Disclaimer: S. Myer owns all, but what I wouldn't give for a Jasper of my very own-sigh.
A/N-A big thank you to everyone that has read and reviewed this story, we are over 700 reviews, closing in on 800. That just…amazes me. Seriously, thank you! I might just have to do something special if we hit 1k reviews…any suggestions?
Lately, I've been writing S&S first and adapting L&F to it, however this chapter is completely L&F original, and S&S was adapted to it, with exception of the last scene, which was written for them both last October.
My poor beta has been working her fingers to the bone, so this chapter is once again unbeta'd, so all mistakes, grammatical and otherwise, are my own.
As always, many thanks and lots of hugs to Dannie, this wouldn't be here without her.
"**~~**"
That They May Do
Location: Hell (Anguish)
"**~~**"
"Help, I have done it again
I have been here many times before
I hurt myself again today
And, the worst part is there's no-one else to blame." –Sia
"**~~**"
I had expected he would be surprised but hadn't planned on my arrival being met with quite so much annoyance.
Quickly, he tried to recover. "I mean, I knew you said you'd be back but I thought it would be a bit longer."
"Can I come in?" I shuffled back and forth on my feet a bit, my bottom lip still between my teeth. He tilted his head, suddenly taking in my appearance, the dirty clothes, greasy hair, unshaven face and eyes that were barely open. I kept my eyes downcast, ashamed of how I looked and the desperation that must have been palpable around me.
Immediately, he asked, "Are Edward and Bella okay?"
I nodded. "Yeah, they're fine….please…."
He stepped aside and I walked in. When I didn't immediately see his wife, I turned to Peter. "Where's Charlotte?"
He closed the door with a soft click. "She's with her parents, they take a trip together every year, some family bonding or some shit."
The words were barely out of his mouth when I fell to my knees, the sobs overtaking my body. Instantly, Peter was on the floor with me.
"Jesus, Jasper, what's going on? Are you okay?" he asked as his hands traveled all over my body looking for evidence that warranted the condition I was in. I didn't even have the voice to tell him the wounds were all on the inside. That I had I already looked on the surface for the gaping hole and had found nothing but paling skin covered in sweat and dirt. "Jasper…" he whispered as he gathered me into his arms and pulled me to him. Resting my cheek against his shoulder, I let my grief soak his shirt thoroughly as his hand ran up and down my back. We stayed like that for a few minutes before he broke the hold and began to stand up. "Come on, let's get you into bed."
Holding my hands, he helped me onto shaky legs, gripping my hips until I was steady enough to move on my own. I headed for the room I had stayed in with Bella, and he followed me. After sitting me on the edge of the bed, he pulled off my boots and socks. Wordlessly, he slid my shirt over my head. He pulled the covers back on the bed and pushed me down. Wiping my cheeks as I laid my head on the pillow, I remembered feeling his presence, and missing hers, and hearing him pull a chair up next to the bed. "Sleep. I'm here," was the last thing I heard before I finally, for the first time in days, let myself fully succumb to the hell of sleep.
The sunlight was harsh, sharp and piercing. Rolling over, I buried my face into the pillow and felt empty. Squinting my eyes, I confirmed she wasn't there and I panicked, wondering where she was. Then, I realized I was in the bed without her, for the first time since we had arrived in Texas, I had slept in a bed alone. The emptiness of the it brought on a new rush of misery that clenched me so quickly that it robbed me of my breath. Taking short slight gulps of air, I slowly unclamped the constraints around my chest. Being alone was something I was going to have to get used to and the sooner I faced it the better. Just as I rolled over to get up, the door opened and he entered.
"Fuck, did I wake you? Shit, I'm sorry," he apologized as he sat back in the chair. "I had to go to the bathroom. Sorry," he repeated, putting his feet up on the edge of the bed. I remained quiet, and just stared at him.
