Disclaimer: S. Myer owns all, but what I wouldn't give for a Jasper of my very own-sigh.
A/N- Thank you to everyone that read, reviewed, alerted or favorited Winter's Night. I can't begin to tell you how personal this story is to me, or how much it means to me, and to be able to finally put it down after so long is such a relief. I hope you all continue to read, and hopefully enjoy, it.
ETA: I've received a few PMs and reviews from readers who had read this at work and ended up teary...so this chapter (entire story?) might not be SFW.
Big thanks to OnTheTurningAway for her beta.
This fic wouldn't be here without Dannie, who replied to my endless phone calls and text messages about this chapter, giving me support as well as telling me when to stfu and stop worrying.
"**~~**"
If on a winter's night we weren't so fragile…
"**~~**"
"…there," she apparently repeated, placing a hand on my jean-covered knee for attention. Jumping at her touch, I pulled one of the ear buds out while simultaneously pausing my iPhone.
"Huh?"
"We're almost there," she said again, her voice quiet and tired. "About another twenty minutes."
I nodded and popped the ear bud back in, leaning my head back against the seat of the old Camry, staring out the window at…absolutely nothing.
Trees, houses, cars, and signs all passed by at a blinding pace and meant nothing. Well, they did mean that I was one more house, car, or tree closer to Seattle, closer to seeing him. Scrolling through my Edward playlist, I selected "Something" and concentrated on George's soothing voice instead of the ones screaming in my head.
I refused to listen to those voices; I refused to believe for one second that they could be right.
That Edward might be gone.
'Something in the way he moves…'
It had been something in the way he moved…and talked, and looked, and touched.
With Edward it had been everything, and something I had never felt before.
A bit less than a year before I had moved to Forks from Texas, I had figured out I was gay. My friend Peter and I had been playing a pickup game of football and just after I had made an incredible catch, he tackled me, pinning me to the ground with his solid weight as he tried to wrestle the ball from my grip, his body grinding and moving against mine. As wonderful as it had felt, I relinquished the ball to him when I felt my cock twitch and begin to harden.
That wasn't supposed to happen, not with a boy on top of you anyway. I was young, but I knew enough to know that it wasn't right. Only it turned out it was right, at least for me. After that, I began to experiment when I masturbated, picturing boys in all kinds of compromising positions, dressed and undressed, and I would come hard, harder than I'd ever come before.
Even though I had bitched and moaned to my parents about having to move, warning them about how much I was going to hate the people, the weather, the school, just fucking everything, the second I walked into the school and saw him, all weird fucked up red hair and greener than green eyes, I stopped complaining. In fact, when I had walked into biology and saw the empty seat next to him, not only did I stop complaining, but I jumped for fucking joy.
Well, on the inside anyway.
On the outside, I had kept my cool, sat down, and nodded toward him with a low, drawled out 'hey'. He returned the 'hey' and upped it with a 'new here?'
Physically, he did it for me in every way; my heart raced, halted, or skipped, my cock hardened and my cheeks flushed whenever he was near, or flashed me one of his dazzling, crooked grins. It didn't matter if he was talking to me or just near me, alone with me or in a crowd, my body always reacted the same way. There were definitely moments of embarrassment, especially once he realized he had such an effect on me. As I got know to Edward better, I realized it wasn't just his body that I was attracted to, but rather everything else about him as well; the way he ran his hand through his hair when he was nervous, the way he always kissed his mother goodnight, or the way he always seemed to know just what I needed to hear.
It wasn't just something, it was truly everything.
'Somewhere in his smile he knows, that I don't need no other lover…'
I smiled to myself because it was true and he fucking knew it. I knew that for me, there would never be another. No one would ever touch my life, or own my heart, the way he did.
