A/N: Weeee. I'm a bad host. I wrote a lot of this at Disneyland. Hehehe. Anyway. Enjoy. Much luffs to you all.

Jasper gritted his teeth, but a growl of pain and exertion came out anyway. Exhausted he laid back on the floor, finally letting himself go limp after doing his exercises. Closing his eyes, he just concentrated on breathing until the pain was bearable again.

"Well," Lucy said from her perch on the couch, "I know you didn't ask me, but I see definite improvement, big brother."

Feeling irritable. Jasper just grumbled, reaching up to wipe his brow of sweat. She was right - he was improving, but he was frustrated.

He was still feeling snippy about an hour later when Emmett came over. His friend gave him a look. "What's going on with you today?" he asked point blank.

Carefully, Jasper put his leg up on the couch, scowling at it. "The chief called me this morning. He wanted to talk about me brushing up on my training and coming back to work."

"That's good news, isn't it?"

Jasper grunted, concentrating on rubbing his leg. "It's going back to desk work. I'm useless out in the field... maybe forever."

Emmett was silent at first, processing this. "Well, as far as desk jobs go, you could do a lot worse," he said lightly. "Your leg is really that bad off?"

"If I work hard, I'll walk with a limp the rest of my life," he said tightly.

"Well, then you better work double time."

Jasper smiled wanly at his friend, feeling frustrated but ready to stop feeling sorry for himself. "Maybe it's a sign. I have a do-over after all. I could go back into police training, relearn everything I forgot... or I could do something else."

"You have a point." Emmett tapped his chin, staring off. "I'm happy with what I do, but sometimes, I think I could start over, do what I dreamed of doing when I was a teenager." He looked over at Jasper. "Do you remember what you wanted to be when you grew up?"

It took Jasper a minute to answer. "Peter and I were going to go into the army," he finally said, his voice far away as he wondered what might have been.

"I'm sorry, man."

Jasper shook his head. "No. There's what my life could have been and what it is now." He took a deep breath. "I'm done moping." He had to smile. "You know, Bella made me watch Finding Nemo the other day."

Emmett's lips twitched up. "Just keep swimming?"

"It's a good motto. Keep swimming or sink." He breathed deep again. "I'm not going to sink."

A wide grin spread over Emmett's face. He raised his water glass, clinking it against Jasper's on the table. "I'll drink to that."

~0~

Edward lingered outside the bedroom he used to share with Jasper, his hand raised to knock.

Behind the door, he could hear the music clearly.

These long weeks and months, what might have been worse than their broken relationship was how closed off Jasper was to him. Where they used to tell each other everything - sharing bad days and good days - his lover now suffered mostly on his own. It drove Edward slightly crazy not to know what Jasper was thinking, feeling.

The last few weeks had been better. They spent a lot of time together, getting to know one another, getting to be friends again. It was slightly frustrating and sad for Edward, but necessary. After all, Jasper had been right: he wasn't the same man he had been before he fell off that cliff, and he never would be again.

But this... the music coming from behind the door, was Jasper speaking clearly in a language they shared. Often, when words failed, they both had the habit of turning to music. There was something about the notes, the lyrics, that communicated what they were feeling.

Jasper had told him once that when she thought something was wrong, Alice would ask and ask what was going on until she got some kind of answer out of him. She didn't understand that often, he didn't know how to express what he wanted except through music. She didn't know how to listen to what he was saying when he played songs; music didn't mean the same thing to her as it did to him.

Edward understood.

The songs he'd been playing, flipping through CD's, had a theme. Confusion - understandable. Heartbreak - Peter no doubt.

A few songs were... cautiously hopeful.

Closing his eyes, Edward rested his forehead on the cool wood.

Cautiously hopeful.

After their last few interactions, he wanted so badly to be hopeful. The atmosphere around them was easier... and warmer. There'd been several heavy moments, innocent moments, when they'd been laughing together and the room had suddenly gone silent. Edward tried not to stare, but he thought... maybe Jasper was trying not to stare, too.

