Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight, or anything to do with it, however the OC's are all my own. The concept of Jasper being the 'God of War' is something that I've read in a few fics, but I don't know where it originates, so I'm sorry for not giving credit where credit's due! Plus, I have no idea what Louisianna, or Wisconsin are like - I'm from England, so please, forgive any mistakes. Have a great day, and I love you guys!

Camilla POV

October 2020

Madison, Wisconsin

Monday reared her ugly head, and I found myself, not for the first time, wishing I could stay at home, however as my Pops was none the wiser about the incident on Saturday night, I had to go to school, otherwise it would have been too suspicious. Rolling around onto my back, I found myself, for the second time, to be sleeping in Clyde's room, finding that my own was too quiet and lonely.

At least here I was accompanied by the loud, distracting sounds of his snores to divert myself attentions whenever my thoughts became too toxic for even me to stand. I stepped out of his bed, and after glancing back at him slowly-rousing form, I found myself actually smiling for the first time this weekend.

Whenever I needed him, he was there, and there weren't enough words for me to use to express my gratitude for the blessing that was my big brother.

Shuffling into the shower, I intended on only being in there for a few minutes, however, once again, I felt the gooseflesh break out across my skin and, once again, I felt filthy. Like if I scrubbed hard enough, what happened to me would just wash away, like the water that swirled down the drain, but it never happened.

By the time I stepped out of the shower, my skin was blisteringly red and blotchy, and I knew I would have to wear clothes long enough to cover the blemishes. They looked like burn marks, and I felt clean, if only for the few moments I allowed myself to simply forget what happened.

It could have been much worse, had Jasper, who I had yet to thank, not stepped in. I shudder to think of how it could have played out if he hadn't been around.

Padding back into my own bedroom, pressing play on my iPod dock, just to keep out the silence, an indie tune with a nuance of modern-day pop began playing, and I gave a soundless thanks for the distraction.

Throwing on a clean pair of black underwear, but taking care as to not irritate my skin further. After rubbing soothing lotion onto my skin, carefully, I quickly began getting dressed in my already chosen outfit. The crappy weather had continued on from that Saturday afternoon, and my clothing choice reflected that.

A thick knitted maroon sweater that fell to my knees, surrounding me with warmth and comfort, coupled with a pair of tight jeans, and on my feet, a comfy pair of mid-calf black winter boots. After blow-drying my hair, so that all of the curls were gone, I tied it up and out of the way in a cute crown braid, with a tied black and white bandana turned into a headband. Around my neck was a thick gray snood, and matching mittens were pulling onto my thin fingers.

Smothering on a little bit of lip chap onto my mouth, I avoided my reflection on my way out of my bedroom.

Noticing that Clyde was stepping out of his bedroom, just as I was, I found myself hugging his broad back to my chest, and sighing, "Thank you, Cly," and took a moment to just listen to his heartbeat.

He intertwined our hands, and replied, "It's fine, Cher, I'm here for you."

He was wearing a taut grey short-sleeved tee, tightly stretched across his chest, and a pair of dark coloured jeans, a trench coat over his shoulders, bracing his away from the old. A claret beanie was pulled onto his head, causing his still-wet curly hair into his hazel-green eyes.

His smile was wide and whiter than fresh snow, his dimples deep and endearing as ever. He sighed, "Come on, Cher, time for school," and threw his arm over my shoulders, and tugged me over to the staircase, with a sharp knock on our father's door, just to let him know that we were leaving.

-0-

"Imma go meet the guys, alright, Cher?" Clyde asked me, as we pulled into the parking lot of the gates of Hell AKA school, and I nodded in understanding.

Hell, I had people to go meet, anyway, so I wouldn't be alone. We parted ways, then, although I could feel his eyes on me the entire time, worry clear in his gaze, however I promptly ignored it, like I did everything else that bothered me.

I would not cry. I couldn't cry.

"Hey, Camilla! Come on, hurry up!" Malory shouted from her pretty pink Mini Cooper, and I strolled over, rolling my eyes at her preppy antics. "We missed you this weekend, what were you up to?"

I shrugged, ignoring the throbbing of my arms that reminded me of my early morning cleansing, and replied, "Nothin' really. And yourself?"

"Nu-uh, sugar, we heard that you were at the Cullen's house - what is that all about?"

