Chapter 10

Flashback on a Film Reel

Willow

Between the last burning tug of pain and the thump of her human heart, the world went both silent and screeching at once.

Sitting up in the bed, she drank in the colour around her as golden hour spilled throughout the room with new eyes, cataloguing each shade into the mental wheel in her head. Her gaze didn't stay still for long, darting around, taking in thousands of details for the first time.

She couldn't remember a time where she hadn't needed an aide. There had been proof, something in her gut telling her that, something just out of her grasp making her think of a rich, deep laugh and hazel-green eyes.

A sweet breeze sent something male towards her, her mind cataloguing the flora on the wind - Texan sage, agarita and prickly pear cacti - and her eyes locked on a pair of deep honey ones. She knew that male , she did. Knew that black pepper and jasmine scent like it was a part of her; had felt that patchwork of scars under human soft fingers, carded them through those sunshine curls as they tickled her skin..

Jasper, her memory whispered.

It clicked then, as easy as putting the last puzzle piece down.

Yes, that was her Jasper.

Her Mate.

He seemed almost cautious, taking her in.

Why was he over in the corner? She wouldn't hurt him.

'What?'

Oh, that voice. Willow coveted the way his twang coated the word, tucked it into her mind, cherished the quiet query. 'Hi.'

That was weird. Her hand lifted to her mouth as dark hair tumbled over her shoulder. Was it different? Willow couldn't grasp anything firm right then, humanity slipping away like smoke through her fingers.

'Hi.' Jasper's voice tugged her right back to the present, as much as he could as her brain sorted the sounds into their files.

It was so loud. When did it get like that? Has it always been as busy?

Willow cranked her jaw, trying to pop her ear. When that didn't work, she grimaced, tipping it to a shoulder. 'It's noisy.'

Jasper came closer, and she found her grasp tangled in his embrace. 'I had a feeling this would happen for you.'

Frustration coiled in her when she couldn't quite grasp the reason as to why. A growl built in her throat and she pushed her forehead into Jasper's chest, trying to chase the answer. It was right there. Why was it not coming to her?

Familiar hands ran through her hair and Willow could feel the scars as he tipped her head up, the fight leaving her shoulders in a flash, soaking in the feel of his thumbs on her cheeks. 'Let's get you fed, first, hmm? Then we can work on the memories.'

'Why are they not there?' Willow groused.

That golden gaze warmed like sun-soaked caramel as Jasper easily smoothed the valley between her brows, 'They can take time to come back to you.' But she wanted them now. 'Patience, sweetheart.'

'That's stupid.'

He quirked a brow, the side of his mouth twitching as he hid a smile. 'Oh?'

She went to respond when a sound caught her attention. Like a melodious drum beat, a siren's call. Willow ate up the distance between the bed and the wall of windows, balanced easily onto the balls of her feet to try and peer deeper into the trees. A breeze cut through the room again and it brought hunger to the surface.

Like rich chocolate, tart cherries and warm cinnamon, it drew her in like the faint memories of that laugh.

Something had her looking back to Jasper, like she needed a touchstone before taking a deep plunge. 'Go on.'

The world sped past her in a maelstrom of colour. Everything whizzed by at lightspeed and a snail's pace all at once as she followed that scent. She found herself in a crouch, on the edge of a clearing, hands perched in sun-sweetened strands of grass as she stalked a herd of…deer, these were white-tailed deer.

Eyes darting about the herd, something in her had her disregarding the smaller doe and their young, instead had her focusing on the young buck whose antlers were bloodied from raking them on a tree. Her mouth pooled with venom and she sprung.

Hooves bolted in a cacophony of alarm as she brought the buck down, fingers pierced as her mouth cut deep.

Gods, it was like the sweetest honey and coolest summer drink all at once, quenching the burn of her throat with ease. But it was there and then it was gone.

A snarl tore through her as the hunger lingered and Willow launched after the herd once more. One doe and another younger buck fell to her thirst before things began to feel close to too much.

That was a strange feeling, the blood almost sloshing in her stomach. It had a funny noise to it, she noted, swaying back and forth from where she sat in the underbrush, licking her hands and cleaning her face.

