A/N Thanks for all the help and support of August Shaffer, MoonWolfRunner, feebes 86, and Mist. They help keep my stupid moments at a minimum. A massive thanks to WestCoast Angel for the gorgeous new banner for this story. Link on my profile.

And to all the readers of this story, THANK YOU for sticking with me. I heart you all!

I needed a tissue when writing this, so heads up. Hope you guys like. Stephanie Meyer owns Twilight and its characters, I merely play in her sandbox.

~B of L~

Chapter 12: Hemorrhage

Songs: Hemorrhage (In My Hands) - Fuel; Not Gonna To Make Nice - Dixie Chicks

'Forgive, sounds good

Forget, I'm not sure I could

They say time heals everything

But I'm still waiting

'I'm through with doubt

There's nothing left for me to figure out

I've paid a price

And I'll keep paying

I'm not ready to make nice

I'm not ready to back down

I'm still mad as hell and I don't have time

To go round and round and round

It's too late to make it right

I probably wouldn't if I could

Cause I'm mad as hell, can't bring myself

To do what it is you think I should'

Not Ready To Make Nice - Dixie Chicks

Previously on Breath of Life:

As she heard the doors slide closed behind her, she inhaled a deep, delicious breath. Mixed along with all of the other smells of pine, rain, and the sea that she had always loved about Washington was the most exquisite scent of all, freedom.

BPOV

My levity was short-lived when I saw Charlie storm out of the hospital after me. The look on his face was a strange mix of determination and apprehension.

Now? You want to do this now?

We hadn't seen each other really since breakfast at the Blacks, and we hadn't spoken more than one word sentences since his accusations against Paul. Of all the times he could have approached me to talk, he picked now.

Men were fucking clueless!

"I know you are upset with me, but you were terribly rude to Dr. Cullen."

Really? That's what this is about?

"Do you know what I have gone through today? My apologies for not feeling like shooting the shit with you and Dr. Jekyll. You never want to talk when we are alone."

"That's not fair Bella. I have tried to spend time with you, but you are always gone."

"Three weeks hardly makes you Father of the Year." Silence fell between us with my snarky reply.

"So, tell me, what was the reason for your change of heart," I asked conversationally.

"This is not the place for this discussion. You're upset. You should rest," Charlie back pedaled. He realized a little too late that he had opened Pandora's Box. I could see the fear in his eyes.

"No, you're wrong. This is EXACTLY the time." I am so done with his avoidance.

"Bella..." Charlie stared at me with a look of pure and utter sorrow. Any other person and any other conversation, I would have been inclined to stop.

But I needed to know. And he needed to admit it.

"What did I do? Do you have any idea how long I have wondered about that?"

He was silent as ever.

"Do you know what my first memory was?" I asked rhetorically.

"I wasn't even four years old, but I remember that visit like it was yesterday." I began as I stared into his hazel eyes. "Grandma Marie had put me in a new dress, and fixed my hair in pigtails with little pink ribbons to match my dress. She drove me to the airport and put me in the care of the airline. The flight attendants fawned over me and I had felt like a princess. I was so excited! Because I was coming home, coming to see you." I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself.

"And then I got off the plane. I saw you waiting for me and I ran and hugged your legs. You patted the top of my head briefly and turned to leave. You didn't say one word to me in the entire car ride. Not one. Not 'Good to see you!' or 'How did you like your first time on a plane?'"

"Bella..." Charlie choked out.

"So, that drive was my earliest memory. The feeling of disappointment that was almost palpable as I sat there and stared down at my little white sandals." And that was the last time Charlie had spent two hours alone with me for the next eleven years. Not until he drove me to the airport after Gran died.

"Instead of driving me home to your apartment, you took me straight to Gran's. I was devastated. I didn't know what I did wrong. I wasn't sure if you didn't like my dress or if you were mad at me for leaving with Renee.