On Sunday mornings his parents would go out for an early brunch, leaving Edward and I alone. After I had abandoned the air mattress the night before for the comfort and warmth of his embrace, we would wake up, lazy and languid in each other's arms, our limbs tangled together. Pushing my bed-head hair from my face, his honey-tinged voice would whisper the sweetest words, always making them sound so fucking dirty that my already hard cock would twitch. Sometimes he would take my morning wood into his hands while I took his and we would jerk each other off. Other times, we would lay side by side, our eyes locked as we masturbated together. He knew what it took to get me off, what touch, what words, what look, and he never failed to do it to me in record time. Afterward, he would lie on top of me, my cum-covered hand still weakly gripping my cock, his smile telling me he knew, he knew I was forever his.
And he had been so fucking right.
It hadn't always been like that of course.
In fact, Edward had been dating Bella Swan for five months when I first met him. I admit my heart sank a bit when I first met Bella, but I noticed he shied away from her touch when she went to move his hair from his forehead. Over the next few weeks I began to study them, specifically him, more closely. He seemed to avoid physical contact with her, but would give her smiles and winks. He never leaned toward her, never whispered in her ear, or made any sexual innuendos. Hell, he didn't even hold her hand. Had he not introduced her as his girlfriend, I would have put her into the category of platonic friend.
But I didn't automatically jump to the idea that Edward was gay, far from it actually. I had assumed he was shy, or against public displays of affection, but that didn't mean that in private he wasn't all up in her girly parts.
Regardless of telling myself not to, I held out a small bit of hope that maybe, just maybe, Edward would be like me, like that.
I hadn't come out to anyone. Being gay scared me, and being gay in Texas had scared the shit out of me, so I stayed in the closet with the door locked and barricaded. While Forks might have been more accepting, I still didn't chance it. I had made a few friends and was doing well in school, I wasn't about to trash it all by coming out.
About a month after I had moved there, Bella had gone with her friends for a girls' night out and Edward had called me, bored. Minutes later, he was in my room and I was showing him the joys of World of Warcraft. We had sat at my desk, me in my computer chair, him in the one we had borrowed from the den, and while I was attempting to show him my character and realm, I found myself able to only concentrate on one thing.
How fucking good he smelled.
It wasn't perfume or aftershave or some shit, it was just him; all woodsy, pine and fresh grass mixed with a masculine musk. He would lean toward me, pointing at the monitor to ask a question, and all I could do was inhale deeply.
Quirking a brow at me, he asked in a sympathetic voice, "Do you have asthma?"
Laughing, I shook my head at his ironic question. Ironic because not only did I not have asthma, but I jogged about four miles every morning.
Later that night, he lay on a sleeping bag on the floor next to my bed in nothing but cotton pajama pants with little reindeers on them, and asked me questions about Texas and my friends there. I tried my best to answer him, but I couldn't help but stare at his bare chest and enjoy the fact that my cock was tingling.
More than fucking tingling, it was getting hard. Maybe not poke-your-eye-out, rock hard, but definitely not just hanging-with-my-friend-soft either.
Suspicious at my difficulty answering his simple questions, he had watched me with those intense green eyes and when he glanced down my body, I swear he'd seen my growing erection even under the blanket and pajamas.
After he had fallen asleep, soft, wispy breaths coming steadily from him, I let my hand sneak under my pants to my still semi-hard cock and began to stroke it, feeling myself growing harder by the passing of each image of Edward behind my eyes. When he sighed next to me, my cock twitched and hardened even more. I stroked hard and fast, containing the moans I would have normally released. My hips thrust into my hand, fucking it at will until I felt my balls tighten and then I reached next to me, grabbing a tissue from my table, covering the head of my cock just as it released cum in short, angry bursts. Sighing, I cleaned up and put the tissue in the drawer, opening it slowly so it didn't squeak, and then rolled over onto my side, turning my back to Edward. My breaths were still short, the last sensations of my orgasm still traveling through me, my mind wracked with guilt and shame.
I had just done the worst thing ever.
I had just masturbated to the sounds of my straight best friend while pictures of him naked had flashed through my imagination like my own little personal Edward porn show.
As I finally fell asleep, I wondered if he had ever done that before.
After that night, I was more confused than ever about my feelings toward Edward. Part me insisted I let things be, remain his friend and enjoy his company. But then I would lie in bed before school and jerk off to thoughts of Edward, only to feel guilt ridden afterwards.