What had she been doing before? She'd been doing something, hadn't she? Willow dropped back into the brush beneath her and she was enraptured.

The underside of the trees created an emerald green proscenium arch around the open pale, cornflower blue of the sky, where she could see the beginnings of the silver, dove grey of the moon and the playful peekings of the stars.

'Oh…'

She sank back into the embrace of the grass beneath her and she wasn't even hungry anymore. Willow wanted to lie there and watch the sky darken, wanted to trace the constellations of the stars with her fingers till daybreak and even then it would be too short a time. She wanted to do it with Jasper.

Jasper.

It hit her then, what she had been doing before the hunger had hit. Jasper; she had been talking to Jasper. Willow followed that string in her chest and twisted to find him leaning against a tree, arms comfortably across his chest, watching her, a serene smile on his face. 'Havin' fun?'

She looked around her and only then did she realise the sheer amount of mess she'd made of herself. The sun dress she wore was unrecognisable, drenched in blood and grass stains and her arms - streaked up to her elbows - were speckled with bark and dirt. The younger buck was in pieces around her, the doe decapitated. 'The fuck…'

'You might get neater as you get the hang of it.' he grinned, 'But Emmett hasn't so we won't know for certain. Hungry?'

Willow thought on it, and lifted a hand to her throat. 'Is it always…dry?'

'Pretty much.'

She remembered a cafeteria then, glass windows and tables occupied by teenagers, 'How did you deal with it?'

Jasper pushed off the tree then, sauntering over in jeans and his t-shirt, 'You find what makes it bearable.'

Willow rolled her eyes, feeling that habit settle on her shoulders like a favourite jumper, 'Gag.'

'There she is.' the warmth to those three words, the playful tug to the bond in her chest, had her peering up into his face.

'I missed you.'

And she had. Willow couldn't quite remember the Time Before just yet, but she recognised the loneliness she hadn't realised she had had been chased away by the bond in her chest. She took the hand he offered and rolled to her feet.

Her knee didn't even hurt. In Jasper's arms, Willow scrutinised her leg. It was then when she heard the whine of a hinge, the click of her ankle. There had been a scar along the front of the limb, angry, raised and pink because of the lack of sun Forks got, and now? It was non-existent.

Was it strange that Willow found herself mourning the sign of the accident?

She remembered how sore it had gotten around her leg - it had nearly been on par with her heart in terms of pain. It was just strange to hear it so clearly.

Jasper drummed along her spine gently and she blinked back. So, she could hear her leg click, she'd get used to it. She got used to the near constant ache, this was just another thing.

'I was right there with you the entire time.' he answered back, using a hand to tuck back some loose bits.

Absently, Willow noticed the dark marks under his eyes had lessened, that there was a hint of doe to him, his breath, and something in her relaxed as she realised her Mate had eaten. Far cleaner than she was, Willow mused.

'Like I said,' Jasper reassured her, seeing where her mind had gone, as he thumbed at the flaking blood under her bottom lip, 'you might get neater with time.'

'That would be nice.' She nodded, catching sight of the almost dried streak on the digit. She wanted to see what it would taste like from him. Instead, Willow watched as Jasper licked it clean. Followed his actions and swayed towards him like a magnet.

A snap of a twig ricocheted like a cannon blast throughout the forest and suddenly, the want she had been feeling was the last thing on her mind.

Peering around the bulk of Jasper, Willow stared into the trees. Tipping her chin to the air, she took in the scents; it wasn't until she got to male, female, with a faded pepper undertone that Jasper favoured that she tensed.

Jasper hadn't shifted though - if he had done so, then it surely would've been a danger right? Instead, he seemed to be letting her work through everything. Willow could see him move in the corner of her eye as she worked through the palettes in front of her. Never further than her arm but far enough to give her space.

The bond between them wasn't fraught either.

Think, Willow, think.

With a hand clutched above Jasper's forearm where he had it extended towards her, Willow thought back through her murky memories from her life as a human.