Every mile I had driven between Nebraska and Texas I had fought with guilt. Selfishly, I knew Peter could take care of me, let me stay with him, perhaps even mend a few of my broken pieces with friendship. I had never needed him more than I did then. When my life was falling apart, I was counting on him to put it back together for me. After offering me comfort, he would know what to do, he could guide me when I was blind. But in order for him to put the pieces back together, he had to know what happened and I wasn't sure I could say the words out loud yet.
"Jasper, please, talk to me." Adamantly, I shook my head, refusing to speak. "Whatever it is, it's going to be okay."
I sighed, praying he was right and broke the gaze he held.
"Please," he begged again. .
"I didn't go home," I admitted quietly. Furrowing his brows, his eyes dived into the depths of mine as he searched for the answer to his unasked question.
"Bella?"
"She's home. I drove her home and then left."
"Left?" he hinted for me to elaborate. "Tell me?"
It was too soon, too painful and I felt my cheeks dampen. "It just wasn't going to work between her and me. She needs to be with Edward. He's right for her and I'm…." I paused, working up the courage to say the words aloud for the first time, "wrong. She deserves better than me."
"And what did she say?"
"She doesn't know. I never told her. I dropped her off and when she went inside to see Edward, I …" a sob escaped me, "left."
"Oh, fuck, Jasper," he sighed. "Do they know where you are? What happened to you?" Regretfully, I shook my head. "Jesus…" he murmured. Gradually, I felt the tenseness in my body begin to fade as sleep once again overcame me.
When my eyes fluttered open again, it was still dark, and the chair beside me was empty. Physically I felt much better, my muscles had relaxed after so many hours in the same position. Mentally, emotionally, I felt utterly drained and broken. There was still a gaping hole in my chest and ached with every breath but for the moment, my eyes were dry and I felt better than I had in days.
I was beginning to think it was the best I was every going to feel. I opened the door and headed down the hallway.
"Yeah, he's here." Pause. "That's what I said. Yes, I told him he can stay as long as he wants. Peter spoke quietly into his cell phone. When he heard me, he looked up, smiled and held up a finger. "Hey, baby, he's up so I'm going to go. I know, I love you, too. Bye," he finished and closed his phone. "You okay?" he asked me as he put his phone down and walked over to me.
"Yeah. What time is it? I rubbed my eyes.
"Almost midnight. You've been sleeping since last night, straight through."
"Shit," I mumbled. "Sorry."
"Don't be. You obviously needed it. I just came out to call Charlotte. She was going to cut her trip short but I told her not to. Said you and I could use some male bonding time. Figure you didn't want a woman around right about now."
I went and flopped down on the couch, even though I had only been up for a few minutes, but body already felt exhausted.
"Wanna talk?" he asked sitting next to me, putting his feet up on the coffee table and yawning.
"How did you do it?"
He raised an eyebrow. "It's late and my mindreading skills are a bit defunct, so you're going to have to clarify what the hell you're referring to."
"Tell her you loved her."
"Aw, fuck it was easy. I mean, she already knew anyway. I wasn't exactly trying hide it," he raised a brow at me, "though I tried to be all manly and shit about it. We had been dating for, fuck, three months maybe, and we had gone out to the movies. When I was dropping her off, we had been, ah, making out and shit in the truck and it just slipped out when she went to leave." He paused, smiling fondly before continuing, "She had had her hand on the door and she just stopped moving and my heart froze because I was like shit man, did I just say that out loud. I got all panicky for a minute…then she turned and look at me and…damn, I just knew she felt the same way, even before she said it."
I sighed. If only….
He nudged my leg with his foot. "Wanna go back to bed?" I nodded.
When he followed me into the bedroom, I turned to him. "You don't need to babysit me every night. I'm fine."
"Shut the fuck up, I'm coming with you," he insisted, closing the door, he took his position in the chair. Climbing into bed, I got under the sheets and rolled on to my side away from him, hoping he couldn't see the tears fall.
