Penname: Alsper

Original or Derivative (fanfiction): Derivative

Rating/Warning(s)/Note(s): Rating = T /I took creative liberties, instead of finding it in a floorboard it was in box. K: You might need tissues for this, but I originally wrote this for my January witfits, but as Robs and Kim (who beta'd for me at the time) read it we all agreed it was, too spoilerish for the DaS readers at the time. And since today is a "refective day" Robs and I decided to give y'all this little treat :)

Disclaimer: All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.

Prompt: Imagined Image: You found this woman's diary with her obituary in a box under a wooden floor plank. What secrets did she take to the grave? http:/ images34. fotki. com/ v1076/ photos/ 9/ 9610/ 16264/ highheels-vi. jpg? 1200877601

I had a mission, a mission that I gave myself after listening to Jasper in his sleep.

Since he had returned home from the hospital, he had been dreaming about his mom more. One of the joys of being pregnant was little man didn't want momma to sleep like a normal human. So I would turn the little light on and work on the blanket or read.

One thing I noticed in Jasper's sleep was that he was worried. His mom never came back. He'd often whimper for her in his sleep, a scared child looking for his mother for comfort, and it would break my heart.

I had asked for Esme's help to find her. Just to know what ever became of Mrs. Whitlock. Maybe knowing that she was safe would help.

After three weeks of the best private eye the Cullens could buy, I was ready to give up. Maybe having him talk about his dream would help, since it seems that it's the only way that I could help.

I sighed and yanked out the row of stitching I had done when I heard a chuckle from behind me. I leaned my head back and looked up into Dr. Cullen's eyes.

"Hi Carlisle," I said with a smile.

"You remind me of Rose when she was pregnant with Amber," he said with a small smile as he shook his head. "Esme taught her how to knit after Rose pleaded and begged. The boys and I were worried for Esme's sanity since the crochet lessons didn't go smoothly." He moved to sit on the couch beside me and that's when I noticed a package. "Rose would get so frustrated because she wanted to make Amber the brightest blanket ever seen. With pinks, oranges, yellows... the color of the sunrise. But Emmett wanted it to have blue, because he was certain it was going to be a boy." He chuckled again. "I think that's why Amber's favorite color changes with her mood."

I smiled at him, genuinely interested in the story behind Rose's first pregnancy.

He ran his hand along the blanket that covered my lap. "You have far more patience than Rose... Perhaps that's what makes us all work."

I put my crochet hook down and furrowed my eyebrows as I thought that over. "I don't understand, Carlisle," I said, shaking my head.

He patted my knee in a fatherly way. "Well, look at Rose and Emmett. She's headstrong with a no nonsense attitude; Emmett is more of a joker, but they work well together. She makes him be the man and father he is, whereas he makes Rose remember to sit back and have a laugh."

I smiled and nodded. "Emmett definitely makes her smile, like none other."

Carlisle nodded. "It's the same with you and Jasper. When you first got here, I remember you being this shy little girl that clung to Jasper like he was your life preserver. You only gave us these little polite smiles and never really laughed. But he could make your face light up and have you filling the room with laughter." I blushed and ducked my head at his words. "And you, you have a lot of patience with Jasper. Given everything you've been through and done to each other, you wait for him to be ready." I felt his finger hook under my chin, lifting it to look at him. "Even when you think you can't help him, you still find a way." He lifted the box shaking it a little.

"Not to be rude, but what's in the box?" I asked.

He smiled. "I was wondering when you were going to ask." He put the box in my lap, and I saw that it was addressed to Esme. "Esme would have given it to you herself, but she is indisposed at the moment. But she did inform me that you would be the best to tell Jasper if you feel you must." He smiled sadly before kissing my forehead. "And I couldn't agree more."

"Thank you," I said softly, knowing in my heart Jasper's mom was gone.

Once Carlisle left, I folded up the blanket and went over to the chair Jasper typically sat in to read. Slowly, I opened the box, feeling almost criminal that I just didn't take this straight to Jasper.