The two vampires - there had been no heartbeats to the scent sources, so they were surely vampires - had the same familiar undertones to her Mate. It was right on the tip of her tongue.

A rabbit's quick heart to the distant right of her caused faces to flash across her mind.

Peter and Charlotte.

The fight escaped her as the penny dropped. Oh.

Willow sank into Jasper's body as she catalogued the scent palettes further, filing them in her head as he pulled her in between his legs by the outside of her thigh.

'Take your time.' he rumbled in her ear. 'Concentrate. What can you tell me about 'em?'

'They smell like…y-you.' She swallowed as he hummed and licked up her neck, and instinct had her head falling back.

'Keep goin'.'

'They both stink.' and they did. Stale sweat, beer and smoke had her tongue curling in her mouth and a whine building in her throat.

Jasper hid a laugh in her neck, and Willow let his touch bring her back. 'They do. That's from the bars an' the city. What else?' he felt her reluctance then as she buried her face away into his chest. 'Willow.'

'I don't…' It was like she could get nothing else but the bars from them now that she'd locked on it. Willow wanted to stay where she was, then, tucked up against her Mate, in the forest where she was safe and she knew what was what.

In a split second, their positions were reversed and the weight of Jasper had Willow pinned against the trunk. He had a hand around a thigh that she'd hiked around his waist and Willow was drowning in that honey gaze. 'Don't what?'

She didn't want to.

But Willow had a feeling that Jasper wouldn't let her get away with shit like this. The hard ass.

She glared at him.

All Willow got in return was an unimpressed quirk of a brow as his finger and thumb caught her chin in a firm grip. 'Don't what?'

'This is stupid.' she snarled. Her teeth snapped at his chin and, in a flash, his hand rested on her throat.

He got close as his gaze flashed. 'Be careful what you do with those teeth of yours, gorgeous.' The timbre made faint memories of rumpled sheets, lavender marks and bone deep satiation flash back like a film reel in her head. 'What can you tell between them?'

Willow didn't really give a fuck but Jasper wasn't going to move from this spot with that expression on to his face, so she really only had one choice.

Her eyes fell shut with a frustrated growl before she did something stupid - like kiss him or something along those lines even as the memories had her skin feeling tight - and took in the scents again.

What could she tell between them? That the two had fucked recently, the individual notes of Charlotte's patchouli and Peter's vetiver mixing more. There was something else too, something she couldn't get.

'What is that?' Willow demanded him, as her eyes snapped open. It wasn't necessarily something that had a true scent, but it had distorted Peter and Charlotte's enough that it tasted almost like a mix of cardboard and stamp glue.

'Worry.'

'What?'

He let her down then, hands coming to encase her face. 'It wasn't a stranger being Turned this time. It was you. They've been worried about how things would be when you woke up, how your first hunt would be,' Jasper's head tipped, 'how I'd react. A lot of things.'

'Oh.'

Emotions, bitter and flat, landed around her shoulders like an ill-fitting mantle at his explanation. Something about the worry had grey washing through her. Or at least that was the only way Willow could describe it - like all the colour had been pulled by wherever the faint whispers of memories had been from.

'Hey.' Those bitter coils were gone in a second and Willow stared up at a slightly concerned looking Jasper. 'Give them time, don't try to force 'em.'

'But they're right there.'

He nodded as he moved the hand from her throat to tuck a crusty strand behind an ear for her. 'And technically, sweetheart, you've just had your head rewired, so give things time to settle before you start trying to force shit, 'specially memories. Won't do you any good.'

'Speaking from experience?'

It was like Jasper couldn't catch the laugh before it echoed throughout the forest and it was a sound Willow wanted to bottle up. The sunlight caught in his curls, spinning a colour wheel of warm yellows, browns and caramels. Her fingers itched for a brush and a palette; a fresh canvas. She could faintly remember sitting in her truck, Jasper driving, with her sketchbook in her lap, capturing him as the sun caught on his elbow as it rested in the window. She could remember him being her favourite subject.

'Oh, so you don't want to go back to the house then?' Jasper dimpled at her, and Willow welcomed him back into her space with covetous fingers, surprised that she hadn't actually torn anything yet.

