Because You Loved Me
9/?
Sometimes Letting Go Is The Hardest Part...
The sixth of September 1964 was the night that Jasper Whitlock Hale's life would forever be changed.
Fourteen years they've been with the Cullens. Sixteen years they've been together. This night would be the one that tested all of that. This night would be the one that proved how strong their bond really was. And Alice, apart from a very vague vision a few years ago, had seen none of it.
Until this morning. She'd been sitting there, insisting to Edward that Rosalie would win the chess match, and then she was on her knees on the floor, gripping at the air in front of her blindly, her chest heaving and tearless sobs escaping her. The vision had hit her so quickly, so hard, that noone had time to react.
It had exhausted her to the point where she could only lie there in Jasper's arms, her eyes closed and repeating the same single word over and over again, as though it were the only word in the English language that she knew.
Maria.
They'd promised to let him handle this on his own; hearing it from him may keep her calm, they said. And who was supposed to keep him calm? His hands are trembling as he makes his way through the forest just outside of town, and his jaw is set tightly. Would he even recognise her?
Yes, he knew he would. Even now, admist the smell of fresh rain and wet leaves, he can pick up that very faint scent of cinnamon. Nothing else in the world smelled like that.
Alice had wanted to come with him, in case Maria wasn't willing to be peaceful. He'd told her that if she came, it'd probably make the situation worse. It was the truth.
A breeze passes through the tops of the trees and spirals down towards him, and on it is a whisper of his name. He freezes where he stands, his eyes wide and his hands clenched into fists at his sides.
"...Is that you?"
Her voice sends a chill up his arms, over his shoulders and along the back of his neck. His mouth goes very dry, and his tongue feels heavy. He forces himself to turn around and the sight before him sends a wave of pain through his system. He remembers her a young spunky girl, her eyes bright though they were full of malice, and a smile that could knock any man off his feet.
He remembers her alive. Not like this.
She's wearing a long, simple blue dress with a dirty white shawl pulled over her shoulders. The boots on her feet confirm that it was her prints he had seen so long ago, and she looks so pale and fragile that if the wind blew just the right way, she might break in half. She's hunched forward slightly, her eyes wide and uncertain.
As though she were afraid of something.
Afraid of him.
Jasper wants to say her name, to call out to her as he had done almost half a century ago, but his voice has left him. She stares up at him for a long moment, before doing something he did not expect.
Before doing something very... human. She covers her face with her hands, and drops to the ground. She sits there with her legs curled to her chest as her body sways back and forth, as she rocks herself in attempt at some kind of self comfort.
"Maria."
He crosses the space between them, and she gasps as he wraps his hands around her arms and drags her to her feet. He won't look at her like this. "It's true," she whispers when she locks eyes with him. "I heard from others, but..."
"What's true?"
"Your eyes," she says, reaching up carefully and brushing his hair off his forehead. "They're so beautiful... and you, mi belleza..." He pulls his head back, only slightly, but she catches it. Frowning, she pries herself from his arms and returns to the comfort of her shawl.
"Why are you here?"
"I looked for you. The night you left, Jasper, I... I fell apart. I killed everyone who was still with me."
He stares down at her, his mind racing through the memories of the ones who had remained to the very end. "Everyone...?"
"And then I started on the humans. Fifty died that night, at my hand, in less than half an hour. I didn't know myself anymore. I was afraid, Jasper, and it only got worse. I know what I must look like; not like the girl who led an army so many years ago. Now I fear my own shadow and... I long only to hear your voice. Speak to me, please."
He doesn't, because he doesn't know what to say.
"Do you remember a few nights before you left? Do you remember how we danced?"
Yes, he thinks. It had been the most peaceful night he'd experienced since his change. It had been only him and her, and the open night sky. The thought of leaving her had been so very, very far from even entering his mind then.
"Why won't you speak to me…?"
"What am I meant to say, Maria?"
"…I heard from others," she said, repeating her earlier statement. "Others who had seen you, seen the way you were living. I thought… I tried… but I couldn't, Jasper."
