A/N:

How are y'all doing?

Title: Origins: Living in my Future

Author: MarieCarro

Beta: Alice's White Rabbit

Pre-reader: BitterHarpy and brierlynn03

Genre: Supernatural/Mystery

Rating: NC-17

Summary: Mary Alice Brandon had always been different. She seemed to know things that had yet to happen, and the people in town avoided her at all costs. But the cries of 'Witch' or whispers of 'Changeling' wasn't her biggest concern. Someone much closer to her than the townsfolk couldn't accept her differences, and it put her in life-threatening danger.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

CHAPTER 26

THURSDAY, MARCH 16th – SUNDAY, JUNE 25th 1950

The day had been long, and despite the week we'd had with half the family to get used to now constantly having other people around, having the last two return had proved to be more overwhelming than either Jasper or I could have anticipated.

It was definitely lovely, but having spent most of our lives in some form of solitude had naturally shaped us. Though our goal had been to find the family and become a part of it, we still needed to adjust and just process all the changes. Hence, why we took a walk around the property, just the two of us, simply enjoying the view and the forest scene around us.

"This place is so beautiful," I said.

Jasper nodded but didn't answer. His gaze was distant, his eyebrows slightly furrowed.

"You know I'm here for you," I reminded him. "Whatever's going on in your mind, just know that I'm with you, no matter what."

His responding smile was sad but sincere. "I know. I guess … hearin' all of them talk about their past, askin' me about mine, it brought up some bad memories."

I nodded, having already suspected that was the case. "Maria?"

"Yes. That whole period of my life was ..." He struggled with finding the right words and shook his head in frustration. "I don't know how to explain it. Maria always told me that I had darkness in me. That it was my natural instinct. That I was born a monster and destined to do monstrous things."

"That's not—"

He didn't allow me to interrupt. "She would chide me when I showed weakness or sympathy. Told me that it was simply a mask I put on to hide the real me. It took a long time to realize she was misleadin' me. Usin' me."

I turned him to face me. "She manipulated you into being what she wanted you to be."

A humorless smile twitched in the corner of his mouth. "I spent much of my time bein' convinced of that, but ..." He released a tense breath and looked away from me. "What if she was right all along?"

I blinked with a sinking feeling of dread landing in my stomach and tried to search out his eyes again, but he absolutely refused to comply with my silent request. "What do you mean? Where's this coming from? You've been nothing but extraordinary for months."

"Sometimes, it feels as if I'm just playin' a part. That the monster was who I truly was—who I truly am. Who I was always supposed to be." He bent his head down in shame, and for once, I was glad to be as short as I was because it meant he couldn't escape me when I placed myself right underneath his nose.

"You can't mean that," I said quietly, distraught over hearing the dark thoughts still occupying his mind. I thought I'd convinced him of the opposite a long time ago. "Why are you saying these things?"

"I want to see myself as a good man," he continued, lost in the storm raging inside and not really hearing me. "A man who would fit into that family, but what if it's merely wishful thinkin'? What if Maria was right?"

"No, Jasper, she wasn't," I said sharply, and he finally looked at me again. "I think you've always been a good man. Even as a human where you were merely a tragic product of your time and birthplace, but you wouldn't have these fears if you weren't good," I insisted, thinking about my earliest visions of him. "She manipulated you. Brainwashed you. Of course, she said whatever she could to use you. But I know you, Jasper Whitlock." I grabbed his shirt in my hands and held him close to me. "No matter what you've done in the past, in your heart, you're a good person."

He sighed. "I don't feel like one. Compared to Carlisle and Esme, I'm a joke."

I thought about what to say to convince him for a minute, then I remembered how he spared that boy, who was changed much too young, a torturous death. It was at that point that I'd known things were changing between him and his creator. "You know that young boy Maria turned too young?"

Jasper's eyes cautiously flashed to me, immediately wondering where I was heading with the example and most definitely hating that I knew about that particular event in his life.