It didn't stop me though.
The months passed and Edward and I had remained status fucking quo.
Until one fateful day the summer between our sophomore and junior years when…
"We're here," she said loud enough for me to hear her over Paul's singing. Focusing my eyes, I saw the enormous building as we pulled around the circular drive in front, stopping near two men in black jackets. "Valet workers," she answered before I thought to ask. I hadn't been doing much thinking, in fact, I had only one thought since she had called me about eight hours before.
Please let him be okay.
Getting out, I looked up at the building, a modern design with huge arcing ground level lined with curved windows. There was a second level with graduated sections, each covered with a large mirrored window. It definitely did not look like a hospital. I was no stranger to hospitals, my mother and Edward's father both worked at Forks Hospital and I had been there countless times, but it had been to see one of them, never for something like this.
Waiting by my mother's side while she spoke with someone at the information desk, I saw her mouth moving but even though my headphones weren't in, I couldn't hear a word she said. All I could hear was the thumping of my heart forcing the blood through my veins in a mad rush. Everything else was white noise, mumbles and murmurs, nothing definite, no actual words.
I was both acutely aware and numb at the same time. While I felt the prickling of my skin from the slight breeze when someone walked by, each worried beat of my heart, each muscle that tensed in me, I was only vaguely aware of those around me, their movements and words. It took great concentration and focus for the words to shift through my haze enough to comprehend them.
Silently, I followed my mother as she navigated us to a set of elevators, and after getting on, I saw her push the button for the fourth floor. When the doors opened, we stepped off and her hand was on my wrist, stopping me. For the first time since she had come home, I looked at her, really looked at her. Her eyes were bloodshot from crying, although I hadn't remembered seeing her cry, and there were dark circles under them from lack of sleep. Briefly, I wondered if I looked the same way. I hadn't even looked in a mirror before I'd left, but I didn't care what I looked like.
After she had called me, I had stayed awake. Unable to focus on anything, I'd wandered aimlessly around the empty house. From room to room, I paced through the silence, my thoughts racing with images that horrified me. By the time my parents had walked through the door, I was a trembling mess, my nerves shot to hell, but I was dressed and ready to go. When she had said she needed to change clothes before we left, I complained, muttering under my breath.
Didn't she understand, I didn't have time, I had to leave, I had to get to him.
"Wait," she said and then took a deep breath, her tiny fingers surprisingly strong around my wrist. "I don't know many details yet, but I know…I know it's bad. I told you some last night but he was due to have surgery this morning and I don't know the results yet. I promise to try to find out what I can, but it might be confusing down there. There might be a lot of family and friends, all wanting answers, okay?"
I nodded, shifting my weight a little and looking everywhere but at her. I knew she was trying to prepare me for what I might see but all she did was scare the shit out of me.
She continued, "It's not going to be pretty. It was bad, there will be cuts, bruises. He might not look much like Edward."
Again, I nodded. I didn't care what he looked like. I just wanted to see him, to verify he was alive.
"Okay, let's go," she said, shaking her head a bit before leading me down a hall to our left. I saw signs on the walls for ORs, recovery, and the intensive care unit, which was where we were headed. As we passed nurses and rooms, she began speaking again. "Carlisle, Esme and Alice are all here. I think his grandparents are on their way from Chicago."
"Is he okay?" I asked, my voice sounding distant and slightly hoarse. There was a slight misstep in her walk and she hesitated before replying. My heart lurched, the confines of my chest no longer able to contain the ache I felt.
"It doesn't look good,' she answered honestly.
So far all I knew was that he was alive and in critical condition. We turned a few more corners and I felt sick to my stomach, bile rose in my throat with each step that brought us closer to Edward. I kept my head down, staring at my mother's heels as they clacked on the tiled floor, refusing to acknowledge the scene around me.
"The Volvo was supposed to keep him safe, Carlisle! Safe! What the hell happened?" a frantic voice begged to know.
I recognized the voice and looked up to see Mrs. Cullen and Dr. Cullen standing a few doors down, her tiny fists banging on his chest as she stared up at him with a tear streaked face. She was sobbing, her normally perfect hair was a tangled mess and her clothes were wrinkled.