"And the worst part hadn't been how you acted; I had quickly accepted that was the way it was. It wasn't really any different in how Renee treated me. Nana practically raised me until we moved to Arizona. No, the worst part was never knowing what I did wrong."

I looked away from the forest I had been staring at, and looked into Charlie Swan's tear filled eyes.

"That was a difficult visit, but it passed. And the rest of them were good, even fun. Gran had made sure if I wasn't being entertained by the three musketeers, her and me were in the kitchen or antiquing. I never made the mistake of expecting anything from you. You were always an invisible entity most of the time."

"Bella, please." He pleaded. He looked back to the hospital. Probably concerned someone would hear how much he differed from Sheriff Taylor, or any other decent father of film or television.

"No, really. I want to know. I think I deserve to know."

Was it being born at all? Was it because I was not enough?

"Your mother..."

"NO! What did I do to you? I'm the one who had to deal with the anger. I'm the one you treated like... shit. What did I do? Did I throw rocks at your car? Did I embarrass you in front of coworkers? What could I have possibly done to make you hate me so much?"

Charlie didn't move a muscle, even his chest was not moving. I held my contemptuous glare on him, unwilling to let this pass. As my head throbbed harder with each passing moment, my patience melted like a snow-cone in Phoenix.

"I WANT TO KNOW! What did I do? What did I not do?" I felt traitorous tears begin to fill my eyes.

"Your mother had an affair. She told me you were not my daughter."

I laughed humorlessly. It figures I got stuck with my mother's shit again.

"Well, there you have it. Perfect explanation," I quipped, the words dripping in sarcasm.

Silence descended between us for a moment. He had his head lowered in shame while I contemplated just going ahead and leaving.

They say that the truth will set you free. I had always felt that 'they' were liars.

I couldn't help but wonder who the little home wrecker could be. My mind immediately envisioned Harry Clearwater.

That would explain a lot.

Sue and Leah's disdain and Seth's indifference. The strange looks I got from Harry, a mix of curiosity and sadness.

Although we got along about as well as oil and water, I knew Charlie well enough that he would have never remained close friends with Harry if he knew of the affair. He had someone else in mind. Someone he would have immediately cut out of his life, or had despised to begin with.

I wondered who it could be, but then decided to forget it. He would only be the same as all the worthless pieces of shit that my mother had fucked all of her life. God knows I couldn't denounce her; I was the spitting image of her except for darker eyes, hair, and complexion.

No, not knowing was better. I'd take a page out of Embry's play book. He had always been at ease about his lack of a father, saying that his sperm donor did not define him.

I hugged him every time I heard him say it.

I shook my head to clear it, fully prepared to be content with my bastard's daughter status. It seemed fitting considering I was the daughter of a whore.

But, as always, curiosity dug its claws in and pried open my mouth.

"So, who is he?"

"Who?"

"My father. Who is my father?"

"Bella, I am your father." I couldn't swallow the snicker to his reply. Mainly because I was imaging Quil deep-breathing like Darth Vader, while Jake and Embry hummed his theme music.

"No, you're not. You never were. Let me rephrase the question. Who was the sperm donor?"

Charlie's gruff voice replied, "Bella, she lied to me. Alright, she lied so I would let you go."

"You would have found that out with a test. That explains maybe six months, tops. There is a decade past that."

"I... I never asked your mother for a paternity test." My jaw dropped of its own volition at his confession.

"So, you let me go on your cheating wife's word?" I asked incredulously. Dumbass! He's even more gullible than Phil is.

He didn't answer. He just merely looked down at the concrete for a crack to crawl into.

"Well, you know, good for you. You got rid of all of your baggage and got to live the life of a bachelor," I sneered.

"Why the charade though? Why pay to ship me back every Christmas and summer if I wasn't yours? When you didn't pay for anything else? Why..."

I stopped my inquiries as clarity struck me for the first time this afternoon, while I ignored the confused expression on his face.

"Gran. Gran paid for all that, didn't she?" I asked rhetorically. "Of course, I was the daughter she never had."

