A/N: I'm putting a trigger warning on this chapter for abuse.

Dust flew in all directions when Jasper plopped down a big binder on top of his desk.

Beside Bella, Edward shifted, his eyes darting from the desk to Jasper. "Carlisle wants this?"

Jasper merely gave him a look, flipping over the cover and sorting through loose sheets of paper.

After a few tense moments that had Bella taking a few steps away from Edward, he fumed, "No. This is ridiculous."

He didn't even look at her before stalking out of the library.

Bella watched him leave. "Where is he going?"

"To upset Carlisle, once again." Jasper motioned for her to come closer. "I've been studying different accounts of shield work. These are copies from various books Carlisle lent us, and I've made some notes on some key strategies we can try."

When Bella stood beside him, she saw stacks and stacks of papers with yellow highlights and black ink. "Why is Edward going to upset Carlisle?"

"He doesn't seem to understand the point in working on your shield."

Because he didn't want her to die. Her death was the only subject she and Edward agreed on.

Jasper's fingers paused on the pages, his gaze unfocused. Bella realized that he was simply listening to whatever commotion was happening downstairs—whatever she couldn't hear.

She looked down at the notes, her eyes skimming charts and sketches of big, round orbs, lengthy texts and Jasper's handwriting in the margins. There was a paragraph with the brief description of a shield, and likely familial origins. There were sections on mental and physical shields, detailing—

Crash.

Bella jumped, startled, eyes flying up to Jasper.

But he seemed unfazed. "Edward just learned that Carlisle declared your existence to Italy." He pushed another paper forward. "Here's the most interesting, and perhaps useful, piece of information. Visualization is a core technique that spans many gifts—both offensive and defensive." His finger lingered on a diagram of various three-dimensional shapes. "We can start here."

"So, I need to mentally visualize a physical shield?"

He went over to his chair at the desk and pulled it out for her, nodding at her to sit. "Correct."

Bella sat, eying the papers in the binder. She reached out and grabbed the one with the diagram. "I can start with a sphere."

"And start small. Focus on covering just your body, and don't think about expansion."

For the first ten minutes, Bella sat there, her eyes closed, imagining a pulsing sphere around her head. Every few minutes, she would feel just a little insane for even attempting such an odd feat. The supernatural seemed unreal at moments like this; she felt like a child attempting to use telekinesis on a doll.

And she couldn't help the laughter that burst from her lips. Her hands came up to her mouth, her eyes flipping open. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

Jasper was by his bookshelf to her left. "Why are you sorry?"

It was like she couldn't control her laughter. "It just feels ridiculous. Shields, vampires… like magic that shouldn't exist."

And then, she grew entirely still, a coldness washing down her back. Spine straight, she looked right at Jasper. She couldn't move—not really. She felt frozen in place. Frozen in fear.

"Now," Jasper said, his eyes hard, as he approached her. "Fight."

"What?" She breathed, her back aching from its stiffness.

"Fight, Bella."

Spheres, spheres, spheres. Big, large, blue, purple. Pulsing, dotted, and lined. She thought of everything she could to protect her mind and her body.

Jasper was beside her. Watching, waiting. She saw his hand twitch beside him.

It felt like minutes of dread and fear and terror—eating her up, and pumping adrenaline throughout her body. Run, run, run it told her.

And then, Jasper turned away. Her hands fell on the desk to support her weight as she collapsed forward. The chill evaporated, and she breathed in deeply to calm her racing heart.

She straightened herself, her eyes finding him with a newfound hesitation.

"Again," he commanded when he turned back around to her. "Ready?"

"I—"

Ice water splashed over her, filling her veins and shaking her to her core. She vaguely registered the library door opening, but couldn't focus enough to discern who it was. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to tamper down the panic that surged through her body.

A shield. A solid, electric shield. A sphere. Guarding, protecting…

Bella fell forward again, gasping, shivering at the feeling of the heat returning to her body. She looked up and saw Carlisle watching her.

"Again," he simply ordered.

Jasper cocked his head towards her, and it began again. The fear was a snake that slithered through her veins, electrifying her nerves, and preparing her for a fight. Her breaths were shallow, and she was sure her eyes were dilated beneath her eyelids.