"Hey, cowboy," she slurred as her hand ran up and down my thigh. There was an empty glass sitting on the bar top in front of me as she dragged her nails up my arm. When I turned and saw her blond hair, low cut tee shirt and pouty lips, I glanced around the bar to see how alone we were. Without a second thought, I dragged her to the ladies room where I closed the door and locked it. Her red lips curled up around bright white teeth.
"What do you want, cowboy?"
Roughly, I pushed her to knees. "Suck me," I demanded.
She eagerly waited while I unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans. She took over and pulled them down over my erection, watching as it bobbed in front of her face. Instantly, I shoved myself inside her mouth. Surprised, her wet lips went around the head, licking and sucking.
"Yeah, fucking whore, suck me hard," I moaned as her skilled mouth moved up and down my length. My hips began to move, forcing myself deeper into her mouth, striking the back of her throat even thought she began to gag.
Suddenly, cool air brushed over my cock as I pulled out. "Stand," I demanded. When she stood, I ripped her shirt into pieces, exposing her naked breasts to me. Pushing her back toward the counter, I grabbed her hips and lifted her up on it. Tugging her jean skirt up, I reached under it and tore her panties from her body, letting them fall to the floor. Spreading her legs, she invited me in. I roughly grabbed her knees and pulled her legs apart even more, guiding my cock into her.
"Want me to fuck you?" I asked as I pushed deep into her. Biting her lip, she watched me as I began thrusting in and out of her at a quick, pounding pace. My cock throbbed with the need for release. Gripping her thighs, I slammed into her, repeatedly banging her head on the mirror behind her. When she moaned, I got angry.
"Shut the fuck up," I grunted. As her breasts bounced in front of me, her high heels gouged my ass as she pushed me deeper into her. I growled, grabbing one of her breasts and roughly pulled it to my mouth, my teeth bearing down on the plump flesh, biting her nipple.
While one of my hands grabbed her ass to steady myself, I wrapped my fingers around her throat and squeezed. Satisfied only when she began to gasp, sucking air in the shallow breaths I allowed, I felt my balls begin to tighten, reading for my orgasm. Continuously, I thrust into her, each one more powerful than the one before it. I felt her body begin to go limp, her lips moving as she tried to speak.
"Like it when a cowboy fucks you hard, slut," I sneered as her hands reached for my wrists. My hold was firm, her strength nothing compared to my own, and she uselessly clawed at my arms to release her. Smirking, I gripped tighter, watching her eyes widen in fright. Two thrust later, I came, my entire body tensing as I filled her, my cock pulsed with each burst of hot seed just as her life drifted from her. When I pulled out and her limp body fell to the side, her hair became long waves, freckles spotted across her face and dark brown lifeless eyes stared back at me.
"BELLA!" I screamed as I grabbed her shoulders and shook her, willing the life back into her body, but as her head swayed side to side, her jaw slack, I realized it was too late. Like a vampire, I had drained the life from her.
"Jasper," he called to me. "Wake up, it's okay, wake up," his voice coaxed me awake. Slowly my eyes opened, Peter's hand was on my chest as he shook me. Focusing, I saw the look of fear on his face, his eyes wide. "What the hell was that?"
"What?" I murmured.
"You were fucking screaming Bella's name, and your entire body was shaking, convulsing. Then you just stopped. That's when I woke you up. Scared the shit out of me."
"Sorry," I mumbled.
"What to talk about it?" he offered.
How could I tell him? How could I tell him that I just had just practically raped and then strangled Bella in my dream? What did it mean, did I feel I was sucking the life from her with my presence, was the nightmare just confirmation I had done the right thing or did it mean something else entirely? In the beginning the woman had clearly been the one I had attempted to get a blow job from, and in the end she had turned into the love of my life. I had had the nightmare a few times before where the woman in the bar had turned into Bella as we had sex but I was getting progressively rougher in each and every one, ultimately leading to her death at my hands.
I shook my head and rolled over, away from Peter. I thought he would leave, but instead, he sighed and leaned back in his seat. When I couldn't keep my eyes open any longer, my lids heavy, I felt them flutter closed and I unwillingly fell into the darkness.
