Good evening ducklings! I've come down with a spectacular flu, so more notes tomorrow. I got a bunch of different requests for today, so I picked one at random and it was Feral Jasper/Mary-Alice.
But all the suggestions were fun and excellent, so I will be doing a few more snippet posts in January to get them all in <3
Anyway, it's time I got some sleep so I hope you enjoy this part!
As with most things, the time comes for the Cullens to move on. It’s been five years since they arrived in Pennsylvania, and anything longer will invite gossip about the young doctor and his family living in that big old house outside town. They already draw enough attention as it is.
So it’s time to go. Carlisle and Esme decide that privately, out of earshot of the others, before they make the announcement. It’s going to be more difficult this time, because it’s Jasper’s first move. This is the only home that he’s known since they found him, and leaving it will be a strain. They’ve watched him since he arrived here become stronger and more certain in his place amongst them. And this place, this house and the looming forest, played an important role in that. They only have so many properties with grounds this size, that are appropriate for a vampire to roam privately and safely.
But vampires are traditionally nomadic, and just because the scenery and set changes, doesn’t mean anything else will. Esme is convinced she can make Jasper understand that this is necessary and a good thing. Montana will be wonderful; the hunting there is good, and even though they don’t technically own a large parcel of land there, they have a great deal of privacy.
Jasper’s so reasonable, there’s no reason he wouldn’t understand.
None at all.
//
Mary-Alice is perched in the crook of a branch when Jasper shows up. She’s exactly where he left her, except for the fact that she ran into the second-closest town to hunt (Jasper had been unhappy when she admitted to hunting in the nearest town; the Cullens needed complete secrecy and Mary-Alice’s first few hunts made the Cullens worried and suspicious about nomads. She flat-out refused to give up human blood entirely, not when it made her stronger and sharper than animal blood, but she had quickly agreed that running a few more miles to the next appropriate town was not an issue.)
“Jasper.” She immediately abandons her task - weaving together stems and leaves into some kind of coronet. It’s a good task, one that keeps her mind still.
If she didn’t have something to occupy her in the hours Jasper was back with the Cullens, she’d go completely mad worrying that harm had fallen to him, even if she knows with conviction that Emmett would protect Jasper if anything happened. That’s reassuring in a foreign way - she’s never really had anyone to entrust with anything. She’s never really had anything valuable enough to need to protect it, aside from her own life.
(Maria would be laughing at her now. She spent decades trying to crush any sort of emotion or ambition from her people, to know that Mary-Alice spends most of her day on tenterhooks over the safety of her dearest… friend, that would make Maria howl with laughter. She always said that Mary-Alice was too sour and unpleasant to have a mate or a coven or even a friend. No one likes a girl who calculates the force, weight, and trajectory of their decapitation the first time they meet.)
He looks drawn and almost worried when he looks at her, but there’s a softening around his eyes when he spots her - he has to remind himself to relax so often, that she can almost spot the moments he tells himself to calm down.
But Jasper still looking solemn the she lands on the boulder next to him, to do her usual check of his state - he’s washed, his clothing is neat and clean, and his eyes are bright. No changes in the last few hours, which is good. That’s what she wants.
“Mary-Alice.” He reaches out and takes her hand, squeezing it.
They haven’t really talked about the kiss on the cheek. He had caught her by surprise, do that, and she didn’t entirely understand what he meant by that. He’d told her something about saving him, but he was running out of words when he explained, so she didn’t push. But since then, he touches her more often. And yes, she has some rather… feline tendencies as far as curling up against him when they’re alone. Emmett Cullen had laughed at her and asked if she was going to start purring the singular time he’d caught her curling up half on Jasper’s lap. But the touching that Jasper has started doing is something very, very different. He’s holding her hand a lot, touching her hair and her face which makes her edgy, and he’s holding her more, especially before he leaves.
“Something’s wrong,” she says in that same flat voice she greeted him with.
