Alright, we're shifting gears again here. It's time for some more Jasper lovin'. I'm a history freak, and I'm especially interested in the Civil War, which is one of the reasons I love the dear Major so much. I wanted to know more about his past, so I made one up for him! Please review & tell me what you think!

Chapter 17: Jasper Remembers

Jasper Whitlock Hale threw open the curtains and allowed the ever so seldom sunshine to stream in through the window. Standing before the full- length mirror in the room that he and Alice shared, he began to unbutton his trademark long sleeve shirt, letting it slide to the floor. He twisted his hands as the light reflected off of them, shattering it into a million crystals that danced upon his skin. Then, he forced himself to raise his head and look at the monster in the mirror who was staring back at him.

Everything about him was perfect. His golden hair that nearly reached his chin matched his bewitching golden eyes. His smooth skin glistened brilliantly in the sun. His chiseled body and firm jaw line were breath taking. In the years he had been with the Cullens, he had changed so much. He had become a better per... uh, being. He had a wife who made his existence worth enduring. His life had even began to be enjoyable. But he would never be able to forget his past. He would never forget, nor would he ever be able to fully forgive himself for all the pain he had caused. He could not forget what he had been, and he would never feel worthy of the love of his family. Because although he had changed so much mentally, physically, he was still the same creature that Maria had created. The moon shaped scars that ran up his arms also covered his torso, and they would never go away. His only imperfection. His only reminder of a life before the one he lived now.

Jasper reached up and gently ran his fingers over the one scar on his body that was different than all the rest. It was one left over from his human life, and it had been a deep enough wound to last throughout his transformation into a vampire. It was a jagged line just beneath his collar bone. It was visible even against his pale skin, a stark white that stood out amongst the scars that had a silvery tint to them because of the venom that had caused them. Every single scar on his body came with at least one story. He remembered exactly how he had received every last one. Except that one...

Resting his fingers on the mysterious scar, Jasper closed his eyes, searching his memory. He sifted through the clearer, more painful ones of his time with Maria, to find the hazy recollections of his human life. Various battles from the Civil War flashed before him, and he forced himself to watch the scenes that he had tried so hard to forget unfold.

He came across one that had occurred just after a particular battle. The battle that he most wanted to forget, but he knew it held the answers he was looking for. The more he thought about this memory, the more he became completely immersed within it. It felt as if he was living it all over again.

Jasper lay flat on his back under the vast Texas sky, listening to his heart beating slower and slower. The burning pain in his chest made breathing unbearable. He squinted against the harsh light of the sun directly over head. He tried to move, but every muscle ached and his body screamed in protest. For a minute, he thought he might be mistaken. Perhaps this was not the memory that revealed the story behind the mysterious scar. What if he was unnecessarily torturing himself by conjuring up the memory of his transformation? But a quick glance at the scenery surrounding him put his mind relatively at ease. His transformation into a vampire had taken place on a beach down near Galveston, Texas. He now lay on what was left of a battlefield. Cannon smoke lingered in the air and bodies of brave soldiers lay on the ground along side him. The body of one brave soldier in particular... he shuddered unable to think of it any more. Jasper's heart broke as he stared at the sight they refused to describe in history books. This was the sight that haunted him still, even in his life as a vampire. He closed his eyes, too exhausted to care anymore, too tired to fight. There was nothing left for him to live for. A thick blanket of darkness covered him, and he welcomed it as a release from the pain.

He didn't know how much time had passed, when Jasper heard a voice call out to him, "Major Whitlock?" He was reluctantly pulled from his state of unconsciousness, when the voice said again, "Major Whitlock? Can you hear me sir?"

Jasper wanted to respond, but he could not find the strength to speak. His body would not respond. Not that he wanted to move. Just breathing was pure torture. A groan escaped his lips as his body was lifted by unseen hands and carried away.

Moments later a foul smell filled his nostrils, one of death, sickness, and vast amounts of human blood. For the first time in over a hundred years, the smell made Jasper's stomach churn. He guessed he was in the hospital tent as the hands gently placed him down on some sort of a pallet. "Over here, Doctor," someone shouted. "The Major's been wounded!"

Almost immediately, Jasper felt a cold hand rest on his forehead. Was he so out of it that he hadn't even heard the doctor approach? And was his temperature so high that the man's hand felt this cold? Jasper groaned again. What did it matter? He wanted to die. He did not deserve to live. The only thing he ever did was let people down. He had hurt everyone he'd ever loved. But the calm radiating from the doctor relaxed him, and he was grateful for his presence, whether he could save him or not.

"Just hold on, Major," the doctor said softly. At the sound of the man's voice, Jasper fought against the heavy darkness that surrounded him. It was so familiar, but he could not place it. It took nearly all his strength to open his eyes, but he had to see the doctor's face. "Don't worry," the familiar voice said again. "Everything's going to be just fine, Son."

When his heavy eye lids finally opened, Jasper looked up at the young, pale, blonde doctor with golden eyes, and recognized him as none other than his adoptive father, Carlisle Cullen.

With a gasp, Jasper's eyes snapped open as he fell against the adjacent wall in his and Alice's bedroom. Though he did not need to breathe, air rushed in and out of his lungs as he tried to make sense of his human memory. He had been wounded during the Civil War. Mortally wounded, which was why the jagged scar remained on his chest even now. And Carlisle had been the one to save him! Carlisle was the one who had snatched him from death's door and nursed him back to health. There was only one question in Jasper's mind: why?