Cautiously hopeful, Edward knocked.

The music switched off, and Edward felt an ache. But when he entered, he was quickly distracted.

Jasper was sitting on their bed with a guitar in his hands. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "I just found this... is it yours? Do you play?"

"Um. I do play. But this guitar is yours."

Jasper's eyebrows shot up. "I don't know how to play the guitar."

Smiling, Edward sat gingerly on the edge of the bed. "You do. Very well, in fact." Edward had taught him.

He shivered a moment, remembering sitting with Jasper, the guitar in his hands and Edward's arms around him.

Getting distracted kissing him.

Edward came back to the moment as Jasper experimentally cradled the guitar, putting his fingers along the strings. He strummed.

As Edward watched, Jasper closed his eyes, strumming mindlessly, tunelessly for a moment.

And then he began to play.

Edward's breath caught when he recognized what Jasper was playing. The emotion he felt was overwhelming. At first, he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

After everything they'd been through, how much Edward had longed for a sign - any sign - that what they'd had was somewhere inside him, locked away but not gone.

This was... above and beyond what he'd dare to hope.

When Edward stood, Jasper stopped playing. "Don't," Edward said, going to sit at the keyboard in one corner of the room. "Please don't stop."

"I don't even know what I'm doing," Jasper muttered.

"Just don't stop."

Jasper closed his eyes again. He took a deep breath, uncertain for a second, but then he began to play again. His fingers only faltered a moment when Edward joined him on the keyboard.

The song was perfectly formed, exactly composed for Jasper's guitar and Edward's keyboard. For the first time since Edward had gotten that phone call saying there'd been an accident, he felt like he could take a deep breath. He played easily, knowing the notes by heart.

Just like Jasper obviously still did.

When the song drew to a close, Edward turned to face Jasper again.

His eyes were still closed, his fingers still caressing the strings. He gave a little chuff at first, an incredulous laugh, before he opened his eyes. "I didn't... I don't even recognize that song."

"It's mine," Edward said quietly, watching.

Jasper raised his head, his eyes wide. "What do you mean?"

"I composed it. For us."

"Wow." Jasper looked down again, idly plucking at the keys. "That's... That's impressive. I really liked it."

Edward's answering smile was gentle. "I'm glad." Inside, he was flying. He felt renewed - more than cautiously hopeful. "Play something else," he encouraged.

Jasper looked up, a bemused little smirk playing at his lips. "I don't know what I'm doing."

"I think what I just heard says different."

Experimentally, Jasper plucked at the strings and began to play again.

And again, Edward's breath caught, though for much different reasons this time. Jasper's eyes were closed again, his lips moving silently to the song.

Every complication, every difficult moment of the last couple of months faded away. Edward only saw a beautiful man, only heard the sweet strains of this soft song. There was that familiar tug at his heart because this man was playing for him, this moment was only theirs.

When Jasper brought the song to a close, the very air Edward breathed was heady. There was not a thought in his head. There was nothing but a very simple desire.

He leaned into the space between them, brushing his lips against Jasper's in the barest hint of a kiss.

Realizing what he was doing, he opened his eyes. His voice was caught in his throat, but even if he could have apologized, the look on Jasper's face would have stopped him. There was nervousness there, yes, but also want.

Edward tilted his head again, kissing Jasper softly - a chaste kiss but not lacking for emotion. He was charmed.

Releasing a shaky breath, Edward backed an inch away again. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "It's just that song... You used to play it for me." He cleared his throat and sat back again. "Jasper. You remembered how to play."

Jasper looked down at the guitar in his hands, the guitar he currently had in a death grip. He chuckled, a restless sound. "That's... um..." He shook his head, as if clearing it. "I mean, it's weird."

He tried to set the guitar aside, but Edward was quick to push it back at him. Standing, he rifled through a few sheets of music, pulling out one and laying it on the bed. "Here."