The Volvo.
It had been Edward's pride and joy. His parents had given it to him shortly after he had turned sixteen and gotten his license. It wasn't new, far from it actually, but they had purchased a new one for themselves and thought it would keep Edward safe. He didn't care how uncool a car it was, it was all his and he was fucking proud of it.
The day he had gotten it, he called me immediately, raving about all the features, but always focusing on the sound system and how great The Beatles would sound on it. The next morning he showed up at my house before school. Hearing him beep his horn, I ran down the stairs with my backpack on and went out the door to greet him. Standing proudly beside the shiny silver Volvo, his arms out wide, he beamed a crooked grin at me. I shook my head, making no attempt to hide my smile, and reached out to grab his shirt. We were almost the same height, he was only an inch shorter than me, and our lips met easily, effortlessly in our good morning kiss. My day never officially started until his lips met mine. Chaste, deep, tongue or not, it didn't matter, I just needed his touch. Weaving his fingers into my still damp hair, he moaned into the kiss and my cock began to harden at the sound. His lithe body was firm and eager beneath my hands, muscles rippling and flexing under cotton with each subtle movement. With one hand wrapped around his neck, I pushed him against his car with a gentle thud and thrust into him once before breaking the kiss.
"Don't tease me, baby," I warned him, pressing my hips to his, "or you will have to deal with this later."
"Is that a promise?" he said, wiggling his eyebrows at me and dropping his hands to my ass for a grope.
"Mmmm, most definitely."
"I don't work today, do you have practice?" he asked between kisses, his lips softly mumbling against mine.
"No, but I have a meet."
He sighed sadly.
"Home or away?"
"Home."
His hands squeezed my ass again and he jerked his hips forward. "I love home meets. I love being able to watch you run, all sweaty and panting, just how I like you."
"Perv," I teased.
"You love this perv."
"I do," I agreed completely.
He released me with one last kiss. "But now we must go learn and get smart," he joked as he pushed me away and went to the driver's side. "So what do you think of my baby?"
I opened the door and climbed in. "Edward, I've been in this car a thousand times."
"Well, yeah, but that was when it was my parent's car. It's much cooler now that it's mine," he said as he put the key in. Then he looked at me and began to go over the features in great detail. Smiling, I listened to him, watching his face get all animated and excited. "And listen," he said as he hit play on the CD player. The Beatles came through the speakers. "Sounds great, doesn't it?" he asked, positively giddy. "Buckle up, Jasper."
I agreed and leaned over, kissing him on the cheek. "You're so fucking adorable."
Blushing, he rolled his eyes and then pulled out of my driveway with "I Want You" playing so loudly my neighbors could hear it.
"Esme," I heard my mother say as Mrs. Cullen turned and headed toward us, falling into my mother's open arms. "I'm so sorry," my mother said, rubbing a hand up and down Mrs. Cullen's back until she eventually pulled away, wiping a few stray tears. "Any updates?"
Edward's mother shook her head and then turned to me. Not sure what to do, I gave her a weak smile and then imitated my mother and opened my arms. She returned my hug, her embrace much stronger than I would have expected. Clenching my eyes, I tried to think of something to say, something comforting and soothing, but all I could think of was 'I love him'. Not exactly what she would have been expecting to hear, at least not the way I meant it.
Instead, I said nothing and just held her.
"Thanks for coming," she said as she released me. Reaching up she brushed my hair off my face, tucking it behind my ear, her movements much like her son's the last time I had seen him. "He'd be happy to know you're here."
Turning, she led us down the hall to where Dr. Cullen stood, his face as tired and worn as his wife's. Alice was next to him, her tiny frame dwarfed by his. There was so much of my Edward in her, their hair color was nothing alike, but like his, hers stuck out in almost every direction. While Edward's hair stuck up because it was unruly, or because my fingers had traveled through it one too many times, Alice's was purposely styled to defy gravity. Her eyes were the same brilliant green and she shared his straight nose and high cheek bones. It was almost painful to look at her unmarred, perfect features and see the strong resemblance to Edward.