The box jumped slightly as our son kicked, making me laugh nervously. "Shh, little man. I promise I'll tell daddy," I quietly said to my belly as my hand absentmindedly rubbed where the baby kicked.

I was fairly certain the baby was calm now, so I continued to look in the box. Inside was a letter from the investigator confirming my thoughts, as well as several pictures, Michelle Whitlock's death certificate, her obituary and a book.

I looked over the death certificate and gasped at the cause of death. "Asphyxiation" was the official cause. Did his dad do this to her? Did Mr. Whitlock take Jasper's mom away like that? I wiped the tears from my face as I placed the certificate back in the box.

I picked up the obituary. It was short and sweet and painted a picture of a woman who was loved by her family. She was survived by her sister, mother and only son. I gently touched the paper where Jasper's name was printed. Somewhere, he had family that still thought of him, still loved him, and knew he was safe.

I safely tucked the paper in the back of the leather bound book. "What do you think? Pictures or book first?" I asked aloud, knowing I'd look like a fool to anyone else. Holden - although I would never admit to Jazz I called him that - kicked my left side in response. The hand that held the pictures. "Pictures it is," I laughed.

The woman in the pictures was beautiful. Her smile and eyes were so alive with happiness that it was easy to see where Jasper got his. Her hair hung in long waves of golden, sun-kissed hair, which made my fingers want to run my hands through, just to see if it was as soft and as thick as her son's.

She was definitely a looker; several pictures showcased her body in bikinis and form fitting dresses. But it was the ones towards the bottom of the stack that made my heart swell and break all at once. Pictures of her sitting on a couch, hand sewing a blanket as a very evident bump showed, despite the coverings. More pictures of her smiling proudly and holding a little infant in her arms as his little chubby hand held her finger.

Then I saw it. A toddler-sized Jasper clinging to his mother's leg as he smiled at the camera. Again, the same look of pure happiness and love she held for him so apparent in her eyes.

"Oh Jazz..." I whispered, my heart breaking for him. I wanted to show him this picture, to show him that someone in his family loved him.

I gasped at the last picture. It had Jasper, his mother and another woman, who honestly looked like she was a mirrored reflection of Michelle. I flipped the back of the picture the date said July 4th, 1991 and had both Jasper and his mother's name but the other woman's name as well.

"Regina," I read aloud. Was this his aunt? Was she the one that gave the information that the paper needed for Michelle? Surely, it wasn't his father, since there was no mention of him at all.

I put the pictures down on the table beside me and pulled the book out, opening it to a random page. Elegant handwriting greeted me with a date that would have placed Jasper around five years old.

I can't believe I left him with that monster...

Oh my God! This was Michelle's diary. A part of me wanted to slam the book shut and never look at it again, but a bigger part wanted answers, so I kept reading.

I need to find somewhere safe for Jasper and I. Somewhere Mark will never find us. I can't go to Gina. I can't put her family through this as well...

I scanned farther down, the handwriting getting more urgent with her words.

I love you Jasper, I do. Please know mommy will be back for you. I'll always be there. Don't stop fighting, you were always a fighter. Just hold on baby... please.

I didn't realize someone was in the room until I heard them say my name softly. I turned to look in the direction of the voice. "Oh, Jasper!" I cried, throwing myself out of the chair and into his arms. "She loved you, Jazz... so much. It killed her to do it, but she had to," I sobbed into his chest, pleading her case to him.

He ran his hands through my hair, comforting me. "I know, baby, I know."

I looked up at him with watery eyes. "We need to find your aunt Regina. To show her you survived... please, Jazz."

He nodded sadly. "Okay, baby, we will." His thumbs brushed my tears away from under my eyes.

I stood up on my toes to kiss him. "Your mom would be proud of you, you know?" I said softly. He gave me a small smile and kissed me again. And she would be, because he survived, found love, and started his own family. What more could a mother want for her son?

We know a lot of y'all had questions about Kinksper's mom and hopefully this answered some questions for ya :)