Alice led me away, into the woods. I tried to focus on the smoothness of her hand and the sweetness of her scent, and not of anything else. I didn't think of what I was leaving behind. I did not think of where we were going, where she might be leading me. I shut down my mind, just focusing on Alice in front of me and putting my feet in front of each other.

As we got farther away from the house, it felt like I had been wearing layer upon layer of thick clothes, topped by a heavy winter coat. With each step I took, one more shirt was peeled off. I felt light, freer than I had in weeks.

As layers of pain were peeled away, it left me free to realize other pains - namely, the one in my throat. I found it exceedingly hard to believe that I hadn't hunted since the funeral, but the evidence was in my pitch black eyes, only supported by the dull burning in my throat.

Hunting with Alice had become my only solace the last time the family had been like this, though their depression hadn't been of this intensity, not even close. Why hadn't I taken advantage of this relief before now? Then maybe I could have stood up to Edward and this side trip would not have been necessary.

"Alice," I whispered, "Alice, do you think we could go hunting now? It's been so long…"

She turned to look at me, still pulling us along, so she was running backwards. She calculated my expression for a few seconds before nodding and pulling me along even faster.

We ran a long way, miles and miles from the house before Alice stopped and sniffed the air. I did the same, quickly catching the scent of some unfortunate animal and draining it quickly. Beside me, Alice did the same. Within minutes, the burn in my throat was minimal. Alice grabbed my hand again, pulling me toward some unknown destination only she knew.

So intent was I in shutting down my mind until it was safe to reopen it to the world, I did not realize where we were until Alice was wrenching open the door of the building she had brought us to.

"No," I mouthed, so softly I knew Alice could barely hear me even with our enhanced hearing. "Alice, no..."

She ignored me, just tightening her grip on my hand and pulling me through the threshold of Bella and Edward's cottage.

I had no idea what she was thinking. Why she could possibly think this was a good place to bring me to, when I was supposed to be getting away from all the pain.

I had had no hand in the refurbishing of the cottage myself - what did I know of interior decorating? - but it was as though I had, what with the glowing, detailed reports Alice gave me every night. It was charming and cozy, exactly the kind of place Bella would have fallen in love with.

Alice pulled me up the stairs and into the bedroom that would have been the happy couple's. Then she sat me on the bed and climbed onto my lap.

"Now," she said. "Just calm down. Take your time."

I did as she asked, opening my mind once again to my surroundings, letting it come out of the self-imposed shutdown I had forced it into. The pain crashed down upon me like a tidal wave, overwhelming me just as it had before. My hands clenched into fists, my breathing quickened. But it was different, subtly different than before. For one, thought it seemed overwhelming, it was not as bad, not nearly as bad as before. I could handle this pain. It would just take me a minute to force it into the recesses of my mind. It was just my grief and Alice's grief, nothing more. I had handled much worse than this.

Alice put her arms around me, hugging me to her, and pressed her lips against my throat. Just the feeling of her arms around me, of her lips against my skin, was more calming than any words she could speak.

I fought to get my emotions under control, and, slowly but surely, I did. When I was breathing at a normal pace and my fists had unclenched themselves and embraced Alice back, I spoke.

"Why, Alice? Why did you take me here? It's everything that could have happened but never will. There's nothing for me here, nothing for you here, nothing but bad memories and what could have been."

"First of all," she said, unfazed by my outburst. "I brought you here because it'll be a damn sight nicer than living on the forest floor for the next few days. Secondly-"

"Hold on a second," I interrupted her, "How long are we going to be here, exactly?"

"I don't know," Alice said calmly, "But I do know I'm not going to let you go rushing back into that house. You need a rest, Jasper. You can't live like that. We can stay as long as you need to, but I'm thinking at least three or four days. But secondly as I was saying, I don't want to wait five hundred or a thousand or however many years it will take us all to be ready to face the memories Edward and Bella left behind. I don't want to live in denial that they ever existed, never mentioning their name or even thinking about them! I want to live in grief, yes, in terrible grief, but acknowledging that they were here and that they existed. And to do that, we can't avoid everything they ever touched or everything that had to do with them."

There was so much about her answer that I didn't expect from her. First, that she expected me to remain here for three or four days. I was not a passive man. I could not imagine sitting here in this cottage, taking a rest as Alice called it, while imagining Edward back at the house, trapped inside the agony of his own head and waiting for the advice which I had promised to give him. I could not wait and do nothing while my brother was in such pain.

