JPOV
I hadn't even realized I'd fallen asleep until I woke with a jolt at the sound of Edward's phone ringing in his pocket.
"Shit," he murmured, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and reaching for his phone.
Reluctantly, I untangled myself from him on the bed as I sat up and glanced at the clock on my bedside table which read 5:46 PM. Crap, Edward's parents were probably wondering where the hell he was.
"Hey Mom," I heard him answer groggily as he sat up. "Yeah, I'm just at Jasper's... I know, I'm sorry, there was a situation... I'll explain when I get home." I gave Edward's leg a squeeze and stood up to walk to the bathroom to give him some privacy.
I leaned against the bathroom counter and looked into the mirror as I yawned. My body felt like I'd run a marathon and the reflection in the mirror didn't look much better. I had deep circles under my bloodshot eyes, and my throat felt raw. I vaguely remember screaming, but honestly, most of today felt like a complete blur. I splashed water on my face to help wake up a little and went back to my room where Edward was sitting on the edge of the bed. I stood in front of him and rested my hands on his shoulders as he wrapped his arms around my legs.
"Everything alright?" I asked, running my fingers through his unruly hair.
"Yeah, Mom was just wondering where I'd gotten to. How are you feeling?"
"Like warmed-up garbage."
"Do you want me to stay?" Edward asked, his fingers brushing over my back.
"You don't have to, I'm sure Emmett will be home soon," I didn't want to burden Edward any more than I already had today.
"Jasper, I can stay, I don't want you to be alone," he gently pulled me down towards the bed until I was pretty much sitting in his lap, his arms wrapped around my waist.
"I'll be fine, I'm probably just going to take a shower and go back to bed anyway."
"Jazz, you need to eat," Edward admonished, looking at me sternly.
"Alright, Mom," I rolled my eyes and kissed his forehead.
He poked my ribs in response as we stood up and made our way down the stairs. I slumped into a chair at the dining table, and Edward took the seat across from me, reaching for my hands over the table.
"I don't want to talk about it," I intercepted Edward as he opened his mouth to speak and he frowned.
"Jasper-"
"I'm serious, Ed, I really don't want to talk about it. I just want to forget about the whole thing." I dropped my eyes to our joined hands on the table as I fidgeted with his fingers.
"Fine, but do you really think those assholes will just leave you alone if you do nothing?" Edward looked at me empathetically across the table.
"What exactly do you want me to do? Go tattle and put an even bigger target on my head?"
Edward sighed and leaned back in his chair, "I don't know, it just pisses me off to think of them getting away with it."
"Could always sic Emmett on them," I smirk, thinking about my brother beating the dickheads to a pulp.
"As much as I'd love a front seat to that show, I don't think assault charges are really going to help anyone."
"Then it's pointless even discussing it," I said with a tone of finality, which made Edward frown again, but he didn't push the issue any further.
"Are you sure you don't want me to stay?" he asked, thankfully changing the subject.
"Nah, I'm fine, really. You should get home before your mom stresses anymore."
Edward sighed and stood up from the table, and I moved to follow him. He pulled me into his embrace as we stood by the front door, and I wrapped my arms around his waist.
"Thank you," I murmured against his shoulder, "Y'know, for everything."
Edward squeezed me tighter and I felt him press a kiss against my neck, "You don't have to thank me, I'll always be there for you," he replied softly.
We stood for a long moment, just holding each other, content in the safe haven we had between us.
"You should get going, it's already nearly dark," I said, reluctantly pulling away as I moved towards the door.
I walked Edward out to his car and retrieved my backpack from the backseat where I'd left it. He grabbed my hand as he sat in the driver's seat, pulling me toward him.
"Call me if you need me, okay?" he squeezed my hand and I nodded, before kissing him goodbye.
"Want me to pick you up tomorrow?" Edward rolled down his window to call out as I walked back up the porch.
"Nah, I think I'll ride," I called back, he nodded and backed out of the driveway, and turned down the street.
I felt like my hands were shaking now that Edward had left, and I barely made it back to my room before I felt like my whole body was going to explode with nervous energy. I knew what I needed, and I knew it was the reason I'd told Edward not to stay, but I also hated myself for it.
I threw my backpack down onto my bed and went to the bathroom to strip off and start the shower, turning the heat on as hot as it would go. I winced as I stepped under, the burn knocking the air from my lungs as I tried to wash away the permanent feeling of grim and filth I felt all over me. I knew it wouldn't work, just as it hadn't worked any of the other thousand times I'd tried, but I scrubbed my skin raw regardless, rationalizing that I could at least scrub Tyler's disgusting hands off of me.