Her body relaxed once again when Jasper's influence let her go.

"Nothing?" Carlisle asked.

"No," Jasper replied, roaming the back of the room. "You're too paralyzed in the moment, Bella."

She placed a hand on her chest and twisted to glare at him. "I can't possibly imagine why."

"Jasper knows what he's doing," Carlisle said. "Fear is the best motivator."

And so, for the next hour, Carlisle lingered in the library as Jasper hit her with wave after wave of his gift, some worse, and some more mild than others. Towards the end, Bella could tell he was reducing the severity, probably because of the exhaustion that was gradually descending on her.

The fear, no matter how synthetic, manifested physically, which in turn took a very real, physical toll on her body.

"Let her rest," Jasper eventually said, and Carlisle seemed to agree. "We can try again tomorrow."

Bella pushed herself off of the desk, her standing legs weak and wobbly. Jasper didn't move to help her. In fact, he was at the very far end of the room, distant, and cold.

That was when Bella noted that in Carlisle's presence, Jasper was different. He was as detached as the first day she had met him.

Bella had missed three out of five days of school that week. Not because she was sick or unable to attend, but because she simply couldn't bring herself to try.

So when Edward arrived in her bedroom on Thursday morning, she was showered and ready for the day, but not with any intentions to head to campus. Instead, she was expected at Jasper's library for more shield work.

Edward took one look at her and frowned. "You're missing your classes. Let me drive you to campus."

She had a headache and faintly thought of coming up with an excuse to skip the training today. Rubbing at her forehead, she sighed irritably. "No, that's okay."

"Are you sure? Chem lectures are required, and it's Thursday. Have you even been going to lab?"

"No, not really," she murmured. "It just doesn't matter."

He shook his head, coming closer. "Of course, it matters. Your grades are going to slip."

"No one is going to care about my grades."

"You care. You always do," he insisted, offering a hand for her to take.

Hesitantly, Bella placed her fingers in his palm, but scrambled out of bed herself to avoid any unnecessary yanking on her shoulder joint.

He stood beside her, pulling her close. His neck bent as he trailed his nose down her cheek, to her throat. She felt him inhale deeply as she held her own breath, a chill spreading through her; not so different than the artificial fear Jasper had been instilling in her.

"Have you submitted your transfer application?" She felt his breath against her neck, and it should have sent a bolt of desire through her like it used to. But now, all she wanted was for him to take his hands off of her.

"No." Her voice was clipped as her breath hitched in trepidation.

He pulled away. "No? We said Seattle. We said we would move."

That conversation had been ages ago. Did Edward still truly believe that she was going to pursue her humanly dreams?

Tempering her sadness, she said softly, "I'll go after."

"After?"

"After I'm changed."

"After you're changed," he said, his voice taking on an edge she didn't like.

"I have eight months—"

"Eight months," he repeated, jaw clenched. "Where did you hear that?"

"Jasper, Carlisle…" She hesitated. "You have laws, Edward."

There was a hollow look in his eyes. "You want to become a monster, Bella? You want to become like me?" An eerie silence overtook the room until he finally scoffed, repeating, "Eight months."

And then in a heartbeat, Bella's back was against her bedroom wall, and Edward's forehead was against hers. "Eight months. Is that what you want?"

You need to convince him that this is what you want.

Heart in her throat, she replied through a shaky breath, "Yes."

"Yes?" He asked, disbelieving. "Yes?"

Bella would give anything for Jasper's synthetic fear at that moment instead of the very real threat in front of her. She swallowed, staring back at him.

His finger was on her chin, gripping harder than was comfortable. "I know you don't want to die," he said, his voice chillingly gentle. Slowly, he shook his head. "You can't hide that from me."

Her voice was so, so small. "It's the law."

"Fuck the law."

Bella straightened—at his tone, his inflection, and his surprising vulgarity. And then, his touch was soft against her face, and deceivingly comforting; so opposite to the strength of the words that had left his mouth. "You deserve to live."