I rolled my gray eyes, again, and answered, honestly, "Jus' for dinner. Alice wanted Clyde to meet her parents, you see."

Leila Eton, another girl I had found a friend in, asked "What about you?" and at my raised, questioning eyebrow, she elaborated, "What did you do while they were all cosy?"

Leila's hair was straight, and as black as the tarmac beneath us, her eyes just as dark, although her skin had taken on a paler, more sullen tone. Part of her family were of Japanese decent, explaining her dark features, however she looked more like her father, the American, than her mother, the Tokyo-native.

I answered, "Nothin'. I watched TV and ate dinner, nothin' special."

I knew they wanted more of the juicy gossip, like all other teens our age, but I just really had nothing to give 'em. I didn't do anything but eat, grumble or cry, not that I'd let them know that anyway.

Robin White joined us then, Malory's on-again off-again senior boyfriend, as well as linebacker of the school's football team, along with my brother, The Jaguars, who had already made Co-Captain. Their Captain, and star quarterback was Danny, who.. Was waving at me from his car? No.. it couldn't be, could it?

But, sure enough, there he was, all dimples waving at me from his black Mercedes A Class, and I couldn't stop myself from giving him a particularly sheepish wave back. The star cheerleader, Amber Brien, didn't like that at all, as they were considered the 'All-Star Couple' of the school.

You know that whole 'Prom King and Queen Bee' thing that drove most girls insane. They were the It-Couple, and apparently I was throwing a spanner in the works, because she was coming - read stomping - over right now. My face flushed at the attention I was getting, even after being here for nearly a month and a half.

Amber's long hair, bleach blonde and pin-straight, flowed behind her like the train of a wedding dress, and her sharp, straight features made her seem like a supermodel, strutting along the runway, somewhere like Paris or Milan, not dreary Wisconsin.

She smiled, her aura reeking of fakery, "Hey, Camilla! How are you?"

I stared at her, blankly for a moment, before my shielded ears tinged pink, and I replied, stonily, "Fine. Why?"

She stepped forward then, and I could almost feel the number of eyes on us as she replied, "Just wondering. "You know," she whispered, then, "Danny was just being friendly, right?"

Not quite understanding where she was going, I glanced at a concerned Daniel, who's brow was furrowed, and replied, "Yeah.. So?"

She batted her lashes at me, and I had to stop myself from heaving, "So.. You shouldn't get too attached to him. Those kind of girls are pathetic, don't you think?"

Having had enough of her passive-aggressive bullshit, I stepped forward, piercing her bubble of spicy-scented perfume, and replied, sarcastically, "Yeah, Amber, I do, so maybeyou should take a leaf out of your own book, and leave me the Hell alone," drawing laughs from those who could hear us.

Hey blue eyes stared stonily back at me, before she hissed, quietly, "Listen, you stay away from Daniel, otherwise there will be trouble."

Immediately, I replied, not in control of my mouth any longer, "For who?"

She bared her teeth at me, for a moment, before her eyes cooled, and her expression faded to a much calmer one, and she answered, "Don't push me, Louisiana."

Scoffing, slightly, I answered, sardonically, "I'm not the one who approached you, sweet cheeks."

She glanced at me, with scorn written all over her features, before flipping her hair over one of her shoulders, and sashaying away. Fuckin' idiot.

Malory placed a comforting hand on my shoulder, to which I, involuntarily, winced at, and avoided her confused stare. She asked, "You wanna get to class?"

Nodding, I scratched behind my ear, glancing around the slowly filling parking lot, and noticing that Alice's pretty bright yellow Porsche was pulling into the car park.

My heartbeat trebled, then, at the thought of seeing any of them again, and I practically sprinted through the front doors, catapulting across the laminated floors and up the flight of stairs, arriving in my morning form, taking my seat at the back of the room, and hoping that the day would go by quickly.

-0-

Okay, so I was being a pussy.

A bit, fat, pathetic pussy, but I couldn't face them.

Alright, more specifically, I couldn't face him.

Jasper.

Jasper fuckin' Whitlock was gonna be the death of me, I swear it. His face, his Goddamn perfect face, was giving me a fuckin' headache!

In the cafeteria, he was jus' sitting there, all quiet, but staring straight through me, with concentration so intense, it was almost like he was tryna peel my soul from inside of my body with nothin' but a butter knife and a sponge. It was more than a little unnerving, and that's why I was, currently, sitting on one of the benches in the grassy area behind the school complex. People usually came round here for a smoke or two, but I really didn't care for that kind of behaviour. Not now, anyway.