Alice's way of grieving for Bella and Edward was unexpected, but not unlike her. Of course she wouldn't be able to hide, flinching away from the memories. When had she ever been able to live that way? She always had to do something. She had gone to Forks rather than let Bella's so-called suicide unfold by itself. She had gone to Volterra rather than writing Edward's mistake off as a lost cause, tragic but unchangeable. I knew this tendency of hers was partly to do with the visions she saw; she understood, more than most of us, that there was always a chance to do anything, change anything, even if it seemed impossible, because the future was never set in stone.

And a third thing. She referred to Bella and Edward together. As though they were both dead - or both would die. How could she know Edward's fate? She wouldn't speak of Edward's impending death that way unless it was absolutely final, I was sure of it. She wouldn't give up hope.

"Alice, what have you seen?" I asked her sharply. "Why do you talk about Edward as though all hope is gone? Will he truly die?"

She looked at me sadly for a moment, then shook her head. "No, I can't see anything - yet. But I don't know how he could survive. He won't listen to any reason. Even his own child isn't enough to keep him to this earth. The love of a parent to his child is supposed to be one of the strongest bonds there is, Jasper. If that's not enough to stop Edward from committing suicide, nothing will. I don't see the point of trying to deny it anymore."

I sat, stunned. I had no idea that Alice could be so…so serious. She was always flighty, spur-of-the-moment. She was never one to give up hope. Never. If there was hope to be had - and even if there wasn't - she would not give up her hope.

I wondered if she had seen a vision, one she just wasn't telling me about. she. If she truly had seen Edward's death. Because it was so unlike her to say something was absolutely, for sure going to happen when she hadn't seen it.

However, even if she was hiding from me - which seemed doubtful, because I felt nothing but depressed, hopeless misery emanating from her - nothing I could say would change her mind. She so rarely lied or even kept the truth from me that I knew there was a good, solid reason she would do it now. And I trusted that.

We sat in silence while the sun set. The night turned inky black outside the window, but neither of us moved. I didn't know what Alice was thinking. She was trying to lessen the intensity of her despondency, replace it with calmness. To make it easier for me. To make this "rest" the most relaxing it could be.

I was touched, and helped her. Her emotions were not so strong that I couldn't touch them, like Edward's.. I dissolved her depression in just a few seconds.

She smiled up at me. "Thanks, Jazz," she said, and pressed a soft, chaste kiss against my lips.

***

Time went on. We stayed in the same position - me sitting on the edge of the bed, Alice cradled in my lap - for the rest of that night and most of the way through the next morning.

I had to admit, Alice was right that a break was truly what I needed. It was relieving, not having the gloom follow me around like a constant, heavy raincloud.

I knew that I could not stay here as long as Alice said I had to. I had thought about what Edward had said to me with a clear mind - and it had been incomparably easier than trying to think with Edward in that close of a proximity to me - and I had come to a decision. I knew what I was going to tell him. And I was ready to go back. I just had to convince Alice to let me. I knew she wouldn't give up easily. She had sounded dead serious before when I had asked her. But I would convince her. I had to.

"Alice," I said. We hadn't spoken in hours. I would guess, from the way the sun was at its peak in the sky outside, that it was a little past noon. "Alice, I'm ready to go back now." She had said we could stay as long as I needed to.

She stiffened. "I don't care. We're staying at least another thirty-six hours. I'm not budging on this, Jasper. I won't let you be overwhelmed again."

"It's not fair to Edward."

"Edward can wait. If he can't control his emotions - which I don't blame him for," she added quickly, seeing me about to speak, "then he can't deny that you need to be ready to face him. He caught you off-guard last time. Off-guard, when you were already exhausted. It won't be like that this time."

"It won't. I'm ready, Alice. I know what I'm going to tell him."

She faltered for one half of a second. "What?" she asked, curious despite herself.

"I'm going to tell him to wait for Jacob. That however more agonizing it will be for him to wait for Jacob to be ready, it'll be worse if he goes to the Volturi. He'll hate himself for it."

"He already does," Alice said sadly.

"He'll hate himself more. Even he admitted it's not worth it. What he wants should not cost six more lives. More, because if the Volturi do come for us, I doubt the wolves will make it out alive. And humans will be killed, too."

"But what will he do?" Alice asked desperately. "We can't run from the Volturi!"

"No, we can't," I agreed solemnly. "Edward can't go to them. He'll have to wait for Jacob to make a decision. If the decision is no, which it very well might be, we'll ask other members of the pack to do it...Leah might. And if they refuse…"

This was the final part of my plan. The hardest part. But I knew we had to keep the Volturi out of this. It was like using a flaming stick of dynamite to cook food upon. Sure, it would work for what you intended, but soon enough it would explode in catastrophic ways you couldn't predict. Using the Volturi was just too dangerous, for all of us.

"And if they refuse," I repeated, my voice unintentionally turning into a whisper, "then…then I will do it for him. But we cannot force the Volturi's hand."