"But I will die," she said, almost pleadingly. "Eventually. No matter what. Of sickness, of old age—"

He shook his head, seemingly not even registering her words. "You deserve to live."

"And I will." She tried to embed even a twinge of hope into her tone. "I just won't be human anymore."

Edward's eyes narrowed at her, and his fingers came up to rest against the rapidly thumping rhythm on the side of her neck.

"This is what Olivia said, you know." He looked down at her with a coldness that felt uncharacteristic—so unlike the Edward Cullen she had once known. "She said that she wouldn't be dead; she would just be different."

Noting the darkness in his eyes, she didn't dare say a word.

"And I could see what she envisioned for herself. Because I could read her mind. But you," he said, his breath puffing against her face. "I could never tell what you wanted. You told me that you would learn more about my wretched world. So let me ask you, Bella. What horrors have you learned that have convinced you that this is what you wanted?"

Bella placed a tentative hand on his chest, but knew better than to try to push him away.

"Power? Immortality? The way we were designed to bait, and lure, and kill?" He demanded through clenched teeth.

She was trapped between him and her wall, and all she could think about was keeping her mind blank, and her breathing even. "Edward—"

"Don't you know how beautiful you are?" He said, his voice softening. He watched his fingers as they splayed on her neck. "Your blood, your life, your soul?"

"Edward, I don't have a choice—"

And then, his fingers tightened around her throat, burying her words there. A sudden fury in his voice. "How do you expect me to love a monster?"

She wanted to scream the same thing back at him, but her airway was closing quickly. In just a few more seconds, her vision began to darken. Her body thrashed, searching, begging, pleading for air. I need to breathe, I need to breathe, I need to breathe.

"Because I would love you, Bella. I would love you if you killed ten, or ten-thousand." His voice was distant now, a tad quieter, because her senses were beginning to shut down. "But don't make me do that. Don't make me see you like that. Don't."

She closed her eyes, because this was it. No more foolish hopes of life, and no more possibilities of eternal death. No more future, and no more vampires. No more—

"Edward," came a firm voice. "By Carlisle's orders, you will let her go."

Bella fell to the floor as she was released, grasping at her neck as she took in large, fitful breaths, chasing away the darkness at the corners of her vision.

Edward turned around in a crouch, as if intent on protecting her against whoever had dared to interrupt. There was a long moment of silence as he stared at the figure by her window.

And then, he snarled, "You're the one filling her head with these useless thoughts."

Jasper. It was Jasper. Relief flooded her instantly at the sight of him. "Useless? Don't let our kings hear your opinions on our laws. They can be quite unforgiving."

With sudden horror, Bella watched as Edward stepped forward with every intention of striking him, but Jasper merely dodged out of the way. Edward tried again, hitting air each time, until a swipe of his hand landed on the side of her small bookshelf, splintering the wood.

Jasper made no move to retaliate.

"Edward," Bella choked out, her hand around her throat. "Please. Please stop."

After another unsuccessful attempt, Edward turned to her, and Bella momentarily thought how stupid he was for turning his back on Jasper. Yet still, Jasper made no move against him.

But before he could take another step towards her, Jasper blocked his way. Edward snarled, "Leave, Jasper. This does not concern you."

Jasper's voice was level. "Isabella Swan is under Carlisle's protection, and therefore, mine."

"You serve Carlisle, but you also serve me," he growled. "And I am ordering you to leave."

"Given that Carlisle has declared Bella as a future member of your coven, she is under my contract. Her safety, much like yours, is my responsibility." His face was unreadable—blank, but Bella couldn't miss the fury in his eyes when they cut to her. "And you have hurt her, Edward. You threaten her safety."

Edward glanced back once at her, and Bella caught the flash of shame in his expression. "Bella."

She looked away. She wanted him gone. She wanted him gone so badly, because the dull ache in her throat was going to get worse, and she would have the stains of his fingers as a reminder soon enough.

She felt the rush of air, and only when she was certain he wouldn't return did she let her head come down forward, resting her forehead on her carpet, attempting so desperately to calm her body and her breathing.