"So you tolerate my visits for your mother's sake. Wow, at least you were are a good son," I muttered sardonically to myself, but I was sure he heard it as he flinched.

My hand rose to my chest at the mention of my grandmother. I lifted my face to the early afternoon sun, the warmth acting as a balm to my aching heart.

"But she's dead Charlie. You don't need to pretend, because she'll never know. I never said a word to her about you. Okay, so don't worry."

"I'm so sorry, Bella. I tried. I tried but you didn't want anything to do with me..." he started but I cut him off.

"Why would I? You didn't even attempt to contact me in over eighteen months, and then you showed up out of the blue. And that right there was what infuriated me so damn much!

"What happened to make you change your ways all of a sudden? Nothing happened on my end. I was a pariah to you for around twelve or thirteen years. I was as dead to you as Gran. Maybe deader, because you never wanted to admit I was alive in the first place. You would have wrestled lions to avoid spending time with me. What changed? Nothing that you found in Phoenix should have changed your opinion. I would have not been your daughter then too. So, what happened?"

I bore my eyes into his while I waited for his answer, resolved to get it.

Charlie closed his eyes for a moment, and then looked at me with a defeated look on his face. "A nurse commented that I was probably your father considering our blood types. We had a paternity test performed."

"Without my consent? I hissed, my hands clinching into fists.

"Yes." he replied apologetically. "Bella, it confirmed that I am indeed your father. I..."

"Sperm donor!" I snapped. "That's all it fucking proved! What did that slip of paper change, really?" I asked rhetorically.

I saw a few people turn to look at us that were approaching the hospital. I thought I could see Old Quil watching our conversation from a window, but I wasn't sure.

I took a deep breath to qualm my fury.

"Why didn't you move to Phoenix? Why didn't you try to be there? Or tell someone who might have cared about me, about what was going on. You spent a week and then all of four weekends with me in the last two and a half years. That's hardly an attempt."

"It was so hard..."

"Nothing worth having is easy. And hard on you? What the fuck? You don't have any idea what I have had to endure in my life because of the people who were meant to look after me. Love me. All I had to deal with from you was emotional neglect. My time with Renee was so much worse. Not as bad as what some kids go through, but bad enough."

And then there is all the shit I can't blame on either of you.

"The only link I ever had to you is buried in the cemetery on Calawah Way, Gran. Papa and her were the only parents I ever had. And they are gone. I'm an orphan Charlie. I have been for over four years."

I sighed. The adrenaline had completely left my system. I was so tired. "I will try to be out of the house by the end of the month. I need to figure what I'm doing and what to do about Jax."

"But you..." he began to argue, struggling to keep his composure. He actually looked crushed. I'm sure he was going to argue about school, but we both knew that was a joke.

I didn't come back for him, or school, or to get away from Renee. I came back for me.

"I can't stay here. I came here to say goodbye to Gran. Not to play make believe with you." I watched as tears ran down Charlie's cheeks, a sight I had never seen. Something bubbled up inside of me at the sight. Pity.

But as sorry as I felt for bringing him to tears, it was still too little, much too late.

"It was my mistake coming back, and I apologize for putting us both through this. For using you in the way I did. I gave you hope, and it was wrong for me to do that." My breath hitched as I continued, "I... I just wanted a little more time with her." You will not break down here. You will NOT! It was bad enough you let him see you cry after Gran died.

Charlie closed his eyes as he lowered his head and a few more tears rolled down his cheeks.

"Listen..." I stopped as I caught sight of the little boy from my dreams, hiding behind Charlie. I closed my eyes and shook my throbbing head, trying to clear my vision. But when I reopened them, he was still there.

I swallowed a nervous laugh before it could escape when he peeked from behind Charlie's legs and stuck his tongue out at me. Shocked into silence, I stared in bewilderment at the grinning child. He looked up at Charlie's broken face, and his smile fell. He gave me a saddened pout, instantly making me feel like crap. I felt like he was looking down on me, when he was only a little over two feet tall.