The next time they opened, it was dark and I was alone. Slowly, I got out of the bed I had barely left for days. I reeked and desperately needed a shower, but had to get my luggage. Shirtless, I went outside to the truck. Opening the passenger door, I reached in for my small duffle back and spotted the singing cactus on the floor, his smiling face staring back up at me. Tentatively, I reached down and picked it up. Slowly, I brought it up to my nose and inhaled, hoping her scent might have remained on the plush fur.
Think I can make it now, the pain is gone. All of the bad feelings have disappeared
Here is the rainbow I've been praying for. It's gonna be a bright, bright sunshiny day.
I wished it was so easy, that praying for a rainbow would brighten my days, lift the darkness that had settled around me and allowed the sunshine that I had left with her to shine on me again. As the song played, I saw her sitting beside me in the truck, a grin on her face she as she sang with the cactus.
I smiled.
And my heart broke.
I wanted nothing more than to destroy it, it was nothing but a lie. I wouldn't see clearly again and the sun would never shine down on me. Tightening my fist around it, I began to beat it against the dashboard of my truck, slamming it as hard as I could into the hard plastic. I wanted it broken and destroyed like I was, I wanted something, anything, to share my anguish with me.
"What the fuck are you doing?" he asked from behind me. His voice surprised me and I stopped. Looking down at the cactus, his body deformed but his wide eyes and smile unchanged, I slid to the ground.
"I don't want it," I growled, covering my face with my hands as I sat on the cool pavement, the moon and stars decorating the black blanketed sky above us. Peter kneeled in front of me and put a hand on my shoulder. Gradually, I calmed, my body going from shaking to quivering. He pried the cactus from my hands and looked at its mangled form.
"Did she give it to you," he asked. I shook my head.
"I got it for her," I said in unsteady voice.
He sighed. "Don't destroy it, Jasper. It was given out of love. Go inside, take a shower, I'll bring your stuff in."
Obediently, I went inside and headed for the bathroom. I took a long, hot shower, relishing in the hot water as it nearly scalded my skin. He had done as he promised. When I got back to the bedroom, my clothes were on the bed. After I dried off, I put on clean underwear and slid back into bed, knowing he would join me soon.
I wasn't wrong. Moments later, he opened the door and took his position in the chair. I almost suggested that if he insisted on staying, he could sleep in the bed, but as the thought occurred to me, my eyes drifted closed and slumber took me.
"**~~**"
"Jasper," he called from the doorway. Groaning, I rolled over to find him standing there in nothing but a pair of jeans. "You need to eat something, come get some food."
Nodding and numb, I got out of the bed and followed him to the kitchen where there was some pizza on the table.
Apparently, it wasn't morning.
"What time is it?" I asked as I sat down.
"About six, I got up about an hour ago, called in the pizza and took a shower. I got out just as the delivery guy came. I think he was a bit surprised when I answered in nothing but a towel," he smirked. I actually smiled, picturing the awkward delivery boy trying to avoid looking at Peter as he paid for the pizza. "You feel okay?"
Shrugging, I grabbed a slice of pizza and took a bite. It was the first solid food in days, and it was tasteless but it quickly filled me up.
"Are you going out?" I asked worriedly.
"No, I just smelled like shit. I was going to watch a movie. Care to join me?" he swallowed and took another bite. I nodded and we continued to eat in silence, finishing off about half the pizza. When we were done, Peter stood and put the leftovers in the fridge before heading for his room to change. When he joined me on the couch in the living room a few minutes later, he was in a pair of cotton sleep pants and tee shirt.
"Want a beer?" he asked heading into the kitchen.
"How do you have beer?"
He winked over his shoulder at me. "Charlotte. She's a year older than us. I don't drink often but it's nice to have some around. Want one?"
The night in the bar I had had whiskey and had felt a bit lighter when it flowed in my bloodstream. I knew alcohol wasn't going to make the pain go away, but it would help me forget for a few minutes. And if a few minutes were all I could get, I would gladly take it.