After my skin was burning and red, I shut the water off and grabbed one of the razor blades from the bathroom counter, and sat on the shower floor. Before I could think about it too much, I swiped the blade across my leg three times and breathed deeply as I focused on the pain. The pain pushed away everything momentarily, letting me live in that small second of relief. No memories, no guilt, no sadness. Only the stinging pain, just for that moment. I did it again, over and over, craving that moment where my brain shut off and I could focus on nothing else.
But it was never enough.
No matter how many cuts I made, or how deep I pressed the metal into my skin, that moment still faded just as quickly as it came. I let myself contemplate, just for one fleeting moment what it would be like to run that tiny blade up my arm, how much damage I could truly do in one quick movement.
As usual, I pushed that thought away, knowing I didn't dare to stoop that low and cause that much heartache. Not now.
I sat for a long while on the shower floor, letting my leg bleed as I stared at the wall, wishing I didn't have to leave here and face what I'd done to myself yet again. I hadn't been cutting since Edward and I had been together, and I was proud of that fact. Even last night when I'd spent hours scrolling through the torrent of homophobic abuse, I'd still managed to resist the urge. But somehow, when it came to memories of my father, I was weak, I was helpless, just as I'd been back then. It wasn't Tyler's actions that had affected me so badly today, though the thought of him pressing against me made my stomach turn, it had been the things I'd remembered when it was happening.
Every time I had a flashback, I felt like I remembered more and more of the events that I tried so desperately to forget. My therapist told me it was normal to lock away traumatic memories, but that in order to move past my abuse, I needed to acknowledge them. The issue is that I didn't want to acknowledge them, I wanted to bleach every second of it from my brain and never speak of it again. I didn't want to remember the smell of the rum on his breath, or how the ropes cut into my wrists. I wanted to forget the searing pain of his knife, and the way he touched me as if he owned me.
I gritted my teeth at the thought. He does own me, even now, even after all this time, and distance I've put between myself and what happened in that basement. I hated it. I hated that I'd never be free of him. Because not only were all my bad memories filled with him, so were so many of my good ones. Every birthday party, every childhood milestone, he was there, playing the role of the loving father to anyone who might be paying attention.
That's what truly made me sick.
He knew how to hide so well, even from his own family. No one who knew him wanted to believe he was capable of the things he had done to me, and if it weren't for the fact that he'd been caught in the act when my mom and Rosalie had come home early from a trip, no one probably would have. He'd put me in the hospital for weeks due to the extent of my injuries, and there were still people on his side of the family who accused me of making it up to this day, even after he'd been convicted.
He was such an expert chameleon, adapting himself to whatever image he needed to portray; the charming high school sweetheart, the doting husband, the church-going family man. And the worst part is, he was all those things when it served him. He was the one to care for my mom during her difficult pregnancy with twins, he was the man who taught me how to ride a bike, and who pushed us on the swing so high we felt like we were flying.
But he was also the man who swore and yelled at my mother when she accidentally burnt dinner while taking care of three kids, who screamed at me anytime I played dress up with my sister, and who slapped me across the face if I spoke out of turn.
He was the man who raped me.
I could never bring myself to rationalize how those two men could be the same person, and how every good memory I had growing up was tainted by the monster that had always been lurking under the surface. Everyone thinks they should be able to spot evil like that as if there's some inherent warning, but the truth is I couldn't even have known what he was capable of, and I was his son. His spitting image. As much as I hated it, I couldn't deny that the older I got, the more the boy in the mirror turned into him. His blue eyes, his blonde hair, his empty stare.
I was just like him. I was so good at hiding things from people I cared about, it was my natural instinct. Did I develop that to hide my pain, or did I learn it from him?
I had learned from my uncle Garrett a few years ago, that my grandfather had also been a terrifying, angry man. He had beat his sons regularly, as if it were his right as their father, and made sure they knew they were to settle down with a nice obedient woman like my grandmother and raise a family like good God-fearing men should. I'd been fortunate never to meet my father's father, as he'd died before I was born, but I couldn't help but wonder that if my dad's behavior was due to the abuse he'd grown up with, where did that leave me? Was I destined to be another in a line of angry, hateful men in my family, as if there was some inherited trait we couldn't escape? I knew that rationally it wasn't that simple, my uncle wasn't like my father at all, he had been the first one to disown his brother when he found out what he'd done, and had cut off the rest of his family when they wouldn't do the same. He had taken care of my mom while she dealt with the fallout of everything, and was still the closest thing I had to a father figure now. Then there was Emmett. He was raised in the same household as me, and in many ways, he'd suffered the same abuse. He'd just been able to get out before things got really bad. In a lot of ways, he and Garrett were a lot alike, and I can't help but wonder where my brother would be now if he'd been my uncle's son instead.
