Alec
Never judge a book by its cover. A classic cliché.
Although, Jane was judged by her cover constantly. And clearly she was aware of this. All others feared her company and none were never hesitant to call her wicked.
I willingly stand beside her nonetheless, because I knew better. The pain she projects onto her victims was the very pain she that was currently harbored deep within herself up till this age (just as I cut off all senses.)
At times when we'll be sitting alone and silent underneath the shadows, recuperating from a hunt, the memories of flames licking at our skin from so long ago still resurface for us. I am the only person who finally realized each time she switched her power on, Jane was trying to shed a layer of that pain from herself. That distant whistling sounds affect her power possessed was in reality, the lingering echo of her bloodcurdling screams of anguish and rage.
It may seem egotistical and vile on my part, to those who could not understand—but I would forever have Jane continue her torture treatments since I had failed to save her from the stake myself in the end, even if I had tried my best to.
And I made it up to Jane by letting her use that lethal gift all to her broken, vengeful heart's content. As her twin and enteral companion, I would rather have Volturi victims feel her burning agony in place of me totally losing her to it down the road.
Because even though she only smiled in dark bloodthirsty amusement now...at least my sister smiled.