"A few please," I replied. Chuckling, he returned with a six pack and placed it on the coffee table. After opening one, I took a long swig. It was refreshing and cold going down. Immediately, I wanted more. He sat next to me, mimicking my position, slumped on the couch with our feet on the table in front of the couch. Quickly he skipped through the channels, finally settling on some action movie.
"This okay?" he asked, tossing the remote down. Taking a gulp of my beer, I nodded.
Silently we watched the movie. As much as I tried to pay attention the plot, I found my mind wandering, always finding its way back to her and Edward. When I caught Peter watching me with a worried look, I wondered why.
"Sorry, man, we can change it," he said as he reached over to pick up the remote. The 'action' movie had turned romantic, the couple was camping near a campfire, their flirting disguised as banter. When the male lead leaned in to kiss his girl by the glow of the warm fire, my stomach twisted. It could have just as easily been her and I.
Closing my eyes to block out the romantic images on the television was a mistake. What I saw behind my lids was a hundred times worse. I saw Edward and her together, quick intimate moments between them, stolen kisses at the grocery store, him teaching her how to drive a standard, Christmas with the Cullens. In each moment they were happy, their life having gone on without me in it. The last image was of her in a gown of white and him in a black tuxedo as they stood holding hands. He smiled down on her as he slid the wedding band symbolizing their lifelong commitment onto her finger. With tears on her cheeks, she smiled proudly up at him, the love between them visible to even the blind.
"I do," she whispered to him.
The words had barely left her mouth and I was pushing myself off the couch and running for the bathroom. Not even closing the door, I knelt in front of the toilet just as my stomach twisted my dinner back up. Sweaty, I leaned back against the wall, gasping for breath. He stood in the doorway with a look of worry on his face.
"You okay?"
Nodding, I rubbed my hands over my face. The nauseous returned and I leaned over the toilet again. His hand rubbed my back and my body gagged and retched. Weak, I laid my head on my arm, my sides heaving from the exertion. Sliding his hands under my arms, he lifted me up. With an arm around my waist, he helped back to the bedroom. I had woken up hours prior thinking I had improved only to then realize I had taken many steps downward my own staircase to hell.
In the room, he laid me on the bed, covering me with a sheet. He sat in the chair while I cried myself to sleep.
"**~**~~"
"Jasper, fucking help me out here," he growled as he wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me from the truck. I didn't know what time it was but it was dark out as he and I shuffled up the stairs to the door. He leaned me against the wall and I swayed while he unlocked the door and guided me inside. "Can you make it to the bedroom?"
"Yessssir," I slurred as I rested my head on his shoulder. "How'd I get here?" I spoke but my own voice sounded distant and unrecognizable. Pushing the door open, he stood me by the bed and as he went to pull off my shirt, I lost my balance and fell onto the mattress. "Wheeeee," I said as the room spun in circles. "When did the bed start movin'?" Sighing heavily, he roughly pulled off my boots. "Jesus, man, careful of the goods," I complained gruffly.
"Move your ass into bed," he demanded. Slowly, I did as I was told and felt my head hit the pillow. "You better not fuckin' get sick," he insisted as I heard him sit in his chair.
The alcohol, thick in my blood, encouraged a deep, dark and nightmare free sleep.
The throbbing wouldn't stop, every part of my head pounded as I struggled to open my eyes. My throat felt as though something had long since died in it and tasted even worse. Slowly, I turned my head to the side and saw him sitting there, sleeping peacefully. I didn't remember much from the night before, the last thing I recalled was arguing with Peter about college.
"Are you fucking shitting me?" he had almost yelled. With my head bowed, I shook it and remained silent during his tirade. "You got a fucking full scholarship to University of Texas and you fucking refused it?" That time I nodded, still refusing to look at him. "I can't fucking believe you did that." He stood up and walked into the kitchen. I heard a few cupboard doors slam before he reappeared in the doorway. "Explain why? Tell me, Jasper, why did you not want to come home?"