Honestly, I was trying to find some kind of inspiration for my music presentation that was going to take place the following day. Our teacher had told us that we needed to find a song, either original or a cover, that represented where we were right now in life.

Most of the class was probably going to do some kind of rendition of a modern pop song, but I didn't have that in me. I was happiest when I was with my guitar, or sitting on the smooth bench of a piano, and I knew that being out here, surrounded by the crisp mid-morning air was what I needed.

Unfortunately, that euphoric happiness was short-lived as I heard the scrunching of gravel a few metres from my body, and when I turned around, I saw the very face of the person I was trying so fuckin' hard to avoid.

Jasper.

"Hey," he drawled, concern etched onto his features, "You alright?"

Rolling my eyes, I huffed, "Clyde send you out here to check up on me?"

He shook his head, slightly, before taking a few steps towards me, so now he was standing directly beside me. He sat down, his cool skin only jus' brushing the fleshy part of my palm, but still, enough for me to feel the aching coldness that radiated from him. It made me take in a sharp breath, in surprise, before relaxing. I stated, "You're cold."

He smirked, as if there was some joke that I couldn't understand, and remarked, evenly, "That I am."

Oh, he was such a cocky fucker, wasn't he?

I asked, distractedly, turning my pen in between my fingers, "Why are you out here anyway?"

He shrugged. "Wanted to see the sights, I suppose."

Scoffing, faintly, I sat forward, turning my body towards him slightly, "And I'm supposed to buy that?"

"No." he stated, "But it was worth a try, wasn't it?"

Shaking my head, a little, I asked, "So you wanna tell me why you're really out here?"

He shrugged, once more, and it made me want to either punch him or kiss him. I didn't know which one I was more inclined to carry out.

Standing up, "I guess I ain't gonna get no privacy round here, so I'm headin' inside," then as I began walking away, he reached out, and seized my elbow in his cold grasp, making my entire being itch. The chill from his hand radiated through my sweater, and pacified the throbbing from my whaled skin. He admonished, in that ridiculously deep voice of his, tenderly, "Don't. Obviously I'm out here for you, now stop bein' an asshole and talk to me."

I glanced at him, then, and, in his golden orbs, I could see my own reflection, and it made my eyes widen in surprise.

Pure, unadulterated anger had flared in my orbs.

I was livid at the men who attacked me. I was furious at myself for gettin' caught in the situation. I was angry that it was Jasper who helped me, and not my brother. I was so mad that I couldn't tell my dad, simply because of the shame that wrecked me every single time I thought about it.

I was so enraged at Paul, my ex, for getting me in this situation. I was annoyed at my fuckin' mom for leaving, and my dad for letting her go. There was so much I had to be heated about, and I couldn't find the worst to articulate the emotions I was feeling, and it was more that frustrating.

And then he pulled me forward, throwing me off-balance a little, and jus' hugged me.

He jus' hugged me, and it was like he was my protection.

He shoved away the anger, the pain, the regret, the guilt, the shame and brought in some other, unfamiliar sensation that liquefied my organs and turned me into mushy, gooey pile of Camilla-like mess. What was fuckin' wrong with me?

I was equal parts ready to roll over and jus' let him comfort me, as I was ready to hook him once in the temple for even touching me without my consent.

He sighed, his one hand weaving through my hair to keep me settled, and the other settling on my hip, and said, after a moment of silence, "It's gonna be fine, Darlin', stop worryin' that pretty little head of yours, and jus' let it go."

I opened my mouth to argue, and he repeated, more urgently than before, his eyes flashing with a strange emotion, and his aura amplifying somethin' fierce, "Let. Everythin'. Go."

And I did, without really knowin' why.

For those few moments that he held me, I let myself forget about how I was feelin' before. It was hard, but I did it. It was like floating on water; you know you'll be safe, physically, but there was always that mental fear of drowning. Sometimes you got a flick of water in your face, and you're ready to call it quits, but if you push on, you'll become a professional at what you do.

It was only when I had fully become comfortable in his arms that the bell shrilled, effectively breaking whatever trance he had over me, and I almost jumped out of his embrace, stammering, "I-I, well, I-I gotta go," and left.

Well, ran would be the best phrase to use, but whatever.