"She wanted you to kill him in front of the others; make him an example for what happens when you don't obey her; to torture him. You went against her and gave him a quick death." I regretted the example when I saw he wasn't convinced and hurried to give him another one. "You allowed Peter to escape with Charlotte when you could have easily caught up with them. You've protected me at every turn. You've treated everyone in that house with kindness and sympathy," I continued, almost growing desperate. "You don't have to care, but you do. If that's not good, then I don't know what is."

He contemplated my words, seemingly speechless. Then, finally, he turned back to me. "Alice ..." He took my hand in both of his. "I don't deserve you."

"Don't say that," I said, almost angrily. "You deserve everything. You deserve the world."

He shook his head and tightened his hold on my hand. "No, Alice. You deserve the world, and I want to give it to you. But I don't know if I can."

I pulled my hands from his grip and cupped his face. "You've already done so much for me. You've changed your entire life … for me. I can never repay you."

We stared at each other in the moonlight, the energy between us raw and charged. He leaned down and closer, and I wrapped my arms around his neck. He kissed me softly, slowly, as if we were both in a dream world.

Then the kiss turned harder. Needier.

"Alice ..."

He held me tighter as if I was the only thing anchoring him to earth, lifting me off the ground. I tightened my hands over the fabric of his shirt, careful not to tear it, and moaned his name softly against his mouth, our kisses becoming greedier and much too urgent.

My name fell from his lips in a whisper one more time as he cupped the back of my neck, gently squeezing, and I shivered as our bodies pressed together.

We stayed like that, kissing under the night sky, for several minutes until we pulled apart, and he placed me back on my feet.

He gently caressed my cheek and planted one last kiss on my forehead. "Thank you, Alice. I don't know how I would do all this without you."

I giggled, happy to see the darkness had once again been successfully squashed for the moment. "You wouldn't have anyone to kiss for one thing."

"There's no one else in the world I want to kiss." His hand fell away from my cheek, and he looked away. "If you don't mind … can I have a few minutes to clear my head?"

"Of course," I agreed and turned back toward the house.

{=LMF=}

"I want to start a foundation for poor women who've been failed by our government. Especially those who've been chucked out on the streets if they've spent any amount of time in a mental institution."

"That's curiously specific," Carlisle said with Edward silently agreeing with him as he pulled out the books he kept on the family's finances.

Before we joined the family, I had always assumed Carlisle was the one in charge of the money and balancing the income with whatever expenditures they had. As it turned out, Edward had managed everything from the moment he and Carlisle returned to America from Europe on the grounds that he had been on the path of becoming a business lawyer—like his father—and numbers came naturally to him even as the legal jargon faded in his memory.

I nodded decidedly. "I used to donate my clothes whenever it was time for me to move. I know you've done the same in the past."

"We have, yes."

"In the 30s, there was a poorhouse not far from where I resided that I frequently provided with clothes. There was something about the women there that struck me with familiarity, and when the volunteers let me know many of them had been subjected to harsh treatments at these so-called 'hospitals', it made me wonder if perhaps that's where I was when I was changed."

I shrugged when the men looked at me in confusion.

"It would make sense, considering the state I was in when I woke up." I met Edward's eyes. "You've seen what I saw in the mirror of that department store—the dirty shift and my shaggy hair. It must've been either that or a prison."

He didn't argue with me and turned back to the books, flipping it open to the last page where he had noted down the large add-on to the finances I had provided with my stock investments. My returns had always climbed steadily with only a necessary loss here and there, and my capital had almost doubled the family's.

"I agree with you that our society has a tendency to shun those most in need of help," Carlisle said with a soft, sympathetic grimace. "Those institutions rarely treat their patients with the care they deserve. I'd even dare to say they haven't gotten exceptionally better than they were during my time in England when they did nothing more than lock people in dank cells and treat them worse than criminals and animals." He sighed and sadly shook his head. "What exactly did you have in mind?"

"To start with, a foundation where we provide these women with opportunities to better their situations. We could connect it to a charity to give them food, clothes, and even some money. Then, in the future, a shelter so they know they always have somewhere to go."

"That sounds wonderful, Alice," Esme said from the open door, and all three of us turned to her. "God knows I could've used such a place when I ran from Charles, and I'm sure countless other women in the same situation still do."