I traced the pattern on his couch with a finger, plucking at the random strings while I tried to think of an answer that would satisfy him.
I failed.
I never would have told him, it was a secret I had carried alone for over year until Edward had seen the letter. Not thinking, I had asked Peter to get something from my luggage and he had found it. When he stood in the doorway of the bathroom while I shaved, he had the envelope in his hand and asked what it was. I couldn't lie and confessed about the acceptance and scholarship. After the look of shock on his face had turned to outrage, he threw the letter on the bed and stormed outside. I had dressed quickly and went to look for him, finding him pacing along the deck between the plastic chairs. His rant began out there but we had ended up in the living room where I sat on the couch like a scolded boy as he sat beside me, making no attempt to conceal the frustration flowing freely from him.
He returned to the couch and sat next to me again. "Why Jasper?" he had asked quietly, his voice calmer than only seconds earlier. "You had a chance to come home and you didn't do it."
When I finally spoke to defend myself, my voice was meek, "I couldn't."
Running his hand through his hair, he sighed heavily. "You must really love her."
He knew. He knew my reason wasn't because I didn't want to see him, or be in Texas, but it was because I couldn't have left her and Edward.
Which was exactly what I had done, only a year later.
"It doesn't matter," I whispered, confirming his suspicions.
The anger returned to his voice. "The fuck it doesn't," he declared. "Jasper, you gave up almost eighty thousand dollars, you'll be paying back student loans for years…you gave up Texas, all you had ever known."
Finally, I raised my head and looked at him. His face was passive, the anger suddenly gone, replaced with a tranquility. Without another word, he got up and left the room, closing his bedroom door lightly behind him. Less than a minute later, I was grabbing my keys and heading for my truck.
When he groaned, his eyes opened and he caught me watching him.
"How do you feel?" his voice was husky with sleep.
"Like shit," I answered thickly.
Stretching, he mumbled, "I'm not surprised."
"Do I even want to know what happened?"
"What do you remember?"
"Talking about college with you," I replied, glancing away.
Sitting up, he got out of the chair. "I'm going to go take a shower."
"Wait, tell me what happened last night?"
"We'll talk about it later, but Jasper, you've got some thinking to do. You've been here a week, and I know it's been rough and you're hurting but…" He opened the door but turned to me before he left. "You need to decide if you're staying here or going back to Washington. But…aw fuck, you know I'll support whatever you decide, and if you decide to stay in Texas, you're welcome to stay with us."
Leaving me with that thought, he closed the door softly behind him. Sighing, I closed my eyes, trying to drive the panic that had risen in me away. Finally, he had he had basically told me to cowboy up and decide what the hell I was going to do.
He was asking me to do the very thing I was afraid of doing.
Going on with my life.
A few hours later, he had left, finally returning to work after taking five days off to be with me. Charlotte wasn't due home for a week, so I was home alone. After sleeping most of the day away, and doing my best to avoid any thoughts relating to my life, I finally crawled out of bed and went into the bathroom. Even though the Texas sun was shining brightly, a darkness enveloped me, thick and hazy, settling around me like ash. Hoping I could wash it away, I stripped off my boxers and headed for the bathroom.
Naked, I stood in front of the scarred porcelain sink as I dragged the razor blade slowly along the soft, tender skin of my throat in long upward strokes. My hands expertly guided the plastic handle over my Adam's apple, curving along the tougher skin of my jaw covered in blond stubble, leaving trails of bare skin in the white foam. In my reflection, my eyes ignored the face in the mirror, instead they focused only on following the movement of my hand as it continued. Out of habit, after every stroke, I banged the razor on the side of the sink, dropping small whiskers in the porcelain, then quickly rinsed the blade under the running water before reintroducing it to my throat.
After tapping the blade against the sink, I looked down at it curiously, studying the thin strips of metal with tiny hairs scattered on them. Such small weapons for the damage they could inflict, the life they could drain.
