A/N Twilight is the Property of Stephanie Meyer. Anya Simms is all mine.
Chapter 41: Rising from the Ashes
JPOV
Wed March 16, 2005 – Thurs March 17, 2005
Phoenix, AZ
Before I knew it, before I even registered what I was doing, I had clamped onto the bite mark and began sucking out the venom, my desperation fueling every frantic movement. The taste of her blood was overwhelming – fucking delicious! the venom fiery. I had to get it all out, every last drop.
I didn't care about the risk, didn't care about the temptation that threatened to consume me mmm how that blood was hitting all the right spots! Stop it, Whitlock! Don't give in! Focus! All I could think of was saving her, keeping her here with me, in this world, in my arms. The thought of losing her, of her being ripped away from me, was unbearable. I would do anything to stop it, even if it meant fighting against everything I was.
What can I say? I'm a vampire and we're possessive. Especially about those we love.
I barely registered Carlisle's voice as he called out to me, telling me to stop, that it was enough. But I couldn't. I needed to be certain. Not until I felt her heartbeat steady, not until I saw the colour return to her face. And then, finally, I felt it—the venom receding, her pulse growing stronger, steadier. I pulled back, gasping for breath I didn't need, my head spinning from the intensity of what I had just done. If I could have passed out from the taste of her blood, I would have. Fuck it was amazing! Almost as good as sex – almost.
Anya's eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, I wasn't sure if I had succeeded. But then she blinked, her gaze focusing on me, and I knew she was still with me.
Relief washed over me. I had done it. I had saved her.
But as I held her close, trembling with the aftershocks of fear and adrenaline, I couldn't shake the gnawing uncertainty. Had I just made things a hundred times worst? Did my own needs and desires to keep this odd human with her emotional cocktail that I found so addictive derail everything?
Carlisle knelt beside us, his expression grave as he examined Anya. He could see no other obvious injuries, but he wasn't about to take any risks. "She needs to go to the hospital, along with Bella," he insisted, his voice calm but firm. "We need to make sure there's nothing we've missed. Especially since..." He hesitated, glancing at me, then back at Anya, who was lying limp in my arms, her eyes half-open but unfocused.
"Especially since other than that brief flash of recognition in her eyes, she's unresponsive," Carlisle finished, his concern evident.
I looked down at her, the fear I'd been trying to suppress rising again. Anya wasn't just silent; it was as if she was locked away somewhere deep inside herself, unreachable. That brief moment when she had looked at me, I had thought she was coming back. But now... now it was like she was fading again, slipping into some place I couldn't follow.
"Okay," I agreed, my voice rough with emotion. "Let's get her to the hospital."
I carefully lifted her into my arms, cradling her against my chest as if she were the most fragile thing in the world. Bella seemed to be stabilized by Carlisle's earlier actions, and Edward was carrying his human as well, her pain radiating off of her in waves. But Anya... Anya's condition was a mystery, and that terrified me more than anything else. I felt nothing from her. Did I take too much blood?
Alice was by my side in an instant, her hand on my arm, her eyes full of worry. "We'll figure this out, Jazz," she said softly. "She's strong. She'll get through this. But we probably should bind the wound on her wrist."
I looked down at the wound, the circular shape standing stark against her pale skin. The venom was gone, but the wound was raw, the blood seeping slowly, too slowly. I'd been so focused on the venom, on making sure I'd removed every last trace, that I hadn't even thought to bandage the wound.
"Right," I muttered, almost to myself. "Right. We need to stop the bleeding." Fuck, I did take too much. The struggling vampire strikes again. But damn was it delicious!
Alice was already ahead of me, efficiently ripping a strip from the tank top Anya was wearing. I watched as she wrapped it around Anya's wrist, the fabric soaking up the blood. She worked with a calm I couldn't muster, her movements sure, steady. "She'll be ok Jazz." Alice repeated.
Making our way out to the car I refused to let go of Anya, I held her close the entire time, not daring to release her, as if my touch alone could anchor her to this world. Her breathing was shallow, her body limp in my arms, and I fought to keep the panic at bay. I had saved her once; I could do it again. She just needed a transfusion. They had those at hospitals. That was it, just needed more blood.
When we finally arrived, the hospital staff moved quickly, taking Bella and Anya into their care. Carlisle was by their side, making sure they received the attention they needed, but I couldn't bring myself to leave her. I stood just outside the room where they had taken her, watching through the glass as doctors and nurses moved around her, checking vitals, running tests, trying to figure out what was wrong. I never saw them hook up a transfusion.
It was the longest wait ever. Alice pulling me away to sit in some uncomfortable chairs, her presence a quiet comfort, but even she couldn't hide her concern. It made my own panic spiral.
"What if..." I started, my voice barely a whisper. "What if I didn't get all the venom out? What if..."
"You heard Carlisle, the venom is out. You did what was needed." Alice interrupted gently. "Whatever happens now, it's out of our hands. But you saved her life. Hold onto that, okay?"