"You should have volunteer doctors then, too," Rosalie pointed out as she appeared behind Esme. "I may have been Royce's last, but I certainly wasn't his first. You said you treated some of them yourself, Carlisle."

He nodded. "I did. And you're right. We could start with the foundation, and then build onto that until we've created a sanctuary for women from all walks of life. It would need expert staff and volunteers in all kinds of educational fields." He directed his eyes at me. "This is a great idea, Alice. I'm all for it, and I believe the three of you are best suited to develop it. It'll most definitely take years before it'll reach a sustainable level, but I believe it's something this society is in desperate need of."

Rosalie, Esme, and I exchanged pleased looks, but before we could surrender ourselves to start planning, Emmett strode into the study with Jasper in tow and threw today's newspaper down onto Carlisle's desk.

It was clear it wasn't a small column he wanted us to read because the headline in big, bold, black letters was hard to miss.

Red Korea Declares War on South; 60,000 Attack U.S.-Backed Border

"A war in Korea means a new draft," Emmett said and looked at Rosalie, whose expression immediately soured, knowing we'd have to move from Philadelphia sooner than what had first been expected.

"Only if we get involved, which this claims we won't yet," Carlisle said in an attempt to soothe everyone.

"The State Department claims our military won't take direct action, but that's what they've said about every war we've fought in since America became an independent nation," Jasper said, and everyone turned to him, which caused him to shrug. "I like reading military history. And believe me, America will take action if history is anythin' to go on."

I did a quick scan of the indisputable future and saw, to my dismay, that he was right. "It's true. The draft has already begun in some states."

"So what does this mean?" Rosalie asked. "We just left Alaska. We can't go back there."

"No, we can't. Even if we avoid Fairbanks, it's too risky to return to a place we left less than three years ago. It may be large in size, but rumors travel surprisingly fast in sparsely occupied areas. We'll have to leave U.S. soil altogether," Carlisle mused.

"Europe then?" Edward asked.

"I'm afraid I'm not quite ready to travel that kind of distance trapped with humans on a boat or in that metal contraption called an airplane," Jasper pointed out, and Carlisle hummed in agreement.

"That's true, and we can't risk crossing your creator's territory in Mexico to visit our new friends in the Amazon." He took a deep breath, and then slowly released it. "That leaves us with Canada."

Rosalie let out a frustrated groan, and Edward dragged his hands over his face in obvious agitation. "Perfect," she said. "Emmett and I just graduated, and now we have to start all over again?"

Carlisle shook his head. "No, I wouldn't force you to do that. This would only be temporary, so I'd recommend you get jobs instead, and Edward"—Edward looked at him—"aim for university classes this time. If only to keep your own sanity."

"Sure," he said, his tone tired. "Sounds like a plan."

"Is school really that bad?" I asked them all. The art class I'd taken once couldn't really be called going to school, so I had no memory of ever attending a high school, much less graduating from one.

Edward glanced at me from the corner of his eye. "Not the first couple of times, but continuous matriculation does get tedious after a while, and the degrees feel more like decoration than something you can actually use."

"Wow," I said and giggled. "You really are a little ray of sunshine, aren't you?"

My comment caused everyone to break and let out an involuntary laugh, but Edward just rolled his eyes.

"You'll see for yourself eventually," he said quietly.

"Sure," I said, humoring him. "Of course, I will."

A/N:

It wasn't until I wrote this chapter that I realized all the girls ended up where they ended up as a direct or indirect result of a man's abuse.

The men on the other hand … hrm … well, Carlisle wanted to make his strict Anglican pastor of a father proud, but there was no indication of abuse, Jasper's past before the civil war is never even mentioned in canon, Edward had parents who, yes, put pressure on him, but there was no abuse, and Emmett had a large loving family. A family he gladly helped after he was changed.

But the girls?

Yeah, you know their stories. Abusive husband and a family who doesn't help her (Esme), abusive father and stepmother who send her to an asylum (Alice), emotionally distant parents and an abusive fiance who gang raped her and left her for dead (Rosalie)

Why are the girls' backstories so damn dark compared to the guys?

Just a thought I had while writing this chapter.

Until tomorrow,

Stay Awesome!