"But we had some decent times together," I conceded. "That movie day was actually really... nice." Charlie gave me a reluctant smile, and nodded his head. He knew that one day in fifteen years was hardly the foundation of a relationship.

And that, just like Renee, his time had run out.

"Isabella," he whispered, trying to choke back a sob. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. God knows I will never be able to make up the time I lost, the wrongs I have done. My stubborn, idiotic pride has cost me my daughter. But please... please don't leave before I can even try to make it up to you. Before I can get to know you."

I looked at Charlie for a few short moments, then down to the toddler now standing by his side. My heart ached at the look in both their eyes. But I couldn't forgive him when he still wouldn't tell me everything.

My voice, softened by remorse and regret, broke the silence as I addressed Charlie while my eyes held both dark-grey and hazel eyes. "I'm sorry."

I quickly turned to find Old Quil's car.

"Where are you going?"

"Home," I replied over my shoulder without slowing my pace.

To the closest thing I ever had to home.

~ B of L ~

Charlie followed me in his cruiser until he realized where I was going. Then, I saw him turn off the road and turn around. I'm sure he went to his house to lick his wounds, not wanting to hear anything else from me. I didn't pull any punches with him. But they were words that needed to be said, that should have been said over a decade ago. I just needed my proverbial lady-balls to drop first.

Once I was out of the city limits, tears began to fall. I drove along the 101 silently, sniffing every so often, when I felt my nose running slightly. Too upset to care about my usual OCD behavior, I lifted the back of my hand to my nose. But when I returned my hand to the steering wheel, it was covered in crimson blood.

Perfect!

I quickly pulled over to the side of the road and rolled down the window. The sight of blood made me nauseous, but not as bad as when I thought I could smell it. Perhaps my father was a blood hound; I thought and then shook my head at my lame humor. I dug some Kleenex out of my bag and stuffed my nose with tissue to temporarily block the bleeding. They usually stopped quickly, only lasting long enough to be a nuisance. I grabbed a few antibacterial wipes and cleaned the steering wheel and gear shift down so I would be able to look Old Quil in the eye again.

After I got back on the road I drove directly to Paul's place to get my truck. Old Quil had assured me that Quil V could hoof it to get it later.

I slowly walked to the trial head and looked down at the ravaged beach below, wondering how the hell either of us had survived. Driftwood, moved effortlessly as if they were mere twigs, was lying in disarray all over the beach. A few days time and the beach would look nothing had ever happened. The tide would gradually push the logs back to the tree line, and even now some logs were floating in the rising tide.

But I felt fundamentally different. Like the event was a catalyst to some huge change in my life.

And I hated change.

I pulled into Old Quil's driveway a little later and shut off the engine. I rested my head against the steering wheel and sighed. Today was definitely listed in my top-five worst days ever.

Jax greeted me once I got out. Old Quil had told me that the canine was outside his house when he left to get Hank. I petted his head as I walked toward the garage.

The garage door was open and reminded me that my board was still in the water at Second Beach, although I hadn't noticed it earlier. It would have to just stay there. I wasn't sure when, or if, I could go back down there.

I made my way inside the small building to a rubber tote overflowing with cooking magazines on the top. There were a few advantages of a good memory. For example, a remembered conversation between Molly and Gran about where Old Quil liked to hide his shine. Not that I needed to remember, I could almost see the fumes rising from the tub.

I let myself inside the house and found a couple gallon sized thermoses. I filled one with ice water and the other with just ice and a couple of Red Solo cups. Then, I made me a couple sandwiches and ate.

I looked to the empty chair beside me, missing my usual breakfast companion. Paul and I had gotten into a routine and now it was over. I missed the disgusting way he would inhale his food. I wondered what, or if, he missed anything about me.

Once I had cleaned after lunch, I went to the pantry. Looking through its contents, I dug out an old wicker basket I remembered Molly using on picnics. I made sure to grab a liter of cranberry juice that might take the sting out of the shine. Going to the linen closet, I grabbed a blanket and two pillows. I dragged it all back to garage, and I found Quil's camping pack and sleeping bag. I filled them with everything I would need for a few days.