And barely a moment later, Jasper was crouched by her, lifting her head, his fingertips lightly brushing the angry spots forming on her neck. "Does it hurt to swallow?"

Bella tried, and winced.

"Should I call Carlisle?" Came an unexpected voice. "Jasper?"

"No," he said quietly, his eyes fixated on Bella's skin as he felt up the swelling. "She's fine."

When Jasper shifted, she could see Alice standing by her window—her cool, golden eyes assessing her.

Jasper sighed, flattening his hand against her throat, no doubt attempting to help the inflammation with a little bit of cold.

He murmured lowly, "He goes too far."

Alice came forward, her arms crossed tightly across her chest. She regarded Bella for a long moment, but remained silent.

Jasper examined her further, peering into her eyes, running his fingers down her cheeks, feeling around her skull. Finally, his hands returned to her throat.

"Edward's just very passionate, isn't he, Bella?" Alice's voice was light, heavenly—but underneath remained an eerie threat. "He loves you so much, he can't bear to see you dead."

"So he would rather kill me himself?" Bella rasped angrily, her throat protesting painfully at the movement of her vocal cords. She wanted to say more. She wanted to tell Alice just exactly how she felt about her brother. But Jasper's eyes were wide with a silent warning as he shifted a hand against her neck, covering more surface area.

"Edward's temperament is a problem we all deal with," Alice replied simply. "But you will love him enough to see past it, won't you?" She crouched prettily beside Jasper, not a wrinkle on her navy slacks. "Well, you obviously can't love him now—I'd want to scratch his eyes out myself, if I were you. But once you're equals, he won't be able to do this anymore. Our skin doesn't bruise."

This was more than just about bruises. "He doesn't want me as an equal."

"He will," Alice insisted sharply. "This has gone on for long enough. His human expectations are unrealistic." She glanced at Jasper, and snapped, "If she's fine, take your hands off of her. You need to be more careful with your scent."

Instantly, Jasper's touch disappeared, and he straightened to stand.

Alice offered her palm to her. "You're fine, aren't you, sweet girl? We won't have to mention this to Carlisle."

Because Carlisle could never know about anything being amiss in his perfect little family.

Bella's eyes searched for Jasper's but they seemed insistent on looking anywhere else. Finally, she reached for Alice's hand and let her bring her to her feet.

Making it to her desk, Bella let herself fall into her chair, one hand firmly wrapping around her throat to comfort the soreness.

Alice surveyed Bella's bedroom once over, and then her eyes landed on Jasper. "Make sure she covers that up before coming to the house. Makeup. Scarf. A turtleneck."

Bella protested. "No, I don't think I should—"

Alice sauntered over to her window, giving her a curt look. "You should, and you will. Carlisle expects you to be working on that silly shield of yours." She snapped her fingers at Jasper. "Cover it up."

Without another word, Alice was gone.

Silly shield.

And she certainly wasn't happy about it.

Tightening her grip on her throat, Bella risked a swallow, and instantly regretted it. But there were no tears, because the shock of the progression of events hadn't faded—though every time the pain sliced her throat, she had the evidence.

Jasper came by and hovered near her, his eyes going to the bookshelf that now needed a replacement. Bella didn't even know what she would tell her father.

"What a nightmare," she breathed in horrific awe, grimacing at the soreness as she spoke.

Shifting to stand by her side, Jasper's hand returned to her throat, brushing hers away in favor of his own. His tone was disapproving. "This is the true nature of Edward Cullen when he doesn't get what he wants."

"I—"

"The more you speak, the more you hurt yourself, Bella." Jasper's other hand brushed a part of her hair back and away from her neck.

Bella fell silent, shaking her head. She felt sad, and furious. Everything was entirely out of her control.

She resorted to whispering so as to not exasperate the pain, "Thank you for coming when you did."

"Thank Alice." Jasper removed his hands. "Thank Carlisle."

Bella cleared her throat, her voice hoarse, and breathy, "I'm under your contract now?"

"You are an unofficial Cullen, given that your change has been reported under Carlisle's signature." A corner of his mouth lifted, amused, but solemn. "It seems I serve a human, now."