He knew there was only one way to find out.

Just as soon as he had made the decision to go speak with his adoptive father, his pixie of a wife burst into the room and was kneeling by his side in an instant. "Jazz, what's wrong? Why are you going to speak with Carlisle?" she asked, her hands fluttering about uselessly as she tried to comfort him. He was hit with a powerful wave of her emotions that could have knocked him off his feet if he hadn't already been on the ground. Alice was moving quickly between concern and anxiety, occasionally resting on frustrating confusion.

"Calm down, Alice," he said, but she shook her head.

"Don't you use your powers on me, Jasper Hale," she scolded him mockingly. Then she place her hand against his cheek. "Why won't you tell me what's bothering you?"

"I expected you knew already," he said, a bitter edge to his voice, getting up off the ground and going to retrieve his shirt.

"All I know is that talking to Carlisle is only going to make you more upset than you already are," Alice said, standing up as well, and looking up at him with hurt in her eyes. Jasper felt her pain as if it were his own. She was so worried about him. "Let me in, Jazz," she said, placing her hand against his chest over his non- beating heart. "Let me help you."

Jasper pulled her hand away and kissed her palm, wanting to take all her sadness away, but he knew using his powers on her would just make things worse. "I'm afraid there's only one person who can help me, Darlin'. But I would let you in, if I could," he said, his voice breaking as he spoke. His own pain, coupled with his wife's heart ache, was almost too much to bear.

"Why can't you? I'm so confused, Jasper," she begged. She hated not knowing what was going on, and he hadn't truly talked with her since the accident with Olivia. "Please, tell me what's wrong."

Jasper shifted his gaze to the indentions he had made in the wall when he fell, unable to meet her troubled eyes. Telling her would just upset her more, and he knew he couldn't handle that. Didn't she understand? He had to be strong for her. He was the one who was supposed to comfort and protect her. It shouldn't have to be the other way around.

Then Alice surprised him by reaching up and placing her fingers against the jagged white scar beneath his shirt. "Is it about this?" she asked. "Do you think Carlisle knows where it came from?"

"I know he does," he whispered, somewhat fiercely as he moved away from her and began to button up his shirt. It was a useless effort though. His hands were shaking so badly, he couldn't manage it. Alice was instantly in front of him, making quick work of the buttons, before she looked back up at him. Now, not only concern radiated from her small body, but frustration as well. It quickly evaporated, however, as she stared into his tormented golden eyes, and it was replaced by compassion for her husband.

"I know you feel as though you have to hide your feelings from everyone else Jasper, but you don't have to be brave for me," she sighed, wrapping her arms around him protectively. A smile played at Jasper's lips at the thought of someone so small trying to protect him. Alice buried her head against his chest. He didn't need to use his powers for her to know how he was feeling. Her husband felt weak for letting her see even a glimpse of his agony. But showing that weakness only made him seem stronger in her eyes. "You were there for me when I found out about my terrifying past," she reminded him gently, "and now I'm here for you."

Jasper sighed, placing his hands against her back and resting his cheek against the top of her head. He did not deserve her. He was very well aware that she was much too good for him. The memories of the man he had been with Maria, which he had accidentally stumbled upon while searching for his human memories, were much too poignant of a reminder of just how lucky he was to be holding this angel in his arms. But as her feelings for him coursed through his body, he could not doubt that her love for him was equally as strong as his was for her. "Make me understand," she whispered, loud enough for only him to hear.

"Alice, darlin', I don't think..." he began, but she cut him off.

"How many times do I have to promise to love you for better or for worse before you finally believe me? No matter what happens, I will never ever leave you," she said, pulling away to look up at him. "It will be easier to bear if we carry this burden together, Jasper."

He closed his eyes. He knew she was right. Jasper knew better than anyone else what an absolute mess he had been since Olivia had wielded her power over him, and caused him to hurt those he loved most. Alice was the only one who could fix him, but was he ready to let her? Honestly, he didn't know. But having her so close was already healing him. He pulled her in closer to him for just a moment, breathing in her wonderful scent that was more intoxicating than any human's blood could ever be, and allowing her to make him whole. Strengthened by her love, he plunged into his tale, explaining the human memory he just had, leaving out one of the most scarring parts. But he told her about the rest of the battle, of the wound that nearly killed him, and of waking up only to look into the face of their adoptive father, Carlisle Cullen. "I have to know, Alice," he said solemnly. "I have to know why he didn't change me. Why he willingly changed Edward, Esme, Rose, and Emmett, but not me."

Alice nodded. She didn't blame him really. It was a valid question, and her husband had a right to know. She just wished she could ease the pain that she knew was coming. He was already suffering so much, and she didn't know if he was strong enough to handle this just now. "I'll come with you," she offered.

"Thank you, my dear, but I think I need to speak with him alone," he said. Then, remembering what she had just said about hiding his emotions, he added awkwardly, "But if things turn out the way you saw them..."

"I'll be here for you," she smiled, cupping her hand against his smooth cheek. "I love you, Jazz."

"You are my everything, Alice," he whispered, leaning down and kissing her, drowning himself in the love each of them was feeling at the moment, knowing that soon, all the emotions he felt would be full of anguish, and out of his control.