Willow got whiffs of deer and grass when her hair swished across her face. 'No, I'm perfectly happy staying right here.'

Jasper tucked the rogue strands back again - she could hear the dried strands catch on his fingers - 'Hate to break it to you, gorgeous, but you look like a murder victim right about now.'

'I am technically already dead though.'

Willow felt her brows furrow as he stepped away but kept their hands tangled. 'C'mon, you'll feel better after a wash. I know it's starting to annoy you.'

She sneered a bit, 'It's not necessarily the skin bit but my hair sounds awful.'

Jasper released his grip on her hands and cupped the back of her neck. Willow sank into his hold as her own landed around his waist. In his hold, everything went quiet. Softer in a way Willow couldn't yet describe, but her chest loosened and breathing got so much easier.

She heaved her eyes open to find Jasper almost drinking her in, like he couldn't quite believe she was in front of him as a newborn. 'Stop brooding.'

'I'm not brooding.'

That was his brooding face. She told him such with a poke between his brows to make her point. 'We knew we'd get here eventually, hon, it's just a good thing that nothing dramatic happened.'

Jasper kissed her then and she rolled up onto her toes to chase his taste with a moan. He'd kissed her rough before, muscle memory helping her remember those, but it was different now that they were the same temperature. That he didn't have to be worried about being too strong, too harsh with her gossamer skin.

Between a second and the next, her knees were hitched around his waist again as Jasper pinned her against the ground and her fingers were tangled in his hair. Gods, every part of her was electrified, nerves alive in her skin as she rolled her hips against the rough denim of his, a shudder running down her back at the difference.

A whine tore from her throat when Jasper rooted a hand in her hair to bear her throat and it was like Willow couldn't get air into her useless lungs fast enough.

A pop in the underbrush had her sitting up and headed in that direction in a second. She distantly registered the disgruntled, frustrated grunt from her Mate but he'd be there when she got back, what the fuck was that sound?

Her nose found it first, a little babbling brook, where moss and fresh water made an earthy-clean aroma. Willow perched on a rock and let her blood stained fingers play in the stream. The sharp cold curled her toes and a shiver bloomed without the goosebumps.

'There's one of these by the Forks house, right?' Willow threw to Jasper as she watched the blood flake off, enraptured by the texture. A husky voice, a woman dressed in a pale blue dress as the ghost of bubbles danced across her tongue danced across her head. Leah.

Jasper sank down on the bank behind her, touch rumpled. 'Yeah. There is.'

She peered at him over her shoulder, the name coming to her easily. 'Leah and I had a conversation there.'

He nodded and cupped his knees with his elbows. 'You did.'

'Did I tell you about it?'

'That you had it after Bella and Edward's reception, sure, but not what was said. Why do you ask?'

Willow changed hands and observed the prisms caught in the water drops in the sun. 'Something tells me it was important. To her. She was scared.' That was wrong. She shook her head, 'No…worried, I think. Like what had happened to her was something that wasn't supposed to happen that way.'

The sound of the brook washed over her and she let it take the frustration. It would come to her in time. With her hands now clean, Willow stood. The peace of sitting by the water had settled something in her bones - not the Mating bond that she'd only ever felt minutely, but the tightness that came with a new situation.

It would take her time to get used to the intensity of her world around her, Willow thought to herself as she took Jasper's hand to cross to the bank, she could do it. She had no other choice.

She had forever to do it anyway.

'Ready to re-meet the others?' Jasper asked her as he caught her eye.

Was she? Willow couldn't really get a firm enough grasp on the memories she had of Peter and Charlotte but if they'd managed to get through the Vampire Wars alongside Jasper then surely, surely, they wouldn't be that bad?

Right?

And Jasper would be there anyway.

Willow nodded her head and gave a grin. 'Last one back!'

Instinct had her stopping before the treeline dispersed at the edge of the forest. She could see the two of them on the porch of the house, smelling a lot less urban than before. The dark clothes were smelling of artificial lavender and lemon and they had the same base notes as the bars of soap in the shower that Willow had caught a whiff of as she'd darted to the window in the bedroom she had woken up in.