"What am I supposed to do with that? I can't read music."

"Just try," Edward urged.

With a little grumble, Jasper adjusted himself on the bed and moved the music so he could see it.

"Don't think about it."

Jasper glanced at him briefly and then back to the music. He struck a few chords and frowned. Readjusting the guitar, he tried again.

And a moment later, he pushed the guitar away with frustration. He slumped forward, his hands in his hair.

Edward sat next to him on the bed. Hesitantly, he brushed his fingertips over Jasper's head, testing new waters. When the other man didn't pull away, he let his fingers wind through his tresses - he finally had enough length to his hair that it was possible, and Edward had been dying to touch him just like this.

It was surprising how it was the little touches he missed the most.

His fingertips encountered the jagged, raised scar along his skull, and Edward's heart twisted. He swallowed, letting his fingers trail down to Jasper's neck and then his back. "Don't be upset. You know you can do it. I can teach you again."

Closing his eyes, Jasper blew out a long breath. When he opened them again, he seemed calmer. "That's got to be more fun than physical therapy anyway, right?" His lips tugged down, and he looked away. "It's a little weird. You don't expect as an adult there are many things you'd need to relearn, forgetting seven years." He rubbed his leg absently. "I have to learn how to walk right again. I don't know how to be a cop anymore. Apparently I knew how to read music at some point. Then there are the things that were around that have continued to get more complicated in my absence - phones, Facebook... Google does all kind of weird shit now."

The fact that Jasper hadn't pulled away from him yet wasn't lost on Edward. He moved his hand back up to Jasper's neck and began kneading slowly, working out the kinks along his shoulders. He didn't say anything. He knew Jasper didn't need to hear words. He was just venting.

"That feels really good," Jasper said with a more content sounding sigh. He tilted his head. Edward pushed aside the urge to kiss his exposed skin, concentrating on his task.

"Edward?"

"Yes?"

Jasper didn't speak right away. Despite how curious he was - though not without trepidation - Edward didn't press him, giving him room to compose his thoughts. It was still awkward for Jasper to ask about this relationship he didn't remember, especially when he was trying to find an identity he was comfortable with.

"The song you composed for us? Will you tell me why - what it's about?" His tone was self-conscious, and he stared anywhere but Edward as he asked.

But he still wasn't pulling away.

"Is that a stupid question?"

"Of course it's not. Every song has a meaning, a reason it exists." This was the music lover in Edward speaking by rote now, stalling because this part was hard on him, too - giving Jasper back these memories that were no longer shared.

Edward was, at his core, a romantic. Despite that, his grand gestures of romance were few and far between. Their anniversary was one of them.

Just a month before, Edward had opened his music store. Jasper often teased him that he'd decided to invest in a music store just to have an excuse to show off the gorgeous baby grand piano he owned. The thing stood off to the side, drawing every eye in the room. Edward tried to tell him the accoustics in the room were far too poor for the decision to have been made strictly on the basis of the piano.

But that night, he was definitely glad it was there.

Edward had packed them an intimate dinner made into a picnic which they ate in the privacy of the shop. When they were both full and pleasantly tipsy from the wine, Edward gave Jasper the guitar he'd had custom designed.

After Jasper expressed his profuse thanks and pleasure, but before he could play anything, Edward took his hand.

"I thought you might make its first song something special," he explained as he dragged a music stand over.

"What's this?" Jasper asked, running his fingers over the sheet music Edward had waiting.

Suddenly, shy - wondering if this was a monumentally bad idea - Edward pulled his lover down onto the piano bench so he was sitting with his back to the piano. "Just play." He sat down facing the piano.

Jasper plucked at the strings of his guitar experimentally, and then he began to play.

Edward was glad he was facing away. His smile, he felt sure, must have been ridiculous.

The song began with a guitar solo - meant to be played by Jasper. It was the strong center of the song - sure and confident but surprisingly peaceful. There was a tenderness to the music.