"You thought what?"
"I thought if I could live your way, we could…"
There's a sinking feeling in his stomach. Not regret; sympathy. "Maria, changing the way you live wouldn't have mattered. We'll never be the way we were."
She sniffles, and for a bizarre moment, he thinks that her pout reminds him a little of Alice. "Then you've found someone else…"
"Yes."
"Her name?"
"Alice."
"And you love her…"
Silence. Jasper watches Maria carefully as she kneels and reaches her arm out with lightning speed, grabbing a small rat that happens to be passing by. It hurts him to watch her do this; the woman who once held most of the power in the south, the woman who vampires and humans alike feared…
The woman he waged war and won impossible battles with, reduced to snatching rodents.
She drops the animal when she sees him staring, and covers her face with her hands. "I don't know where to go…"
"You can't stay here, Maria," he whispers. "It's not safe for you, or for us."
Maria nods her head, and her hand moves to very briefly pull on her own hair. Then, she steps to him again and holds out her arms. "You never said goodbye."
One look at her face, and he knows she isn't being sneaky; she has no tricks up her sleeve this time. She simply wants him to hold her one last time.
He hesitates for a moment, and then he wraps his arms around her carefully.
Dance with me. Say goodbye.
For hours they dance, like the night he remembers so clearly in his mind. For hours, he gives her a silent apology. When the first rays of morning are beginning to seep through the trees, she steps away from him and curls her fingers over the silver dove that hangs from a chain around her neck.
"I'll go to Mexico," she says flatly. "It's still home." Jasper is silent as she presses the necklace into his palm, and then presses her lips to the back of his closed hand. "You're happy. Stay that way."
And then, as though she had never been there in the first place, she's gone.
For good.
* * *
"Jasper!"
He winces as he enters the house, and the faces of his family flood his vision. Anxiety and worry mix with relief as their emotions flood him, but he pushes through. There's one face that he doesn't see.
"Maria?"
"She's gone, Carlisle. Where is Alice?"
"On the balcony," Esme whispers.
He doesn't give anyone else time to say anything to him. When he reaches their room, he stands in the open doorway silently, his eyes glued on Alice's back. She's leaning over the railing of the balcony, her head bowed and her fingers linked together.
Jasper approaches her slowly. She doesn't turn her head when she speaks. "That smell… is that her?"
He can't make sense of the emotion radiating off of her; jealousy, unimportance… a very, very small feeling. "She's gone, Alice."
"What did she want?"
He doesn't answer her, because she already knows; she saw and heard Maria's wish in her vision. "I told her I had you."
"You almost went with her." Alice turns and looks at him with empty eyes. "I saw that path chosen, too, Jasper."
The fact that Alice knows the thought of running back to his old life had crossed his mind is enough to make him want to find a very deep hole to crawl into. "That life was an easy one, Alice. Much easier than this."
"And yet, you stayed."
"I stayed for you."
Alice turns away from him again, wrapping her own arms around her body. "You love her, still."
"I will always love Maria. There's no point in denying that, Alice, and you're not naïve enough to think that I could ever stop. She created me, she taught me."
"And what did I do? I manipulated you into coming with me, into living this life, because I said I saw the future, and –"
"You saved me, Alice. Had it not been for you, I'd probably be dead by now and there's no pointin denying that fact, either."
She looks up at him as he walks to her, and she tenses when he places his hands on either side of her face. "And what good am I now?"
"You're still saving me," he whispers.
"From what?" He thinks he detects a slight tremble in her voice, a weakness there that she's had ever since they met. A fear of being left, just like Maria.
He doesn't answer her, because this is one thing that he is still denying. Instead, he gets a firm grip on her and pulls her up off the ground. He kisses her like he never has before; it's not seductive or passionate, and nor is a ploy to simply make her feel better.
It's one that lasts for hours, one that answers the silent question that she really has going through her mind.
Jasper will not leave her; he's here to stay, no matter how difficult this life may be. He's here to stay because she is still saving him.
She's saving him from himself.