Hugs and worried words were exchanged again. Dr. Cullen let us know that Edward was still in surgery and that they had run into some complications. Swallowing at his grim words, I looked down at the floor and willed myself to keep my emotions in check. Not letting anyone at that hospital know that Edward was so much more to me than my best friend was going to be the hardest thing I had ever done. It was hard enough to hide it every day, to not touch him as casually in public as I did in private. It was a constant struggle, one that ran so deep it had become part of me. With time I had learned to resist the unwavering urges to run my fingers through his silky hair, or caress his cheek when he was stressed, or even just sit too closely to him at the lunch table. He and I had become so adapt at keeping our relationship to friend status in public that sometimes even I forgot we were more. But then he would look at me, even in a crowded cafeteria or sitting in the stands at a track meet, his eyes would somehow find mine. There was no mistaking the hungry glint in his eyes as that of a best friend.
It was that of a lover, a soul mate.
But harder than suppressing my urge to touch him would be masking my worry for him that obviously went far and above that of a friend, even as close as we were. How was I supposed to not let them know that part of me was in that OR, and if he didn't come out of it, well, fuck, then neither did I.
"Jasper?" my mother put her hand on my arm and my head jerked up. "I said, why don't we go sit down in the waiting room." Weakly, I nodded and followed them to a private waiting room a few doors down, filled with uncomfortable, non-descript plastic chairs and one short couch that probably pulled out into an even more uncomfortable bed. A television hung on the wall and a few tables with magazines were scattered between the chairs. Dr. Cullen shut the door behind us, closing out the sound of the outside world, but not the sights. The windows allowed a perfect view of the hallway.
Slumping into a chair, I pulled out my iPhone and put my buds back into my ears. After clicking play, I began to hear Lennon's voice tell me that nothing's gonna change my world.
That was just it. My world had changed because of the beautiful boy whose life was now in the hands of surgeons. They didn't know him; he was nothing but another patient to them, nothing but another notch in the belt toward their God complex.
They didn't know that he was everything to me.
They didn't know that he snorted when he laughed too hard.
They didn't know that he always brought me a sub from work.
They didn't know that he had worked his ass off to earn his 'A' in AP Chemistry.
They didn't know that he was in love with a boy who meant everything in the world to him.
Outside the room, the universe continued, changing every second, every second that Edward walked the line between life and death, people went on with their lives; patients came and left, visitors hugged relatives, doctors gave orders.
I hated them all. I hated how they got to smile and hug and love while I sat there wondering if Edward would ever do any of those things again.
Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and concentrated on another hallway many miles away.
I slammed the locker closed and he was there. Jumping, I shook my head. "Jesus, Cullen, you scared the shit out of me," I said, slinging my backpack over my shoulder. Glancing around, he gave me a quick wink.
"Sorry, love," he whispered. "Just wanted to say hey."
"Hey," I said followed by a contented sigh. Looking down both directions of the hall, I saw it was empty and I pushed him against the locker, placing a knee between his thighs.
"Damn," he whispered, his head falling back against the lockers with a bang as my lips went to my favorite spot, the sensitive flesh of his neck right above the collar of his tee shirt. I quickly nibbled up to his earlobe where I let out a long, wet breath.
"I love how you taste," I murmured before standing up straight and adjusting my suddenly tight jeans. He growled and wrapped his hand around my neck, pulling my lips to his for a quick kiss. It was risky, we both knew it, but sometimes we chanced it anyway. Part of me wondered if he didn't want to get caught, to be forced out instead of us having to decide the right time.
"Likewise," he smiled as he broke the kiss. "See you in chem?"
"Yep. Be safe, baby."
"See ya soon, love," he replied, already heading down the hall to his class, breaking into a run when he realized he was going to be late. Watching his long legs loping down the hall did nothing to ease my growing erection.
