; let's get you back to bed."
His head shook once, and his eyes never left mine. That was strange. For the most part, sleepwalkers are incapable of maintaining eye contact with someone speaking to them. "No? Why not?"
He looked at me a second later, before mouthing something that I didn't quite catch. "What was that?"
I was watching for it this time, and was able to understand the words. I'm sorry.
"You're sorry? For what?" Even as I spoke, I felt something drip onto my hand. What the..?
I switched on the light next to the bed, my horror growing. Blood had soaked through both the sleeves of Jasper's pajamas and my own, saturating the fabric and turning it a glistening red. As I stared, the steady stream continued to drip down both of his hands. Jasper had cut his wrists. The pale, cold, skin, the dilated eyes, all signs of extreme blood loss. If I didn't do something quickly, he was going to die.
"Jasper, what did you do!" Even now, my voice was soft, though it was more from shock than anything else. How could I have possibly missed the signs that he was suicidal?
Hurriedly, I wrapped one of my hands around his nearest wrist, trying to apply pressure and staunch the flow. With the other, I touched his throat. The pulse was thready and way too fast, as his heart tried to make up for the lack of blood in his body. This was bad, this was so bad.
It would take almost 15 minutes for an ambulance to get out here. Even if I applied pressure, there was a very good chance that Jasper was going to bleed out on my bedroom floor. I finally found my voice. "Esme, call 911!"
"What?" Her voice was groggy as she leaned over to touch my shoulder. "Carlisle, what's wrong?"
How could she not see what was happening? The coppery odor of blood was stifling in the small room. "Jasper cut his wrists!"
"Where is he?" She was awake the instant she realized one of the kids might be in trouble.
"What do you mean, 'where is he'?. Esme he's right…" My voice trailed off because Jasper was no longer standing next to the bed. In fact, he was nowhere to be seen at all.
When I looked down at my hands, they were clean. There was no blood on my clothes, none on the sheets. It was as if Jasper had never been there at all. But he had, hadn't he?
Now Esme was looking worried. "Carlisle, are you sure? Because no one is in
here."
I had been, but now I wasn't. "I…I guess I could have dreamed it." I pushed the last of the covers away and stood. The door was half open, just like always, the hallway undisturbed. No blood on the floor, none streaking the walls. My racing heart began to slow a bit. It had just been a dream, a horrible, horrible dream. Jasper was fine.
Still, I knew I wouldn't be satisfied until I saw him with my own eyes. Emmett had closed the door when he went to bed, which was always his habit. I wasn't quite sure why, but he hated to sleep with an open door, or even one that was slightly ajar. I eased it open, taking care not to disturb the pair inside.
Emmett was snoring loud enough to wake the dead, leaving me to wonder again how in the world Jasper slept through it. As for Jasper himself, he was still lying on the mattress, his soft breathing completely drowned out by the racket in the next bed over.
I crouched down next to the air mattress, looking closely at him. He was very quiet, his only concession to the passing hours being that his head was turned the opposite was from how it had been resting before.
He was clearly fine. Even in the reflected light from the hallway, I could see that his color was good, not the ghostly white from my dream. There was no blood on the sheets and while the room didn't smell the best, with two teenage boys calling it home, it didn't have the metallic smell of blood either.
Finally satisfied, I could draw a normal breath. The nightmare had been unusually vivid, I could still feel the stickiness of his blood on my hands, see the abject apology in his eyes. My stomach rolled at both images.
"Carlisle?" Esme had followed me, still not knowing what was going on. "What's happening?"
I stood up and slipped out of the room, gesturing for her to come along with me. I knew I was too keyed up to sleep, so I led us down to the kitchen instead. Maybe some tea would calm my racing nerves. My hands shook as I fumbled with the pot, and Esme took it from them, setting it on the counter and wrapping her arms around my shoulders. "Babe, talk to me."
The words stuck in my throat. Even with seeing that Jasper was alright, I couldn't shake the feeling that saying the words out loud would somehow make them really. "I…I just had a bad dream."
"That Jasper tried to kill himself." There was no doubt in her voice.
Hearing the words come out of her mouth was almost as bad as having them come out of my own. "Yes. God, Esme, he was bleeding all over the place and I thought he was going to die."