I went back inside and took a long, hot shower, considering it would probably be my last for several days.

While the soothing water relaxed my tense muscles, I thought about how I had to move on from all this. I couldn't let this shit hold me down any longer than it already had. I had to stop chasing demons and just cut off the monster's head. I'd forgive Charlie... in time. From several states away.

I wondered if Gran knew. I doubt that I could handle if the person I had trusted the most in my life had kept this from me. I couldn't stomach that kind of omission from her. She was always to the point about everything.

Except for Charlie. She never spoke about what was up his ass with regard to me. I figure she hadn't known and wouldn't speak to me if she was only operating on assumptions. And I couldn't fault her for that.

Then there was Nana. She had always chastised Renee about something; however, it was never when I was within earshot. She must have bitched so much that Renee had moved away from the Riverside area, with me in tow, to escape her nagging.

They were very alike in many ways - petite frame, complexion, free-spirit, and a horrible taste in men. But time had tempered Marie Higgonbotham's wild side and her red locks.

I climbed out of the shower and changed into some clothes from my bag. I had washed my spring suit and bikini over lunch; so, I hung them on a hanger to take with me. I went into Quil's room and grabbed a couple of shirts to sleep in and then went to Joy's room to find few pairs shorts and tanks. I would just have to wash my panties in the stream; no way I could 'borrow' those.

I called into work, and Mr. Newton was fine with me taking a couple of days off. I would stay away from everything. I'd call Old Quil if I didn't hear from him by morning to check on Makala. I would go visit her when she woke up. I only planned to be gone a few days unless Hank needed me, but I had provisions for near a week.

I drove the truck as close as I could to the campsite, and parked my truck in some overgrowth to hide it from passersby. Regretting the fact I was my own pack mule, I had to make two trips to get everything.

I walked to the edge of the cliffs overlooking Third Beach, the ocean breeze blowing into my face. It was just as beautiful as I remembered. It was a protected inlet, so I wasn't surprised when it didn't seem to have any damage from the wave that struck Second Beach. It was more of a swimming and sun-bathing beach. I had overheard at the hospital that a large wave did crash into the cliffs at First Beach, but thankfully nobody was hurt.

Jake, Quil, Embry and I used to camp in this place as children with Papa and Old Quil. When we got old enough that they had trusted us not fall off the edge, we had camped by ourselves. We had cliff dived, snorkeled, and explored underwater caves until hunger called us back to camp. Then we would joke around roasting marshmallows and telling tall tales until we collapsed into our tents.

Smiling at the memories, I readied the tent and setup the campfire but didn't bother starting it. Once the sleeping bag was laid down with the blanket over it were all settled in the tent, I changed into sleep attire even though it was four in the afternoon.

I was spent.

Hollering for Jax to come inside the tent, I swallowed three Motrin and laid down for a nap.

I was fast asleep before my head completely settled on the pillow.

I came out of the forest at what I recognized immediately as the cliffs overlooking Third Beach. Looking ahead, my eyes caught a familiar figure sitting close to the edge. The little boy sat contently as he looked out at sea, and I couldn't help but be concerned about his safety. I hesitantly approached him, half expecting him to bolt like every other time. However, he turned and gave me an infectious smile and beckoned me to him.

I sat down, several feet behind him. He looked at me and then scooted back to a safe distance from the cliff's edge beside me.

He gave a little wave to the sea, and when I looked up, I smiled. A pod of whales were sunning in the rare sun. One came flying out of the water, making me jump slightly, and twirled like a falling leaf. With the same agility it possessed in the water, it fell gracefully back to the ocean below. A huge splash of water billowed to the sky as it disappeared beneath the surface again, and I could almost fell the cool spray from where I sat.

We sat in comfortable silence before I decided to try to learn a little bit about him.