I swallowed hard, nodding even though my mind refused to settle. I had saved her, but at what cost? Hours passed, then finally, Carlisle emerged from the room. His expression was unreadable, his emotions a steady calm.
WHAT? Is she okay? Will she live? What?
"She's stable," he said, and I felt a rush of relief at those words. "But she's still unresponsive. They ran a transfusion to be on the safe side. There's no sign of any lasting damage from the bite, but... we'll need to wait and see. It's possible she's in shock."
I nodded, trying to process his words. "Can I see her?"
Carlisle nodded, stepping aside to let me in. I moved quickly, almost desperate to be at her side again. When I reached her, I gently took her right hand in mine, my thumb brushing over her skin. She was pale, too pale, but she was breathing, her heart beating steadily under the monitors.
"I'm here, Anya," I whispered, leaning close to her ear. "I'm not going anywhere."
She didn't respond, didn't even stir, but I held on to her hand, refusing to let go. I would stay by her side. I wasn't going to lose her. Not now. Not ever.
I couldn't imagine a world without Anya in it.
Several hours had passed, and still, Anya didn't stir. But then, something changed. I began to feel a flicker of her emotions—faint at first, but unmistakable. The empty void that had been my constant companion was receding, and in its place, her familiar base melody of happiness and joy began to surface. But it was mixed with fear, terror, pain, and a thread of sharp annoyance.
It was a strange, chaotic blend of emotions, but it was Anya. She was coming back.
When I felt her fingers begin to twitch in my grasp, I leaned in, watching her face intently. Her eyelids fluttered, and then, slowly, her eyes opened, the hazy confusion in them clearing as she focused on me.
She didn't disappoint. The first words out of her mouth were pure Anya. "You're a special kind of stupid, Tex," she muttered, her voice hoarse but laced with that familiar bite. "Get your vegetarian ass out of this hospital maintenant."
Yes! She's back! My relief was so intense, I almost laughed. Instead, I just squeezed her hand, my chest tight with emotions I couldn't even begin to name.
"Anya," I breathed, my voice thick with both joy and concern. "You're awake."
"Of course, I'm awake," she grumbled, her eyes narrowing at me. "And I'm serious, Jasper. Dépêche toi! Hospitals are not exactly vegetarian-friendly."
I couldn't help the grin that tugged at the corners of my mouth, she might be in pain with a swirl of fear, but she as unmistakably Anya. "I'm not leaving you," I said firmly, though I couldn't help but be amused by her stubbornness as I handed her her glasses.
She huffed, trying to pull herself up into a sitting position, though she winced at the effort and then placed them on her face. "Tex, that's no excuse to risk your self-control for my sake. I'm fine. A little... shaken, but fine."
"You're not fine, Anya. You were bitten by James. You need to rest, and I need to be here to make sure you're okay."
"Tex, I love you," she replied, her voice firm despite her obvious exhaustion, "but you're skating dangerously close to Heathcliff territory, and you know how I feel about broody, overbearing vegetarians swooping in to save a damsel. So, you—aweille!"
Aweille? She seriously telling me to get lost?
She stared at me while I tried to figure out what she was saying, "Alright, alright," I said, holding up my hands in mock surrender. "I'll give you some space. But don't think for a second, I'm leaving you alone for long."
She gave me a tired but genuine smile, her eyes softening. "Sacrament! Get going Jasper! You're making me believe I'm a heroine in a bad romance novel."
With a reluctant nod, I let her hand fall back to the bed and stepped away. "I'll be close by," I promised, and as I headed for the door, I couldn't help but feel a strange mix of emotions—relief that she was okay, worry about what had happened, and love for the woman who had somehow managed to become the most important thing in my existence.
APOV
Friday March 18/05
Everyone wanted to know what had happened.
I didn't know how to share. If I wanted to share. I certainly didn't want to hurt Jasper any more than he was already hurting.
But here is what I remember.
No, that's wrong. I don't remember this. I KNOW this to be true.
All of us entered that ballet studio to a scene of carnage. I kept channeling my inner boredom and calm, to avoid drawing attention to myself, trying to find a safe spot out of the way to let Heathcliff have his moment to play hero. Duck was already well entrenched in her damsel-in-distress act on the far side of the studio.
Sacrament! Could that teenager scream! And it was not just due to the pain of her broken leg, but because James had bitten her. There was venom burning through her.
It was beginning to come back to me now. Once Edward killed the villain, he had to face his greatest fear—either allow the venom to purge Bella of her humanity, or trust himself to extract it, even though he was salivating at the perfume of her blood.
I didn't smell it. I was trying not to throw up from the strong metallic scent in the room.
But I'm getting ahead of myself. Revenons à nos moutons.
Jasper had said to stay close yet the carnage we had walked in, I thought it would be best if I found a corner and just waited it out. I failed to take into account, that this was no ordinary fight, but a fight between vampires and the entire room was their battleground, so a safe spot seemed moot.
And damn if James didn't notice I was in the room.
You know when they say your life flashes before your eyes when you die? That is not poetic waxing romantic; that is brutal, harsh reality. As Heathcliff and the German fought, there was a flash when Edward went to charge, and James sidestepped him. I shouldn't have been able to see it, given I'm a measly human, but maybe since I really didn't belong in this fictional world, the normal rules of physics didn't apply.