"But he was alright when you checked on him?" She knew that he had been. If there had been the slightest sign that something was wrong, I would have told her immediately. She just wanted to hear me confirm it, almost as badly as I needed to say it.
"Passed out asleep. It's just…God, I thought it was real."
She only let go of me long enough to turn on the burner and start the tea. "It wasn't."
No, it wasn't. But there was something there that I couldn't deny, no matter how much I wanted to. Unlike Alice, I didn't actually believe that dreams foretold the future. If they did, it would be so much easier, but there was no real way for us to know what was coming. The only thing we could do was accept things as they happened, and cope as best as we could with the aftermath.
Dreams didn't tell the future, but they could say quite a bit about the present. They picked up and mused over all the little things that happened. All the things that you didn't notice at the time, or refused to acknowledge, or just plain forgot were still in your mind, spinning aimlessly until your subconscious makes them into a dream in an attempt to get you to notice them.
My dream was telling me that Jasper was not only at the end of his rope emotionally, he was swinging from it by his fingernails. He was under pressure from all of us, trying to be a good brother and son, a nice boyfriend. He was expected to do well in his schoolwork, attend therapy, and still find time to just be himself.
Mentally, I reviewed Jasper's week. Mondays was visiting Felix in the morning, and the tutor in the afternoon. Tuesday was physical therapy. Wednesday, Felix again. Thursday, the tutor in the morning and PT in the afternoon. Friday was a third visit with Felix, as well as extra school help if he needed it. Saturday was spent with the family, doing various things. In addition, he usually took Alice out on Saturday nights. That left Sunday for him to do as he pleased.
Only he didn't even really have that. His brothers had taken to getting him up early, despite me reminding them that he needed to get proper rest, and taking him out back to practice his baseball skills. He was actually getting to be quite a good catcher, a position where he didn't have to move around too much. Batting presented more of a problem for him, not because he couldn't hit, but because he had trouble getting up to speed on his bad leg. He was learning to adapt to it though, moving with a leaping gait that looked odd, but got him where he was going with a fair amount of speed.
In other words, Jasper was overbooked, overworked, and completely overstressed. And I had somehow not only managed to miss it all, I had actually convinced myself that this was all in his best interests. He needed to go to therapy, both with Felix and a trained physical therapist. It was necessary for both his long term physical and mental healing. Still, five times a week seemed like a lot. Maybe I could cut the PT down to once a week? Jasper was good about practicing, and he got plenty of exercise with his brothers. I was afraid to send him to Felix any less, considering how badly that flashback had taken us all by surprise.
I guessed I could cancel the schoolwork for now, but Jasper was making such good progress that I hated to do it. What good is academic progress, Carlisle, when he has a nervous breakdown trying to get there? It was a good point, but I was afraid that if I got rid of the tutor, Jasper would think he had done something wrong, and be even more uptight. Damn, there were no easy answers with this kid.
The one thing I was sure we were doing right was spending as much time as possible with him as a family. Despite his reluctance to make a formal stand and join us, Jasper clearly enjoyed watching us interact, and was even starting to show some normal, appropriate responses to us himself. It was a slow process, filled with false starts and dragging feet, but I was grateful for every second.
"He's going to be alright." Esme pushed a mug of tea into my hand. "We're going to have to do a few things differently, that's all."
I wondered at her optimism, even after all this time. "How?" She had doctored the tea perfectly, just a splash of milk, and a little hint of honey. Either she had super speed to do that without my noticing, or I had been more lost in thought that I realized.
If I lived for three hundred years, her smile would still be the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. "You know what they say?"
I was pretty sure that I did, but I wanted to hear it from her lips. "No, what do they say?"
She laughed, and I revised my earlier thought. That laugh outclassed her smile any day of the week. "If at first you don't succeed…."
Yep, I had known. "Try, try again."
She took my empty cup. "Yes. Obviously, something's going wrong with Jasper right now. Fine. At least we recognize that fact, and are taking steps to fix it. We'll figure something out, and if that doesn't work, we'll try a third time, then a fourth. Something's bound to work eventually."
Her strength leant me some of my own, and the fist that had been clenching in my chest finally relaxed. Jasper might not be 100% on board with this, but he had agreed to stay, and I had to hang on to that. As long as he was still with us, there was a chance that we could make things better, as a family. "Esme, I love you."
"I love you, too."