“The Cullens are leaving Pennsylvania.” The strain on his face is suddenly evident and that’s bad. That’s when he starts to struggle the most, with his weakness, his speech, his physical coordination. He’s made amazing strides over the last year, but there is always regression when he’s upset - like when Rosalie Cullen tried to teach him to drive.
“Where are they going?” This isn’t unexpected. It is obvious that they couldn’t maintain a permanent residence in a town this small, especially if Carlisle Cullen was posing as a human. She’s seen little flashes of things, but nothing concrete - mentioning it to Jasper would have been pointless and distressing.
“Montana. Friday. We leave for Montana on Friday.” He’s tugged free of her now, and is pacing. “We’ve driving to Montana, we have to pack the house.” Oh, very distressed - his speech is stilted and repetitive.
“Calm.” She tries to make her voice gentle but she doesn’t think it works very well because he doesn’t even look at her. “Everything will be fine, Jasper.”
“I won’t go without you.” He stops then and has the most stubborn look she’s ever seen on his face. It’s almost cute, the indignant expression and the way he looks directly at her. “I won’t leave you behind.”
She gives him a small smile. “Unless you tell me to go, I’ll follow you wherever you go,” she replies and his stance softens slightly. “Do they still think that I’m a delusion?”
Jasper scowls. A yes, then.
“I wouldn’t like travelling in a vehicle anyway.” She can’t imagine how many things this family has that driving is a necessity. So far, she’s calculated that Jasper has at least twelve sets of clothing, which would be difficult to carry long-term. And that doesn’t even consider any of the books that Jasper has mentioned are in the house. It’s only been two months since Jasper presented her with the little oilskin bag to carry her ‘things’ (a dried flower, a wooden comb, a spare dress) so that she didn’t have to discard anything that wasn’t safe in her pocket. “I’ll run.”
Jasper shakes his head, and there’s a puff of frustration and worry that brushes against her for a split second.
“I could beat the Cullens there,” Mary-Alice reminds him, trying to be reassuring. She’s not very good at it.
“What if you run into trouble?” Jasper is frowning.
“I am trouble.” She doesn’t think that he gets it, honestly. That anyone who runs into her won’t walk away if they decide to pick a fight.
Jasper closes his eyes. “Will you meet them?” He finally asks.
Silence.
She looks into the future, to see what would happen so close to the Cullens move. And the vision flows so easily, it’s practically set in stone.
Carlisle and Esme horrified. Rosalie angry. Edward stoic. Emmett trying desperately to mediate. Montana is cancelled. They’re going to Vermont before settling in somewhere with snow; there are five other vampires there, solemn when the Cullens arrive. They’re trying to lose her, trying to hide Jasper from her, and he’s not recovered enough to be able to stand his ground. Instead, she’s left weaving her way through the country to try and find him again.
“They will spook if I approach them now.”
He sighs and looks down. “I worry about you,” he says simply, and Mary-Alice doesn’t have any idea how to reply to that.
Good night everyone! I am so sleepy, so just a few quick notes (and editing will have to wait til tomorrow because I am about three minutes from being curled up in my bed).
Today's offering is the first private meeting Alice and Jasper have in Anathema. I've had this scene in my head for such a long time, and I need to keep reworking this version to get it perfect. But it's a good start, and I do love exploring how vulnerable and alien this version of Jasper is to humans, to Alice - who is the first person to welcome him closer because she likes him and not out of fear or pity.
I hope you enjoy it, the ask box is still going, and i hope you all have an amazing day today!
I slipped into my bedroom without switching on the light. Dulcie was already tucked up in bed with one of her romance novels, and I knew that Freddie would follow suit as soon as the washing up was done. I also knew neither of them could hear anything that went on in my bedroom from previous experience - mostly all-night marathons of cartoons when my laptop could still reliably stream TV.
Closing the door carefully, and taking the time to jam it shut with an old phone book so that no one could barge in without knocking - I might not have ever been a Girl Guide, but I was always prepared - I walked over to my desk, awkwardly leaning over it to shimmy open the window and call out.