I saw the look of pure thirst in James' eyes. I even saw his nostrils flare as he caught Jasper in his peripheral. One moment in front of me, the next back to fighting with Edward.
I looked down at my left wrist to see a beautiful, symmetrical set of teeth marks on my skin. Even their weapons are eerily decadent.
Merde, he bit me. That was the last thought I had as I crashed to the floor and began my downward spiral through space in a deep, dark void.
Then I heard it.
No longer the clash of vampire fighting vampire, no longer the ear-piercing screams of Bella.
No, it was my family. My parents, my sisters, Sophie & Chloé and brothers – Grégoire & Michel, all around me, joking and laughing, their love enveloping me. I was lying in a bed in a hospital.
Just like I thought on my first morning in Forks.
I was in a Dreamworld. There had been an accident, and I was safely in a hospital in Montreal, my loving family keeping me company.
I could feel Maman brushing my hair and hear my little nieces and nephews happily showing off pictures they had drawn for Tante Anya.
And the pull of them was so strong. This was it! I had made it to the end of the book, and I was home! Like Jake Ziegler, I had survived my Odyssey, the hero and the damsel would have their happily ever after.
I could return to normal.
What about my happily ever after? The thought was so fleeting as I laid there in the in-between that at first, I thought I hallucinated it.
A loud NO echoed around me, and I could feel myself been pushed and battered. There was something happening beyond my control. But I had control, didn't I?
Vampire – mine.
That love and fierce protection that only one individual could emote – Jasper.
My eyes flashed open, and I saw his beautiful face above me. I fully expected to see those gorgeous honey-golden eyes, the ones I had lost myself in over and over, but instead, I was met with two dark pits, staring at me with an intensity that shook me to my core. His lips were smeared with my crimson blood.
He had been forced to make the same decision as Edward—allow the venom to burn or battle his bloodlust to extract just enough of James' poison coursing through me.
But this wasn't just about humanity and souls like it was for Edward and Bella. This was my life. My real life. My actual living, breathing family.
And Jasper took that from me.
While the fall into oblivion that had set all of this in motion was a mere flash, the climb out felt like an eternity.
Was I fully prepared to accept that I no longer had a ticket home to my life? That I would be like my alternate—American Anya—and be forced to live in a world where I was truly orphaned?
My mind was wrestling with this, torn between two realities. I didn't want to lose my family. For good. To never see them again, to never hear their voices, their laughter. And my nieces and nephews—those who had been born in the intervening years? I didn't even have a single photograph or home movie.
It would be like they didn't really exist. They would now become like fictional characters in a book.
Once more, I'd be left as the sole holder of this knowledge, the only one who remembered a world that was slipping away.
But the pull of Jasper… I said I was Team Jasper—it was a hill I was willing to die on. I'd said it during a heated debate in book club over a fictional character. I never thought I would be forced to actually face the consequences of such an inconsequential turn of phrase.
How could Jasper do this to me? He didn't even ask. He didn't even try.
But we had never talked about what happens at the end of the book. I had been so cautious about not giving away too much, about not interfering with the plot.
I thought we had more time. I thought we might have had until at least the end of the series, that we should have had at least another eighteen months—to plan, to decide. To enjoy the fantasy of having Jasper all to myself.
To enjoy sex with an empath, we hadn't even done that yet.
Floating my way to the surface, I could feel his presence drawing nearer, while my family's presence grew fainter and fainter. Every time I thought I could just decide, I would stop.
I was literally frozen, incapable of making a decision. What was the ultimate answer?
Stay in this world, where everything was different, where I was no longer who I had been—or return to a life where Jasper, the man I had fallen in love with returned to being mere words on a page?
The confusion was paralyzing. I had always assumed I'd be along for the ride watch the melodramatic teen love story play out and then happily run off into the sunset to my life back in Montreal. Return to my research and dissertation. All the while I was haunted by those dark eyes, filled with a mixture of love and regret, pulling me further and further from the life I once knew.
I remembered how in one of the books Bella had once stated that she always saw Jasper was blameless and in those heady days a few months earlier I had told Jasper the same. He was never at fault. And yes, within the fictional world of Twilight Jasper would always be blameless in my eyes.
Now, knowing he forced my hand and I had to accept that Montreal was firmly beyond my grasp, I could no longer laze in oblivion. I was nearly at the surface. I had to face the consequences of Jasper's actions that I know were made in a moment of panic and love. He was my happiness and joy and yet now, I would always be fearful in the knowledge, I was stuck in a world with the supernatural with only Jasper to protect me.
Team Jasper to the end.
A/N
Dépêche toi = hurry up!
Aweille is said in an exasperated impatient tone to mean, "move, hurry up" Anya is basically telling Jasper, 'get your ass outta here."
"Revenons a nous moutons" is a French idiom when translated literally is "let's return to our sheep'. What it means is, "let's get back on track / back to the topic at hand etc..."