So sharp.
I ran my index finger horizontally along the blade, crimson drops splattering onto the white porcelain below, landing, they spread out until they were only thin, faint pink drops before being captured by the water and circling down the drain. Turning my finger over, I inspected the slices closely, three thin perfectly straight marks decorated my fingertip, the small flaps of skin already pale from lack of blood. I relished in the sting the self inflicted cut had brought me.
Suddenly, frighteningly, I realized I wanted more; I realized my heart was distracted by the burn of my finger. For a moment, I felt…something. Though it was far from normal. Not sure I would ever feel normal, whatever the fuck that was, again, but I did feel something other than the intense ache that had dug a hole in my black soul and nestled in my chest. With every beat of my dead heart, my blood pushed the ache throughout my body, making sure it wrapped tightly around every muscle, touching every fucking cell and fiber. Bringing my wrist up close to my face, I studied the blue tinted map of veins running just under the delicate layer of skin. I imagined how much a larger burn would ease the burden of my heart even more, distract the ache in my chest, even temporarily.
It would be so easy.
So fucking easy.
Glancing at the tub I had just gotten out of, it occurred to me that it would be the most appropriate place to perform such a messy task. The image of my pale, cold body, half covered up with tepid pink-tinted water flashed before my eyes. The blurry form of my legs, folded up to fit into the small tub, my eyes blank in death, half open, blue clouded over with emptiness left in the wake of my actions. Damp curls stuck to my face, mouth gaped open a bit as my last breath escaped from my purplish lips, my head lay against the back of the curved tub. I saw my wrist hanging over the edge, fingers with dirty nails dangling as lines of blood ran down them, dropping red blots onto the tiled floor where they pooled before congealing, thickening to a syrup-like texture. As my life drained out of me, it gathered on the linoleum, grouping where the dirt and lint there discolored it as it spread out, gradually increasing the size of the puddle.
The dull florescent light above the mirror flickered and caught the reflection of a tear, drawing my eyes back to my face. I hadn't looked at myself in days, avoiding seeing the broken man that had taken my place, my new best friend, the empty shell that had become Jasper Whitlock. Silently, the tears fell from my eyes, down my cheeks and dropped into the sink, mixing and blending with my blood there. Bloodshot eyes, dirty, greasy hair, pale skin and black circles greeted me in my reflection. With my bloody finger, I reached up, tracing my face in the mirror, down my cheek, along the curve of my half-shaven jaw line, smudging faint blood engraved with fingerprints along the marred mirror. Mesmerized by the bloody face staring back at me; I realized the outside of my body was finally start to match the inside-bitter, dirty, worthless. Even my inked skin seemed pale and dull. The words faded as I stared at them. Their meaning never being truer than it was then. I had given so that they may do. Glancing from the razor to my dead body in the tub, my fingers gripped the plastic handle tighter. Just drag it along….
So easy.
I could physically do it. I was sure of it.
I couldn't emotionally do it. I was sure of it.
The desperation, the isolation, the fucking loneliness, wouldn't leave me, instead they had each wrapped their evil vines tightly around my soul, draining it more and more with each beat of my heart. Sucking, taking everything good from my life and replacing it with nothing but darkness, a darkness I couldn't see through. Pangs of agony ran through me, the solace I had hoped to find in Texas was non-existent, no matter how hard I had hoped to find it.
Closing my eyes, my palms rested on the edge of the sink for balance as I felt the angel's warm hands wrap around my waist, the moist breath on my back as soft lips place tiny kisses along my skin, my muscles flexing under the brief caresses. Tiny fingers graze my abdomen, outlining the indentations shadowed there, other fingers ran the outline of my tattoo. Deftly, the tips of the fingers slid lower, skimming over my flaccid cock, coaxing it to lengthen. My head lolled back, and I felt the shaving cream begin to slip down my throat a bit when my lips curled up into a satisfied smile.
The angel's breath tickles my ear as she whispers to me. "Hey, Hale."