Hearing him play it gave Edward an immense satisfaction - a fervent joy.

He was so caught up, he almost missed his cue.

Edward's part of the composition - tailored specifically to be played on the piano or the keyboard in a pinch - was a perfect descant to Jasper's part. Each part was unique, beautiful and distinct on its own, but when played together, it was somehow more.

The song sounded so much better in reality than it had in his head.

"Wow," Jasper breathed into the silence that followed the last note.

Knowing exactly how he felt, Edward turned so he was facing away from the piano. He was smugly pleased with himself, with just how well the music played.

"It's perfect, darl," Jasper murmured, cupping Edward's cheek and tilting his head toward him. "We make beautiful music together."

Edward snorted. His complete and utter adoration of the man beside him kept him from being able to make his tone as derisive as he wanted to truly tease. "You're a cheesy bastard."

"Yeah, well..." Jasper had that look in his eyes that made Edward feel breathless and tangled up in knots. "What does that say about your taste?"

"Hmm," Edward hummed, his gaze moving to Jasper's lips. "Well, you tell me about my taste." He kissed him lightly at first, feeling the way Jasper's mouth turned upward.

"Now who's a cheesy bastard?" Jasper mumbled against his lips, between little kisses. He sighed. "I love you, Edward."

Edward shook his head, bringing himself back to the present. Jasper wanted to know why their song existed. That was an answer he would never have words for: Jasper was his muse, the reason he could compose something so complex and... perfectly them.

So Edward opted for the simple answer. "I... For your birthday that year, I wrote a song for you. A song I played, I mean. And you said, 'wouldn't it be something if our song was something you composed?'" Edward smiled to himself, looking down at his hands. "So I wrote us one."

There was a moment of silence. Edward looked up to find Jasper blinking at him, a little shocked. "You wrote me a song?" he asked.

Edward nodded slowly, a little bemused at Jasper's obvious awe.

Jasper opened his mouth, closed it, and then opened it again before he spoke. "Will you play it for me?"

Instantly, Edward felt defensive. For some reason, he was oddly possessive of that song. Irrationally, it almost felt as though he would be betraying his lover to play it for this new Jasper. The man in front of him was not his lover. Edward and this new Jasper were friends, occasionally something that bordered on a more that had no clear definition. The song was meant to be heard by his lover only, an intimate expression of the love they shared: all the words Edward could never find to explain how and why he loved Jasper poured into notes and chords.

But it was a gift given unconditionally. It belonged to Jasper in any form.

So Edward took the guitar. He faced Jasper, but he closed his eyes.

And he played.

It was bittersweet. On the one hand, as he played, Edward disappeared into each note he struck, the depth of his emotion for the other man resonating with each strum. It was sweet because he realized he was still in love with Jasper. Yes, he was changed, but the music, what he was communicating through sound, was still true. He was still head over heels for the man by his side.

And with that came the bitterness. It was so difficult to feel this and still have no indication of what Jasper was thinking, feeling.

He brought the song to its end, still not opening his eyes. For long moments, he just breathed, reeling, trying to swallow down his ache.

The only sound in the room was their breathing, and Jasper's was... shaky.

The bed creaked, and Edward felt the heat of Jasper's body close to his. He stayed still, not wanting to move. He knew what he wanted, but how could he hope-

Jasper's lips on his stopped his every thought.

Edward still couldn't bring himself to move, to believe this was happening, but Jasper's kiss lingered. After a moment, Edward couldn't help but respond.

Their kisses were soft, sweet... tentative, and with each one, Edward felt the grip around his heart loosen, felt a modicrum of the weight that had weighed his shoulders down these months lessen.

He opened his eyes to see Jasper staring. He seemed a little dazed but relatively calm. He swallowed hard and licked his lips. "Thank you," he murmured simply.

A/N: Thank you to jfka06, barburella, and jessypt!

Weeeelllll. Progress, yes?