I suddenly realized I'd been sitting on the shower floor lost in thought for a long time when I shivered, the once steamy bathroom now cold and clammy. I looked down at my leg, the bleeding now having mostly stopped, and I stood up carefully, turning on the water to wash the remnants of blood from the floor as I stepped out. I took the time to cover and bandage my leg properly, my movements efficient and practiced enough to make even Carlisle proud. I laughed bitterly at the thought of Edward's parents learning about my habit. Surely they'd have the sense to keep him away from me if they found out.
I got dressed in a hoodie and sweatpants to cover the red marks left on my skin from scrubbing it raw and headed downstairs to find Emmett sitting at the dining table with his head in his hands, looking exhausted. He must've come home while I was in the shower.
I frowned and walked over to him, "Em? Everything alright?"
He sat up as if shocked to see me, "Jay, shit, yeah, is everything alright with you?"
"Yeah?" I answered, confused by his weird tone as I sat down at the table opposite him.
"Rose called me on the way home. She's been trying to get hold of you," he straightened up as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, though his face still looked slightly pale.
"Oh. Right." I felt a pang of guilt as I recalled Edward talking to my sister earlier, and I remembered my phone was still off in my bag.
"What happened? She sounded freaked out that she couldn't get hold of you and that Edward had left?"
"Fuck, I'll go call her," I sighed and went to stand from the table, but Emmett pulled me back down.
"Jasper, tell me what happened today. I missed a call from Edward this morning, and then Rosalie tells me you apparently had one of the worst panic attacks of your life, and you're just going to sit there like nothing fucking happened?" My face dropped as I heard the accusatory tone in my brother's voice, and I dropped my head in shame.
"I'm fine, I had a bit of a breakdown at school, but-"
"Oh, fuck off with that shit, Jasper," Emmett stood abruptly from the table and leaned on the back of the chair and looked at me. "I've had such a long day of dealing with people's shit, I'm not going to come home and be lied to in my own house. I asked you what happened, because I know something happened, so tell me."
I was stunned silent for a moment, not used to seeing my brother like this. I realized just how many times he'd had to deal with me lying to his face and telling him I was fine, and a pang of guilt shot through me. I pushed down my urge to get up and leave, or get angry back and took a breath, wondering how I could explain.
"There was an incident with a couple guys at school in the locker room. I freaked out and ran," I fidgeted with a coaster on the table as I spoke, not wanting to meet Emmett's gaze, "Edward found me and couldn't calm me down, so I guess he called you and Rose. She talked to me and then Edward brought me home. That's what happened."
I saw Emmett's hand clench on the back of the chair and I heard him take a deep breath before sitting down again.
"Thank you," he said, the anger leaving his voice. "What do you mean 'incident' though?"
I closed my eyes and sighed, really not wanting to rehash what had happened. "It was just a couple assholes who were trying to pick a fight, and when I didn't rise to it, they shoved me around."
The pit of ever-present guilt in my stomach grew as I lied again to my brother's face.
"Fucking little shits, who are they, I'll kick their asses."
"Em, please, just leave it, I've already got Edward wanting to start a crusade on my behalf, I just want to forget about it." I looked at him pleadingly, hoping I could just make this whole thing with Tyler go away.
Emmett sighed heavily and leaned back in his seat, his jaw clenching and unclenching.
"Fine," he said after a long pause, "But just remember, never start a fight, but if one comes your way, you fight like hell, you hear me?"
I nodded and stood up from the table, patting my hand on Emmett's shoulder in silent thanks. I wished him goodnight, and made my way back upstairs, dreading the fact that I was going to have to have this same conversation all over again when I called Rose. I flopped down on my bed, wincing as I landed on my bandaged leg which had gone numb enough for me to forget about, and fished my phone out of the bottom of my bag.
When I turned it on, I was flooded with missed notifications, some from Facebook group chats and the like about being gay which I promptly deleted, and a bunch of missed calls from Rosalie and Emmett from earlier today. I took a deep breath as I dialed my sister's number, she picked up after the first ring.
"Jazzy, are you okay? I was so worried." I could hear her worry in her voice, even if she hadn't said it.
"Yeah, I'm okay now, Ro. Thank you for talking to me earlier, it really helped." I don't think I could ever really thank her or Emmett enough for being there for me as much as they have been so consistently.