Not even sure the word is audible, but I choked out a 'hey' in reply, the vines strangling the word as it escaped me, denying her angel ears the chance to hear. Thinking I hadn't replied, that I didn't care, that I didn't love her, she removed her hands from around me, and with one last kiss to my shoulder began to fade away, unable to hear my response to her greeting, not knowing how much I loved her.
Please, angel, don't leave me, I need you, I begged silently.
For only in my angle's eyes, I was a complete man, not the shell standing here thinking of an escape route because he is too fucking weak to deal with the pain.
Thoughtfully, I stared at the razor, tempting my fingers to bring it to my wrist. With little planning, I could be resting, suffering no more. I briefly wondered if I would leave a note, easing their minds of their involvement in my decision; or would I leave them wondering why for the rest of their lives.
I would do neither.
It wasn't my heart to stop anymore. My angel owned it, not me. It hadn't been mine since the day she walked into the lunchroom at Forks High all those years ago. I had left it in her hands the day I left her at Edward's, for her to watch over and protect. I had entrusted it to her and she didn't even know it. I could only hope I had done the right thing. I hadn't even had the chance to ask her watch over it for me.
I considered that. If she did have my heart, then how could it fucking hurt in my chest so much; the constant ache, tightening, throbbing always there just under the surface. How could my heart hurt if it wasn't even in me?
So easy.
So easy just to end the ache, to fill the emptiness with nothingness instead. I didn't realize I had dropped the razor until I heard it clink on the sink, sliding down the side, landing at the bottom while the warm water steadily flowed around it.
With a loud cry, I fell to my knees, my hands fisting my hair as the sobs wreaked havoc on my body and soul, traveling through it forcefully. I fell against the cool tub, my hot flesh jumping at the contact, I drew my legs up to my chest, resting my forehead on my knees, the tears soaking my skin quickly. Loud cries fill the tiny room as the uncontrollable emotions flowed throughout every cell in my body, seeking escape. I had let the most beautiful thing in my life walk away without a fight; without even telling her how much she meant to me.
It fucking hurt.
So much.
I prayed briefly for it to end. I prayed longer for the strength I knew I didn't have to end it.
For what seemed like hours, I sat there, my body shaking from the exhaustion the emptying of emotions left behind. As my wailing cries withered into whimpers, I felt completely drained, my stinging eyes eventually dried, dehydration setting in.
Almost as if I had drained the blood from my body already.
Those drops of blood long washed away in the sink had her name on them, my blood was hers, my heart, my breath.
How could I survive without those things?
As I sat there, slowly I realized I could go on with my life. I would be that empty shell of man, cold blood filling my veins instead of her warmth, bitter tasting air in my lungs instead of her sweet breath, and stone harden muscle in place a soft thumping heart. With a few deep breaths, I picked myself up off the floor, once again facing the mirror.
I looked at my eyes, the blue hue still visible, but the life behind them clearly not, only emptiness was left behind.
That was the man I would have to become if I was going to survive.
So easy.
Like Peter had said, I had a decision to make. Only it wasn't whether I was going to stay in Texas or return to her, it was whether I was going to live or die.
I was too weak to follow through with taking my life, and I was too ashamed to return to her and Edward. Staring at my lifeless eyes, I decided I would compromise by becoming walking dead. Physically alive, but emotionally void.
Decision made, I quickly wiped off my face and went back to the bedroom. I didn't have to look hard, it was sitting on top of my clothes in my duffle bag. Pulling it out, I went to the bed and grabbed the phone on the table.
I was going to give to that they may do.
I dialed the number.
"University of Texas, admissions office, how can I help you?"
"**~~**"
Thanks for reading~
So was anyone surprised? I think it was about 50/50 on whether he was at home or Peter's, some thought he went to his parents, and a few thought he went home but it was Jake that answered.
As of now, we've got 2 more chapters and then the epilogue, perhaps a few outtakes if we hit 1k in reviews.