"Jasper?"
It was more of a hiss, really. Not exactly the girlish vision of a balcony scene. And I felt kind of silly - there was the chance I was imagining things. But if I was wrong, no one would hear me, so that made it less ridiculous. And the fact that I was certain that's why my dream and the cards were telling me. No vermin or possums or debris in the roof; Jasper Cullen was, for reasons known only to him (and possibly the future that involved the debasement of the downstairs gurney) hanging out on our roof at night. Specifically, over my window.
And it was completely anti-social, inhuman, and borderline stalker behaviour. Well, total stalker behaviour. But at the same time, he wasn't human. And he had no other way to get to me; I didn't go to school, and I was still under house arrest, even after the debacle with the Lamia. I was sympathetic. The vision of Jasper telling Mrs Cullen that I was the first person to care if he got hurt haunted me. I couldn't imagine being that completely and utterly alone. And I couldn't bear the idea of Jasper, my Jasper, being that alone. Was still that alone.
"Jasper, I know you're there," I hissed again, and waited.
The night was still for a moment before I heard some movement. But instead of him popping into view, there was a blur of movement from the tree next to the house onto the roof-proper.
Well.
Two could play that game.
It was cold tonight and my bedroom seemed to be colder than the rest of the apartment, so I was wearing a long flannel nightgown I’d thrifted. It was deeply unflattering, but so warm; I just looked like some kind of quasi-80s Victorian doll they sold on infomercials. Not exactly the look I wanted when I finally got to talk to Jasper for the first time in private, but I didn’t have time to change or he might leave. I jammed my feet into some shoes beside my desk, and dragged a Forks hoodie over my nightgown before I climbed onto my desk and then out of the window.
There was just enough ledge to balance on my toes and inch along from my window gingerly - immediately regretting my choice of clogs that felt awkward and insecure. But determination won out and I kept inching my way along. The hulking tree that shaded this side of the house was currently the MVP of this debacle - it hid me from view of anyone who might be driving past the funeral home. Nosy neighbours had caught me out a few times over the years, and I didn't really want to add to that list.
Finally having reached the edge of my window, I hoisted myself up by the frame, my fingers clawing for a hold as I somehow manoeuvered myself upwards until I got to the narrow flat roof top, where one Jasper Cullen was looking stunned. Not that I blamed him; it was less 'parkour' that got me up this high, and more 'roadkill frenzy'. The shoes were a bad choice.
"Miss Brandon." His voice is dry again, like he hasn't been talking
"I called out to you," I said grumpily, landing heavily beside him. I'm positive I look insane, with my hair all frizzy and this stupid nightgown. It even had ruffled cuffs and collar that were poking out of the hoodie.
I should have altered it when I bought it. It was just so snug.
"I heard you," Jasper looks down. "I didn't expect you to follow me."
"Neither did I," I reply. "It was a spur-of-the-moment decision." He's here. Right here, with me, and there are no witnesses, no nosy adults eavesdropping, and… just the two of us.
Jasper looks younger up-close. More fragile, like he's being held together by luck and determination, and the next terrible thing could tear him open. He somehow looks more and less human, sitting beside me trying not to look at me.
"Why are you here?" I asked quietly, tucking my hands inside my sleeves. "I just… want to know why you've been creeping around the roof of my house without saying anything."
And suddenly the daisy in the water glass on my nightstand makes sense. We didn't have any blooming daisies, but it could have easily been snuck in by a supernatural guest.
"I didn't want to scare you," he says after a pause. "I just wanted to make sure you were safe."
"You didn't scare me. It's just easier to get to know someone when you talk to them," I span to face him, crossing my legs to keep them under my nightgown - it was cold on the roof. "And I am safe. Most things that come through this area don't venture into town. They don't want to risk being caught."
"No, that's… I was worried your people were upset at the last two meetings," Jasper looks at me. "Mad at you."