Alice inhaled softly. Her eyes were horrorstruck. She knew I would almost rather die myself then intentionally kill a member of the family Alice had found for us that I couldn't live without anymore.

But - and I knew this was my military side coming out in me once again - it had to be done. And I would do it if I had to.

I could only pray to God that it would not come to that. That either Jacob would agree to Edward's plea, or the pack would.

"Jasper, you can't do that…" Alice said softly, putting her hand on my arm soothingly."

"Yes, I can. And I will, if I must," I said shortly. I was not compromising on this.

She was silent for a long time. So long of a time that the sky began to turn orange again. The silence was loud and awkward. I longed for her approval, though I knew she would not give it.

Finally, as the last remnants of the sun dipped beyond the horizon and the sky was a spectacular orangey-purple, she said, "Jasper…"

I waited patiently.

"Jasper, I think that Edward has the best brother in the world, that you would offer to do that for him. It would tear you apart. But I can't agree to anything that would cause you that much pain…and yet I don't see another way. It's just…it's hard for me to let you do that to yourself.

"But, if it comes down to that, if you end up killing Edward, I'll support your decision. I won't agree with it, of course I won't, but I'll be there for you."

I knew that was the best I could ask from her, and truly, it was more than I expected. A great surgingwave of love for this woman in front of me coursed through me, and I hugged her tight against my chest.

She sniffed once, trying to hold back a tearless sob, and I squeezed her tighter.

"Thank you, Alice. And I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

She didn't reply, pressing her face against my chest.

And that was how we spent the second night.

The third day was long. I argued with Alice, trying to convince her to go back early. She refused. I lay back against the bed, arms behind my head, trying to think of how I would tell Edward what I decided, and mostly just reveling in the sense of freedom I felt. Freedom that would be gone the next morning, when we went back.

The fourth day dawned. Alice looked resigned, as though she knew she had tested my patience to the limit.

"Please, Jasper? Just a day or two longer?" she practically begged when I got up from the bed.

I wondered if she didn't have some ulterior motive, one other than just that I needed a break from the big house.

I looked at her face carefully, sorted through the mess of emotions that were assaulting me. Love. There was always love when Alice looked at me, a fact I could never get over but had no time to dwell on today.

Pain. Grief. Those were expected too, thought not nearly as strong as when we first came. I wondered if she was right and being in this cottage really was helping her to heal, or if just being away from Edward, not having to look at his agonized face, had done it. Either way, I was glad for it. I hated seeing Alice so sad, though I knew there was nothing to do about it, that we were all feeling the same way.

Apprehension I also read in her emotions. For what? Just watching me as I went back into the depressed atmosphere of the house? For Edward's reaction of what I was to offer him in the way of advice? I was nervous about that, too. Obviously, he wouldn't like my decision - any part of it, especially the waiting. Maybe it would comfort him a little, knowing that he had a surefire way out if the wolves continued to be obstinate, but would it only increase his pain to know that it would hurt me to do what I had offered?

The last thing I could sense was a hint of lust, neither unmanageable nor surprising. After all, Alice and I hadn't been together since before Bella's death. Since Bella and Edward had come home from their honeymoon, actually. During the course of Bella's pregnancy, I had worked through the night tracking down legends, and what time I hadn't spent doing that I had spent comforting Alice from her headaches or visiting Bella. After her death, it had seemed vastly inappropriate when Edward was so depressed.

I could feel nothing else from Alice. If there was something else she wanted from me, she was going to have to tell me herself. I wasn't waiting anymore. I had promised Edward.

"No, Alice, I'm going back now," I said firmly to her, and took her hand and led her out the door, out of the house. She sighed audibly behind me, and let go of my hand and put her arm around my waist instead.

And so we walked back to the house together. It was a fast walk by human standards, but even so it took us a while to get there. Neither of us were looking forward toward what was coming.

As we got closer, it felt like I was putting the layers and layers of clothing back on. I focused hard on keeping myself under control. It felt even worse after the three blessed days of freedom.

Edward was standing on the porch when we got there, face impassive. I thought of other things, not of what I was going to tell him.

"I'm sorry we've been so long, Edward," I said apologetically. Alice snorted very softly at my side.

He nodded. "It was completely understandable, Jasper. I'm sorry for coming up on you out of the blue like I did. That was inexcusable. Your reaction was entirely to be expected."

We were quiet for just a tenth of a second before Alice said, "I'm going inside." This, too, surprised me. I would have thought she would insist to stay out with me while I talked to Edward.

I couldn't decide which I would have preferred.

Alice squeezed my waist and ducked inside.

I took a deep breath, squared my shoulders, and turned to face Edward.

Much thanks to TheSingingGirl. My apologies for the cliffhanger.