"No," she refuted. "You serve Carlisle, who has it in his best interest to prevent Edward from killing me."

Jasper watched her, his eyes running up and down her person. "Do you prefer a scarf?"

And now, Bella wanted to cry. "I wish he took it out on my arms. They were easier to hide."

Jasper tensed, but quickly turned away, heading to her closet. He opened the doors and stared at the clothes, and then pulled at a piece of fabric.

It was a purple wool scarf. When he came back to her with it, his eyes wouldn't meet hers. "Here. We're to meet Carlisle at noon."

Bella didn't take the scarf. Instead, she stood before him. "Does it look terrible?"

Jasper's eyes finally—almost reluctantly—returned to hers. They gradually inched down to her throat. "Terrible."

He wrapped the scarf around her, carefully dropping the fabric on her shoulders.

She reached up to grip at the wool, fighting down the irrational thoughts that wanted her to rip through it in protest. Anger was always easier than sadness.

Instead, she made the quiet observation, "You didn't fight Edward."

Jasper remained silent, watching her with stark, red eyes that seemed to be filled with… an apology.

"Because per your contract, you have to ensure his safety, too," she finished for him, blinking away the wetness in her eyes. "Jasper, if I develop a physical shield, I'll be more vulnerable. Without her visions, Alice can't protect me the way she does."

There was a quick, and noticeable change in Jasper's demeanor. An odd gleam in his eyes. "And that will keep Edward at a distance. If Alice can't see you properly, she will order Edward away on Carlisle's word. If she's smart, she'll only let him near you when you're around anyone that could intervene." He reached up and wrapped a final loop around her neck. His voice was quieter, and softer, "If not for anything else, work for that. Work for keeping Edward Cullen away from you."

Bella cleared her throat, shaking her head at the pain. "I can't hide this from Carlisle. He'll know when I speak."

"You're sick. You lost your voice." His hands came up to adjust her scarf properly, cool fingers brushing beneath her chin. "Do you really think Carlisle cares about the details of your excuse? Just as long as you have one."

"Why even need the excuse? I should just march up to him and tell him exactly what type of a man his son is."

Jasper sighed. "Because diplomacy requires a degree of civility. And you want to be diplomatic in our world, Bella. As a human, you don't have much of a choice."

"Then I can't wait to die," she said, fueling the anger in her chest. "If Edward even attempts to lay a hand on me, he won't get it back." But then, the anger burned out and she let herself fall back into her chair, her head in her hands. "I can't wait to die?" She sobbed out a laugh. "When will you finally tell me that this is all just a cruel joke?"

Jasper said nothing.

"And he expects me to marry him? You're right. He's delusional. Absolutely—"

His voice was odd. "Marry him?"

"Rosalie said he has a ring."

Silence.

She looked up at him, her hands on her throat, putting on mild pressure. "What? Is Carlisle going to disapprove if…no—when I reject his son?"

"No." Jasper shook his head, his eyes on her scarf. Quietly, he said, "Carlisle doesn't care about marriage."

The next morning, Bella woke to a dozen vases in her bedroom. Yellow, pink, white, orange. Lilies. The sweetness of their scent was enough to choke her.

She took a look around her room, at her fixed bookshelf—replaced, and almost identical to her own—and at the blossoming flowers that taunted her with each pass of her eyes.

Her hand coming up to her throat, she took one deep breath.

And then, finally, though the pain, and through the misery, she cried.

A/N: This chapter: The beginnings of a fearful shield training and Edward's cycle of abuse.

I wanted to address a few things:

Firstly, the abuse is problematic and unacceptable. I know it. You know it. The world knows it.

Secondly, I've been getting a lot of good theories from all of you regarding Bella's shield. And that's all I can really say about it.

A little taste for what's coming up:

"We don't have to do this today."

Bella pointed a bold finger at her throat. "Because of this?"

"Because you need a break."

"No. The sooner I get this shield working, the sooner—"

Jasper's hand was over her mouth in an instant. And he held it there for a few seconds before letting it drop. He leaned over her, and whispered so softly in her ear that she could barely hear him say, "You forget that you're in a house of vampires."

See you next week.