It had almost been like they'd known.

Well, Peter had known anyway.

Charlotte seemed to be a watchman by the door, but her frame was too…structured for it to be a true anxiety. Same with Peter. He stood in a caricature of a parade rest, closing his body off with a tight grip to his elbow and side of his chest.

Willow turned her head to listen for Jasper's feet on the brush and watched Peter and Charlotte turn in their direction as a collective unit. He slowed down to a jog as he caught up and the anxiety about meeting not-really-strangers left her.

'Scared?' He murmured sotto voce, hidden by the soft breeze, having breached the shield of the trees.

She didn't really know just how to voice it. Willow knew that she had met Peter and Charlotte before but that had been before immortality, before becoming the thing that they were taught to train and dispose of for Gods knows how long. What would her being a newborn bring up for them?

The earth beneath her curled toes was solid and sun-warmed, comforting in a way that laughter had been, so she grounded herself in it and followed after her Mate who had waited for her to sort through what had felt like a million things at once.

As they approached, Willow couldn't help but identify the plants around them. She wanted to bury her hands in the sandy soil, to get a good feel of them, that was really one of the only ways to test if they needed water. From the glance she took though, the plants looked fine.

Not necessarily behind Jasper, Willow slid to a stop as Peter let out a slow whistle, beaten, black hat keeping the sun out of his face. 'Damn, sweet pea, what'd you maul? Murder vics?'

She shrugged. 'Several deer. I would've brought a head back for the wall but it wouldn't have fit the aesthetic. Also, I think they're a little creepy.'

Peter tipped his head, ruby red eyes flashing with amusement, even if his frame remained firm. 'Some just can't get the eyes right.'

Willow got a phantom flash of an old diner that looked like a log cabin, that had one above the entrance to the kitchen. 'I think…I think Forks might have had at least one.'

Jasper put his weight on the railing, 'I would not be surprised in the least.'

Charlotte watched her and Willow returned the gaze evenly. 'How you feelin'?'

How did she feel? It was hard to verbalise. Willow was consciously aware of everything about her body - the feel of her blood encrusted hair, the tightness of the remains around her mouth, the dry, useless rasping of the air going in and out of her lungs, the texture of the crispy fabric that wrapped around her body.

And that didn't even touch on the other side of the sensory nightmare that were her ears and eyes.

'I'll get back to you on that.' Willow murmured, eyes catching their figures in the windows.

She found herself drawn to the colours again, warped and bleached as they were in the reflection. Her mind coined them, slotting each of them into the ever expanding colour wheel. It wasn't just them though, it was the fact that Willow could see every mark and distortion in the wood of the porch, the fading of the fabric of their sofa and curtains.

Could vampires get headaches?

Awareness washed over her slowly. Willow blinked and she'd been standing there, enraptured by the shifting details. 'Sorry.'

'You went from having to use glasses to 4K vision.' Jasper raised an eyebrow, 'Weird?'

She cocked her head as she watched the light refract off her hand in the sunlight playfully. 'If I picked up a pencil right now, I'd wreck 'em, right?' Willow got a trio of nods in response and she tried to ignore the flash of frustration that refused to leave. 'Don't even think I'd have enough to get the shade right anyway.'

Jasper tipped off where he was leaning on the railing to the doors. 'C'mon, no time like the present to get a handle on things.'

She followed him into their room. Willow could smell them intertwined in the fibres of the sheets. Surrounded by them, their things, markers that they were safe, caused something in her to relax and Willow flexed her toes at the tiles beneath her toes.

'It's not as cold.'

Jasper smiled at her where he stood by the sink and mirrored cabinet. 'You're closer in temperature to it. Snow is still colder though.' he beckoned her forwards with a crook of a couple fingers. 'C'mere.'

Her feet were soundless on the floor as she slipped into his hold and the face that looked back at her was abstract.

It was a strange, alien thing. Her features were there, but they had no resemblance of acne scars, no trace of stubborn baby fat around her chin and jaw lingered at all. If she disregarded the streaks of cracking cabernet on her maw, it was like she looked completely different.