"Do you have a name?"

He gave me a wry grin, in what I perceived as a challenge for me to guess.

"Is it Buddy?" I asked my first guess, although I had a suspicion that was not his name. The boy in the picture, that was clearly Makala's elusive brother Buddy, looked similar but different than the boy sitting next to me. This boy's complexion was considerably lighter than Hank Wilde' s grandson was. The boy looking at the sea had a skin tone that was a beautiful, deep tan.

He shook his head no, while continuing to watch the whales frolic. I pondered for a while, going over names that I had always liked and settling on one that was a favorite of mine and a little ironic.

"Can I call you Chase? I've always liked that name. A handsome name for a handsome boy."

He turned to me and rose to his feet. Before I could react, he was in my arms giving me the two-year-old equivalent of a bear hug.

"I'll take that as a yes," I chuckled as I wrapped my arms around him. Warmth surrounded my heart at his display of affection, and I realized just how much I truly had needed it. The comfort that his hug evoked, the serenity I drew from the scent of his hair.

Makala had stirred something in me, a fierce sense of protectiveness I had never felt before. But this was... more.

I couldn't quite place it, but it felt almost maternal. Like he was an extension of myself. That he was just as alone and scared as me, with nobody to turn to, and it was my job to watch over him.

Although, it did seem like he was watching over me a lot of the time.

I kissed his forehead while I squeezed him a little. "Do you know my name?" I asked.

He pulled away from my embrace slightly and gave me a cute little smirk as he nodded in reply. His lips pressed together as he began to speak...

I woke suddenly, my arms wrapped around a pillow, to the sound of Jax growling loudly beside me. His ears were pricked and he was staring at something unknown outside the tent. I couldn't tell what time it was, but knew it was dark. Only the light of the full moon trickled into the tent.

Dread crept up my spine.

This could not be good. What if its a bear? The only bear claw I wanted contact with was of the pastry variety. I didn't want to end up as ones next meal like that Grizzly Man guy had.

What a wonderful end to a fuck-tastic day that would be!

The dog suddenly bolted outside, a snarl ripping from his throat. "Jax! Jax wait!" I whisper-yelled after him.

Shit! I eased my way to the other end of the small tent, peeking between the folds of the opening.

My breath hitched at the sight before me.

~B of L~

Milan, Italy (give or take several hours):

Jasper Whitlock sighed in frustration.

As much as he loved his wife, this was proving more than his patience could bear. He was waiting for her in a posh, Milan boutique while he tried to ignore the wanton looks of both the staff and patrons. But it wasn't just the looks; those could be averted by merely closing his eyes. No, it was the whispered words that the apparently sex crazed women spoke.

And then there was the lust.

Of all the times Jasper had regretted his gift of empathy, now was at the top of that list. He was fucking drowning in a near toxic level of lust. His painful erection was threatening to break free of his tailored slacks. He had had to cross his legs an hour ago in an attempt to conceal it. He hoped his brother Emmett didn't get wind of it or he would never let him live it down.

Jasper was being punished. He could feel the vampire pixie's mirth from the dressing room.

"Posso trovare qualcosa per voi?" a soft voice purred at him. Jasper rolled his eyes behind his closed lids, while he near groaned as the smell of desire of one of the saleswomen assaulted him.

That little pixie is going to pay for this, he thought to himself.

"No, grazie," he replied kindly after fixing his gaze on the voluptuous woman staring at him lasciviously.

"Se vuoi qualcosa non esitare a chiedere a me," the woman said, the comment dripping of innuendo. As she walked away, her hips swayed suggestively in what she hoped was a seductive way.

"You owe me woman!" Jasper growled in a low tone to his amused wife.

"Oh, Jazz. We're almost done for the day. Cheer up!" She laughed quietly.

For the day, Jasper groaned. They had been in Milan for five days. He was beginning to wonder if their private jet was going to be able to lift off the ground because of the weight of her exertions.