"Well, I got detention for it, so I'm glad it helped," She laughed quietly into the phone.
"Sorry about that, I didn't realize Edward was calling for reinforcements."
"Don't worry about it, but is he okay? He sounded like he was in tears when he called me, you must have really freaked him out."
Another drop into the guilt pit as I listened to her describe Edward's distress. My memory was too clouded by my panic to recall his reaction at the time, but I can't imagine it would've been very pleasant for him, and he was clearly worried enough to have called my family for help.
"Yeah, I think he's okay, we talked about it a bit after he brought me home."
"What happened today anyway?"
"Nothing you need to worry about. Just a couple assholes who got under my skin."
"They must have done something pretty major to set you off that badly?" she questioned.
"I was just on edge already, people at school found out Edward and I are dating and were being pricks about it."
"What?" I heard the confusion in my sister's voice and panic shot through me as I realized I hadn't told her about Edward and me yet.
"Uh," I stammered as I started trying to explain, but she cut me off.
"You're gay aren't you," It wasn't a question. "I knew it, I fucking knew it, how could you, Jasper?"
I gaped in shock at her tone. I had expected her to be surprised, sure, but at least supportive, but instead she sounded pissed.
"What do you mea-"
"How could you not tell me? How could you keep something like that from me?" I felt the guilt pit nearly open up and swallow me whole at the hurt in my sister's voice.
"Rose, I-"
"Save it, clearly I wasn't important enough to know, so forget it," and with that, she hung up, leaving me staring at my phone in shock and confusion.
I felt tears prick in my eyes and I squeezed them shut, not wanting to cry any more than I already had today. I needed a distraction, so I dialed Edward's number.
"Hey love, everything okay?"
"Can I not just call my boyfriend without there being something wrong?," I sighed into the phone, rubbing my hand over my eyes.
"Sure you can, but by the sounds of it, there is something wrong."
"I just called Rose and accidentally outed myself." I swallowed hard, trying to keep the shakiness out of my voice.
"Oh shit, I thought you would've told her by now?"
"I meant to, I mean, I guess I just didn't think... Fuck," I gritted my teeth and hung my head in my hands and I sat on my bed.
"Why do you sound so upset, did she not take it well?" Edward sounded rightfully confused.
"She hung up on me."
"Ouch. What the fuck is that about?"
"She's pissed I didn't tell her. Or pissed that I'm gay, she didn't really elaborate," I trailed off as I considered the second option for the first time.
"I doubt she's pissed that you're gay, love," Edward said gently.
"I dunno. She's pissed either way. So was Emmett when he got home. I feel like all I do is upset people."
"Wait, why was Emmett pissed?"
"Because Rose called him and he missed your call so he knew something was up, and I didn't tell him." I laid on my back on the bed and stared at the ceiling, wondering why the hell anyone put up with me.
"I'm sorry, love, I'm sure he was just worried," Edward sighed softly.
"That's the issue, they're always worried, so are you. I'm so fucking annoying that everyone thinks I'm a liability."
"Jasper, don't do that. You know full well if the situation was reversed you'd be worried too."
I sighed loudly in frustration, "I know. It's just hard to constantly feel like everyone is walking on eggshells around me, y'know?"
"I know, but we're not going to stop caring about you, so it's hard not to worry. Make sense?"
"Yeah. Thank you," I sighed, still feeling frustrated at the amount of shit that had happened just today.
"Don't mention it. You should get some rest though, you sound tired," I heard the smile in Edward's voice as he knew I was likely to tell him off again for worrying over me.
"Yeah, it's been a long fucking day," I said quietly, not in the mood to banter.
"It really has, hasn't it? Get some sleep, love. I'll see you at school, okay?"
"Okay."
We said our goodnights and I hung up the phone, my mind still buzzing with an overload of anxieties, though exhaustion was beginning to win out. I leaned over and turned off my lamp, wondering just how in the hell I was supposed to face tomorrow.
A/N: Oof, this one had me stuck for some reason, but I got there eventually. You get a bit more insight into Jasper's history with this one, and learn more about his father.
Please let me know what you think, if you enjoy the character interactions scenes, or Jasper's inner-monologue more!
*I just want to clarify, though I hope that it's obvious, being abused absolutely DOES NOT excuse or justify abusing others, nor does it necessarily have to lead to people becoming abusers. Please understand that a lot of Jasper's thoughts and rationalisations are that of a very mentally unwell kid struggling to come to grips with his trauma.