The eyes were the strangest part. Swirls of garnet, ruby, carmine and burgundy peered inquisitively back at her, wrapped by long, dark lashes and brows.

Willow caught Jasper's gaze above her head. 'When will they change?'

His thumbs were soothing on her ribs. 'More towards the end of your Newborn year, according to Carlisle. Most of the colour comes from the remains in your body.'

'You've got flecks of red in yours.'

He nodded. 'From changing you.'

'Is that why you hunted quickly after?'

Jasper cocked his head. 'What was it?'

'Deer. I think.' thinking about it, Willow nodded. 'Same smell.'

She felt almost shy when his pride came down from their bond. It hadn't felt all that necessary if Willow was honest. She couldn't verbalise what her brain did - the scent of the animal's blood was easy, especially since it still lingered on her tongue. Wasn't exactly thermodynamics or neuroscience.

Jasper pressed a kiss to the back of her head, squeezing at her waist. 'I want you to take your hand and place it lightly on the tap.' Willow felt like a puppet as it settled on the metal. 'Now, when you turn it, think about using the least amount of pressure you can.'

She pinched the metal on opposite sides, not realising her brow had furrowed or her tongue was poking out in concentration as she gave a gentle butterfly's wing tug to the handle.

Willow rocked onto her toes when a stream of water came out but it slowed with the monstrous roar of the pipes. 'Good.'

Jasper handed her the dark wash cloth and it felt nice, scraping off the flakes over her mouth, neck, arms, taking the remains of the forest with it. Her hair still felt crunchy and she could hear the strands creak together.

'Wanna try the shower?' Jasper asked, having settled on the edge of the bath.

Her eyes stared at the plumbing. 'It's so loud.'

Charlotte's words came from the doorway. 'Your senses'll level out in a couple'a days.' Willow turned to her, and saw the open expression. 'Least it's just you as the Newborn, and you don't got to fight a battalion of 'em for scraps.' She said with a wry smile.

Willow snorted at the idea. 'You have me there.'

'We had a feeling things would be a lil different for you.' Peter pointed out and she nodded. 'But thanks for not wreckin' the plumbin'.'

'Peter.' Charlotte scolded as laughter erupted from the bathroom, swatting at him.

Jasper caught her hand, a grin on the edge of his mouth. 'Try turning it off.'

Gentle. Softer than you think.

With the lightest nudge, she cut the water off. 'Why is that terrifying?'

'Give you a week, sweet pea.' Peter called as he pushed off the wall, headed for the other side of the house, tugging Charlotte with him.

'You'll be fine.' the blonde gave her as she went with her Mate. 'Don't worry so much!' Willow stared after them for a second, two, before she turned on her foot to Jasper. Charlotte's voice echoed throughout the house, 'I just realised who I said that to.'

'There's your answer.' her Mate murmured, pulling her in again. Gentle, gentle. Her fingers were so careful in his wind swept curls as his own danced up the back of her thighs. Willow drank in the micro expressions on his face, things she'd never have caught as a human.

'See?' His voice was quiet, surrounded by the tiles and natural creeks of a well-worn home. Those butterscotch, caramel eyes opened, 'Knew you'd pick it up fast.'

His faith in her felt unyielding, strong and steady, never wavering. Willow felt nearly overwhelmed by it all, by everything around her, that she sank into his hold.

Cradled in his lap, she hid from the world just for a second. Jasper shifted his hold to around her waist and upper flank and just let her sit.

The shower would be there in a minute or two. Clean clothes sat ready in drawers and on hooks. Life could sit on pause as Willow got her shit together.

It wasn't like she didn't have forever, right?

Didn't say which Friday, did I?

I won't give youse a big spiel but fuck RL has been a bit chaotic for the past few months. Work had consumed any particle of creativity when it came to writing this fic and I'm so incredibly grateful to the old and new readers who have enjoyed this fic so far.

Before you go all weird about her characterisation, Willow will be a little Hammy-the-Squirrel-with-a-cookie until everything settles and she gets a grip on things.

Let me know what you think her powers should be.

Enjoy,

K x