He had visited the cathedral Duomo di Milano twice while his wife, Alice, shopped up and down the Via Spriga and Montenapoleone of the Quadrilatero della Moda. If there was anything to visit in Milan beyond those places and the Quadrilatero d'Oro, he wouldn't know. He was positive that Versace, Prada, Armani, and Gucci would all have to close their doors temporarily to restock their inventories because of the decimated state his wife had left them in. She shopped for their entire coven, as she had ever since they joined the Cullens in 1950.

Carlisle Cullen was an English vampire that had come to the Americas to find absolution. He moved from to town to town as he practiced medicine, an attempt of penance for his race's atrocities. Working as a physician was unheard of for a vampire, but it was made possible by his practiced control. Loneliness and the wishes of a dying mother had prevailed him to change seventeen year old Edward Masen in 1918. A few years later Carlisle changed his mate, Esme Platt. In 1933, Carlisle had changed Rosalie Hale after she was assaulted and left for dead and then her mate, Emmett McCarty, a few years later. After Jasper and Alice had found them, their coven was the largest in the world.

The Cullens moved every five or six years, depending on the situation and next hospital for Carlisle to offer his services. Esme was a soft spoken, gentle woman and the perfect, although borderline Stepford wife, taking care of the house and their five adoptive 'children'. The doctor and wife were basically good people with good intentions. However, for all their good deeds, Jasper was convinced they were out of their fucking minds. Carlisle was often ignorant of basic vampire behavior or protocol, which was mind-boggling considering that he had lived for several decades with the Volturi, the vampire world's ruling coven. Carlisle and Esme were compassionate and indulgent to a fault. Neither of them were gifted, and they relied on the gifts of other members of the coven, except Jasper, and rarely acted like the coven leaders they claimed to be.

Jasper's brother and oldest friend, Peter, was convinced that Carlisle's delusions were the product of all his centuries of drinking Bambi's blood and abstaining from his natural food source. The entire family practiced Carlisle's teachings and they all had their... moments, even Jasper's beloved Alice could be eccentric. Jasper was the exception to the rule as he could not stomach his natural prey's emotions. Although it was the correct path for himself, Jasper tended to agree with Peter.

However, sometimes, while away from the Cullens, a midnight trip to a blood bank was a well-deserved treat Jasper looked forward to every year.

Peter and Charlotte preyed on the dregs of society and therefore provided a valuable community service. Jasper had tried the lifestyle as well after his brother and sister had saved him from his sadistic sire's clutches but the knowledge that someone deserved their fate did little to temper the intensity of their fear. Jasper had been resolved to starve to death when Alice found him and showed him an alternative.

But Carlisle's biggest weakness was his eldest son.

Edward.

Carlisle and Esme spoiled and coddled him, just as his human parents had done. And they relied far too much on Edward's gift of telepathy. Edward felt that he had the advantage over everyone. Jasper had yet to meet anyone more condescending and self-absorbed than that ginger-haired fucker. The moron thought that because he could read people's thoughts that he knew EVERYTHING. However, he was too egotistical to realize that he could only read the superficial thoughts of everyone. Not the deeper, meaningful, meat and potato thoughts that people had in the back of their minds. He could easily be misled, as Jasper had proved countless times.

And there was always more drama with him than Jasper cared to deal with. He believed that Edward was changed far too young, even though his age was several years over what vampire law stipulated.

Edward was, simply put, the bane of Jasper's existence. But Alice loved Edward.

And Jasper loved Alice.

Jasper's favorites were definitely Emmett and Rosalie. Rosalie was bitter about her lost human life for which he sympathized. But she had found some comfort when she came across her Emmett in the Smokey Mountains, being attacked by a bear. Jasper respected her because she spoke her mind and wasn't afraid to point out the family's issues. Her tenacity was complimented well with her husband's lovability. Emmett was the strongest vampire Jasper had ever encountered, but Emmett couldn't compete with Jasper's one hundred forty-three years of experience. They got along famously, and were usually found together either rough housing or playing video games if they were not with their wives.