Edward was a natural athlete, his body sinewy and lean, conditioned from years of playing sports and swimming in his parent's pool. While he excelled at basketball, he could hold his own at just about anything he tried. I had tried several times to convince him to join the track team with me, but he insisted that basketball was his sport. He did agreed to start jogging with me every morning, Meeting me at my house at five, we would run a few miles at a moderate pace, his stride easily matching my experienced one. We usually ran in silence, the cadence of our breaths and the steady pounding of our feet the only sounds. In our own world, we could sometimes jog so close that our sweaty arms would graze. Even with our eyes staring straight ahead, we were keenly aware of each other and the electricity that hummed and mingled around us.
Startled when I felt the hand on my knee, I opened my eyes and found my mother giving me a weak smile.
"Here," she said, handing me some white tissues. "Don't be afraid to let it out, honey."
Confused, I took the tissues and clutched them in my hand. When I looked down at my iPhone to change songs, I saw drops of water on the screen. Hesitantly I reached up and felt my cheeks, surprised when I felt dampness. How long had I been crying? Glancing up, I saw Alice in a chair similar to mine, her own face marked with tears, her arms wrapped around her legs while she rested her chin on her knees. I should have been embarrassed that I had cried in front of her and Edward's parents, but I wasn't. When she saw me watching her, she gave me a small, encouraging smile. I tried to return it, I tried to force the corner of my lips up but they just wouldn't work.
Just then there was a knock and the door opened to reveal a doctor dressed literally head to foot in blue scrubs, a mask hanging loosely around his neck.
"Dr. Cullen?" he asked, holding out his hand as Dr. Cullen stood and greeted the surgeon. Pulling my headphones out, I took a deep breath.
This was it. My life was either going to be okay or end in the next few seconds.
After glancing at us, the surgeon asked if it was okay to speak in front of us, and Dr. Cullen nodded and said, 'they are like family.'
Taking the surgical cap off his head, the doctor walked to a chair and sat down. "Edward is out of surgery and in recovery. There were a few complications, but we were able to take care of those. The injury was more severe than we first thought…"
He kept talking but I had heard what I needed to hear.
Edward had survived.
I began to wonder; what would I say when I saw him, should I joke about the accident and not getting my sub, or should I be more serious and sympathetic? I knew I would want to touch him and hold him but I was pretty sure his parents might think that was odd if I were to hold his hand. In my muted world, I saw Mrs. Cullen burst into tears, violently shaking her head back and forth. Alice remained unchanged except for the increased amount of tears that ran down her face.
Confused, I looked to my mother and saw her run her hand through her hair, tears steadily streaming down her cheeks.
What the fuck had I missed?
I kept telling myself to focus, to listen, but all I heard was what sounded like Charlie Brown's teacher. I cleared my head just in time to hear the surgeon say, "I'm so sorry."
After patting Dr. Cullen's shoulder, he stood and walked out, closing the door behind him. Suddenly, Dr. Cullen, the strongest, smartest man I knew, buried his face in his hands, his sobs loud and furious.
"Mom?" I murmured uncertainly, my heart racing. Perhaps my thoughts on Edward being okay were premature. "What's wrong?"
She didn't answer; instead she went to Mrs. Cullen's side and took her into her arms. "It'll be okay, Esme, ssshhh," she comforted her. Glancing back and forth between my mother, Mrs. Cullen and Dr. Cullen, I grew more afraid by the second. I felt my own cheeks dampen again and I didn't even know why, all I knew was something was very fucking seriously wrong.
"Dr. Cullen?" I asked in a shaky voice when my mother had failed to respond. Dabbing his eyes, he looked up at me. "What's wrong with Edward?"
Please, please, please…
He moved to next to me, placing on gentle hand on my knee.
"Jasper," he began, taking a deep breath. "Edward was in a head on collision. The force of the accident caused an extension fracture near his L1-"
"Seatbelt…" I blurted out without thinking, and then smiled, relieved at my revelation. Everything would be fine, Edward would be fine, he always, always, wore his seatbelt.
After a few confused seconds, he caught on to what I was saying. "Yes, he had his seatbelt on. But being hit head on snapped his upper body forward while keeping his lower body contained. While the seatbelt kept him from being thrown from the car, it also partially caused his injury."
