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The chapter is not betaed yet but I'm not strong-willed enough to keep secrets from you, my precious readers.

Chapter 20

Jasper's POV

Holy hell, an Agent… tracking us for years… knowing our every move... And he fucked both Alice and me. And now Alice is dead. Alice had a gun. Alice had a fucking gun. Holy hell... Edward is sitting next to me. He's staring at me. Why is Edward staring at me so intently...

"Careful, Jasper. Told you not to get used to shallow breathing."

Oh, he's talking to me. Why is his voice so distant... My chest hurts. My head hurts. There's blood in my mouth again. Oh, and bile. I'm going to throw up.

My mind blankly registers that thought while the contents of my stomach erupt out of my mouth, all over my chin and cheeks, leaving sticky trails towards my ears. I'm coughing, each spasm stabbing a scorching knife in my insides. Edward is already cleaning up my face, this is pleasant. His eyes are connected with mine; there are moments when his face becomes blurry but then comes back in focus, and it's a real blessing to observe his features. The little hairs that stick out of his fascinating eyebrows. The mess of hair over his head, which forms the weirdest hairdo. The delicacy of his lips, the immaculate outlines of his chin and cheekbones, the impeccable, babyface skin. And his eyes. My dear Lord, his eyes, two green miracles, encasing my very soul with their magic… Oh, there I go, running out of focus again.

"Jasper, breathe!"

A hand slaps my left cheek. Hurts. My eyes open wider along a sharp intake of breath. Breathing hurts too.

I'm hurting so much. Everywhere. I'm hurting every-fucking-where. I hate this pain, what did I do to deserve so much pain? Wait, I did a lot to deserve it. I'm a piece of shit, and I know it. And everybody in this room knows it. I'm worthless, I'm a parasite, I'm dirt. I deserve to be aching, I deserve to suffer, I deserve to die. I should be lying down there on the floor next to Alice. I shouldn't have the right to walk on this planet, Edward shouldn't soil his blessed, healing hands with me. Stop stroking my cheeks, Edward.

I fight for each breath. A new wave of bile is attempting to surface, but there's nothing left inside me; the only thing that comes out of my throat is the longest wail. None of this should have happened.

Edward's fingers are still stroking my cheeks and now I register they're wiping away my tears. I've been crying. Since when am I crying? Am I allowed to cry? I don't deserve the right to cry, I don't deserve the right to be comforted. I'm evil.

Edward's face is blurry again.

"Breathe, baby! Jasper! Come back to me!"

Another slap.

I hear my sister's sobs. "What's wrong with him? Is he okay?" She's asking.

Sweet Rosie, are you okay? What kind of a brother am I, I have no idea how she's coping, sitting there by the remains of her best friend - now hidden under a bedsheet. I am grateful Rose has Emmett to soothe her; and even more grateful someone has covered the dead body.

I can't speak yet, there's a lump in my throat which wouldn't allow me to utter a word. But now my field of vision has somehow widened, I spot the Agent talking on his phone in the faraway corner of the room, one hand holding his mobile and the other pressed to his ear to block the noises we make. Right, I should not wail any longer, he needs to finish his conversation and get us out of here.

Edward's thumbs wipe away the last traces of my tears. I must have sobered up, and my eyes are dry. Within the last few moments the lump in my throat has dissipated. I try to produce a sound, tell Rose I'm okay.

"I'm… fine." It's more of a whisper, not the desired steady voice which would assure her I was really fine. She presses her face into Emmett's chest with another sob. No answer. I really don't need one. There's no answer to our unasked questions.

What's going to become of me and my sister now? Will he really not press any charges?

The Agent's muffled conversation is over and now he's addressing us.

"You should pack. Be careful not to leave behind any of your belongings. Alice's stuff should stay though. Go, Miss Hale, Mr. McCarty. Doctor Cullen and I here will help Jasper."

They are not helping me, they are actually doing it for me. Edward seems relieved to have a task at hand, and not stay in one place. He's sort of enthusiastic, gathering my stuff from every drawer and shelf. Riley's busy cleaning out the bathroom.

Less than ten minutes, and most of my life is neatly tucked in my two suitcases and a backpack.

Another part of my life remains under that bedsheet, gone forever.

"I'll take these," Riley says, lifting my baggage. "You two, ready to go? Can you walk, Jasper?"

Can I?

Edward is supporting me, I do my best not to shriek when the pain stabs my insides again. Here, I'm on my feet, making one small step after the other. Hurts.

The Agent is gone, it takes us something close to eternity to make it to the door. Almost all of my weight is on Edward, he's supporting me with an arm around my waist, I'm embracing his broad shoulders and literally hang from him, dragging my feet.

"Look, this won't do," he says, and the next moment I'm in the air, carried bridal style, arms still around his neck.

It strikes me we're the exact opposite of newlyweds. Not entering a home, but making our way out. Not starting a future together, but running away from the terrible past.

And unlike the newlyweds, we will, probably, be separated very soon.

I'm carried towards a silver Volvo, were my baggage is waiting. There's no sign of the Agent, I assume he's back inside to help Rose and Emmett. I'm gently dropped back to my feet, and Edward opens the back door for me. I throw him a questioning look.

"What? Wanna drive?" He smirks.

"Passenger seat, please."

"I thought you would be more comfortable in the backseat, with more room to lie down if you need to."

"Passenger seat, please."

With a shrug, he shuts one door and opens the other. Then I use the car roof and his shoulder for leverage, and sit myself as comfortable as possible. No way I'm telling him how bad it hurts. Not seeing his face would kill me during the drive, so, passenger seat, period.

He shuts the door and disappears to the car trunk, busying himself with my suitcases. I hear voices, a car engine roars somewhere near, then a black Mercedes aligns with the Volvo and Riley is waving at me from behind a half opened glass. Edwards throws himself next to me with the same enthusiasm I spotted before, and turns the ignition key.

"Off we go."

It's a beautiful day. One of the rare times when the sun is brightly shining in the late afternoon skies and the clouds are very, very distant. Edward drives in silence. When I try to ask him how he's doing, he interrupts me. "I need some time to think, Jasper. I don't know what to make of this mess right now." And there's no more talking.

By the time we approach Forks, it's dark, and it's raining.

We stop in front of the Police station, Riley's Mercedes honks twice.

Chief Swan's silhouette appears within the outlines of the station entrance, and his hand waves at us. He's not surprised to see us, obviously. He's been waiting for us. My stomach turns.

I'm carried inside. Even before we're all gathered inside the Chief's office, I'm trembling for two reasons. First, I see loads of food served on a side table and realise I'm starved and crave a bite of a sandwich. Second, there's a person seated in a chair to my left, and that person is Tyler Crowley, our Forks' accomplice, munching at a croissant and staring blankly in my direction.

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