The 'children' completed the Rockwell-esque Cullen picture by attending high school, much to Jasper's exasperation. Although the prolonged, daily exposure to humans was uncomfortable at best, it was the the lust of several hundred pubescent adolescents that could bring even the hardest warrior to his knees. But being the oldest looking, Jasper often was granted a reprieve by only having to suffer a senior year of high school or even sometimes moving to a new town as the Cullens' only collegiate son. The others had to endure varying sentences depending on the ages they could realistically portray.

The group cohabited well together but everyone valued their privacy, especially with Edward's gift. They used their school breaks for much needed space.

Alice and he were currently on a European vacation. They had spent quite a bit of time in the UK as he had never been to that island before. The amount of history and culture in London alone was staggering, and Jasper found himself in heaven. The London Museum was probably the highlight of his entire trip. He had spent three days inside it alone.

An impromptu tour around the city on the top of a open-top, double decker bus would come in a close second. In true London tradition, it had rained on them, and even the complimentary plastic bags they wore could not keep them dry. He had snapped a picture of Alice, who had looked like a drowned poodle. Her usually black, spiky locks of hair plastered to her face, dripping of water. He had sent the picture to Emmett, and even Peter and Charlotte. Of course now, he was regretting that... as Alice had been less than thrilled. And she could be an evil little vampire.

Jasper readjusted himself discreetly in his discomfort.

A fucking evil pixie, indeed.

The rest of their trip had depended on the weather. Alice's gift to see the future was usually contingent on people's decisions. However, she was completely omniscient when it came to the weather. It was an extremely advantageous gift, as a vampire's skin glittered in the sunshine like a diamond. They could travel across the continent at their own leisure under the cover of clouds, without fear of exposure.

After a while Alice appeared before him, her hands laden with sacks. But in spite of her spoils, concern was the most prevalent of her emotions.

"What is wrong?" Jasper asked.

She smiled at him, but her troubled eyes belied her attempt to disguise her mood. "I'm afraid that we are needed at home," she sighed in reply.

"Should we call Edward and tell him to meet us there?" Edward had been visiting with the Denali's when they had first left their home of Forks, Washington. But Jasper was sure he had long since left, not able to handle the advances of the Denali coven's three succubae sisters. Fucking Victorian virgin!

So Edward was now doing... whatever it was Edward did. The squirrelly fucker was off pouting about his lack of mate once again, no doubt. Emmett was convinced the moron was gay and either was too ashamed to admit it, because of his Victorian ideals or that he was too dense to realize it.

"No, I think that will only compound the problem," Alice replied cryptically, pulling her husband from his thoughts. "Can you please get the car while I go next door and get a new bag for Rosalie? I've already called the pilot, and he said it will be two hours before we can leave."

Jasper quickly rose to his feet, worry for his wife effectively had relieved his previous issue. He would do anything for her; she had saved him from an eternity of despair and loneliness. So he would follow her lead, until he couldn't anymore in good conscience. Then she would submit to his wishes, to his protection.

He walked along the busy street, bordered on both sides with Ferraris and Porches, in an agitated state as he approached their car.

Because what worried Alice, damn near scared him. She was usually buoyant, with a smile and answer for every situation. He didn't need Peter's gift of intuition to feel wary. Even with the joy of shopping in Milan, Alice had been confused and nervous for the past couple of days.

And Alice Brandon Whitlock was never confused or nervous.

Ever.

Jasper had a feeling that a hornet's nest had been kicked, and they were going home to walk right into a swarm of trouble.

A/N Hope ya'll liked. Thanks for reading! This chapter was a difficult one to write. So this should put to rest about Bella's paternity, even if she may be a little skeptical. She is 100% human in this fic. However, a lot of the characters are not clued into that fact yet!

And I do realize that my song pairings are odd, but they just jump out to me.

Translations:

Can i get something for you?

No, Thank you.

If there is anything you want, don't hesitate to ask me.