My hope diminished. I nodded to him as though I understood what he had said, and he continued with the diagnosis.
"At the scene they put him in a collar and on a backboard, but his SCI was confirmed by a CT scan, MRI and X-ray they did as soon as he arrived. They put him on Methylprecnisolone, which helped the swelling, but the ligaments and tendons around the fracture were torn, giving him no support. In order to try to stabilize his spine, they did surgery to insert a plate and screws. When they got in there, they realized it was more extensive then they first thought, and they found hairline fractures further up his spine…"
I saw his mouth moving as he spoke to me, I even heard the words he said, but they made no sense to me. Why was Edward's mother crying? I glanced over at her wrapped in my mother's embrace as they consoled each other.
"…collapsed lung, fractured ribs, concussion, lots of lacerations and contusions. The SCI is their major concern, we won't know for sure the extent of the damage until he is alert and able to complete a few tests…."
Tests…alert…fractures…words I recognized but they meant nothing mixed with what else he had said. When he paused to take a breath and wipe his face, I interrupted.
"But Dr. Cullen, what does all that mean? I don't understand," I whispered desperately.
Please, tell me.
Over Dr. Cullen's shoulder, my mother looked at me with grief in her eyes. I could see she wanted to let Mrs. Cullen go and move to comfort me. Why would she need to comfort me?
Edward was okay.
"Jasper, Edward is…" Dr. Cullen started, and then let out a sob, as if saying whatever it was for the first time somehow made it more real.
I began shaking my head and my hands went to my hair, fisting it. Clenching my eyes, I refused to listen.
"No…no…no…he's okay…has to be…okay…"
I felt strong hands on my wrists as Dr. Cullen grabbed them and pulled them from my hair. When he held them on my lap, I opened my eyes and saw strands of long blond hair weaving through my fingers.
"Jasper, listen to me," his voice had changed from worried father to clinical doctor. He was calm and confident, far different than he had been only seconds before.
If I closed my eyes, refused to hear, then it couldn't be true. I saw him glance over his shoulder at my mother, she had apparently asked him something and he told her he had it under control. Biting my bottom lip, I looked pleadingly at her.
Help me.
A tangy, bitter taste coated my tongue and I reflexively swallowed it as I heard Dr. Cullen say 'Damn, it, Jasper…' but I didn't understand what I had done wrong. Then there was a tissue being pressed against my lip, his other hand was clasping my shoulder.
"Keep this on it," he instructed. He brought my hand up to the tissues to replace his hand with mine. When I felt the damp tissue against my fingers, I pulled it away and saw the crimson circle spreading through the thin fibers. Licking my lip, I felt the gash my own teeth had created.
It should have hurt, or stung, or something, but I felt nothing.
My mother let Mrs. Cullen go and moved next to me, her hand on mine in my lap. I wondered if she could feel the hairs in my hand.
"It's okay, Jasper," she told me, but her voice said otherwise; it said 'be scared, this is horrible'. It was full of sadness.
"Dr. Cullen?" I whispered hoarsely.
Hanging his head for a long minute, he gathered some courage, and then gathered more when he glanced at Mrs. Cullen's tear-streaked face. I had never seen him look so…tired. Beyond fucking exhausted, he had aged years in one night.
"Jasper, son, Edward is …" another deep breath, "Edward is paralyzed from the waist down."
Blinking, I stared at him, my eyes going from the lips that had said the words to his eyes to find the truth.
It was there.
My Edward, my beautiful, strong boy was paralyzed.
I had only one thought.
"No."
"**~~**
Thanks for reading~
So…yeah. I did mention angsty and a bumpy ride, right? I've had a few readers ask if this will be as angsty as S&S/L&F, my answer…no, it will be worse.
Dannie and I are excited to announce round two of The Slash awards! Nominations are accepted until August 22, so pick out your favorite slash kiss, ILY, Domsper, Inkward etc. Details are here http:/ theslashawards DOT blogspot DOT com - Follow us on twitter theslashawards
I've added links to the banners for L&F, M&A, Winter's Night and S&S to my profile.