"Oh!" I sit back. "No, no one would hurt me. Just a lot of yelling and house arrest. Freddie said that having my jeans ruined by lamia puke was worse than any punishment he could think up."
"You had a bruise on your face at the meeting. It's gone now." Jasper sounded uncertain and it was a strange tone for this stoic guy to use. Both times we had met, he had seemed like a half-wild creature, something much older and more dangerous than I could comprehend. In my visions, there was an energy to him - serious but affectionate and he had this energy about him, almost a playfulness around me. But here and now, he was ill-at-ease but trying desperately to keep it together.
"I fainted in the prep room," I said. "I hit my head. No one is hurting me, Jasper, I promise."
His shoulders relaxed an infinitesimal amount. "I shouldn't be here," he murmured. "Rose is going to kill me. They all told me to stay away from you until Carlisle met with them."
"We don't have to tell them. It can just be our secret," I say quickly, and the way he looks at me is something that I could get used to. I just want to reach out and touch him - push his hair off his face, or run my fingers over the thin scar on his cheek.
"You don't have to protect me," he said. "It's my fault."
"I want to." I want to touch your hair, I want to curl up in your lap, I want to kiss you.
"You're very young," he said doubtfully, but I could hear the waver in his voice.
"I'm nearly seventeen." Roughly, at least. "And we can take it slowly; get to know each other." My inner voice was having a hissy-fit; I needed to encourage him to get closer, not to negotiate some slow trickle to 'friendship'. I had an appointment with this boy on the gurney downstairs, and not the kind that required formaldehyde.
I could almost feel the uncertainty rolling off Jasper.
"Is anyone going to hurt you?" I asked softly. None of the Cullens looked like they would be into violence, but I had also seen the headlock that Emmett Cullen had put Jasper in when he had approached me the first time.
"No, no. The Cullens are good people. None of them know how to fight at all," he says. "I just… they did a lot for me. Do a lot for me. I don't want to make things difficult."
"And I'm difficult?"
He chuckles. "I couldn't have seen you coming in a hundred lifetimes." He looks directly at me. They don't want me to hurt you."
//
Getting off the roof is a lot scarier than going up, I realise as I lean over to sort of scramble down to the guttering. It looks a lot more like a fall that could do some serious harm from this angle. But there's no other way to get down from here, and if I get cut up on the roof tiles, there's a first aid kit in the bathroom.
And a vampire watching me with a frown.
As I crawl backwards - it seems like a good idea to go back down facing the roof - my right clog slips right off my foot, rolling down the roof, bouncing off the guttering and landing in the flowerbed below. I gasp as soon as I lose it, instinctively reaching over to grab it, and the only thing that stops me from following it to the ground is that suddenly Jasper has a fistful of my hoodie, hurling me back up next to him.
"Alice!" It was the most reaction I think I've ever gotten out of him - horrified and exasperated, looking at me like I had just dangled myself over a lions' pit. I would've been fine; I'd fallen out of the tree next to us once when I was younger - I had had grand plans for a Victorian treehouse I could access through my window, and had hauled up planks of wood for the flooring but failed to remember to secure them to the tree. A broken arm (that had healed cleanly in two weeks), fourteen stitches in my head, and a concussion had been the result. å
I'm expecting Jasper to scold me, to read me the riot act of being an idiot - both Freddie and Sue had yelled at me for forgetting to think in the past, and Dulcie usually told me that I didn't have the sense God gave a jellyfish, but he's staring at me, his hand still clenched in the fabric of my hoodie.
"I didn't mean to scare you," I said tentatively.
"You need to be more careful," Jasper said flatly, his voice devoid of emotion. "I can't… you can't get hurt, okay?"
I watch him, watch the play of emotions ripple across his face - frustration, worry, shame, and something I can't decipher.
"I'll be careful," I said, my voice soft and apologetic. "But can you lift me down? I don't think I can get back down by myself."
He looks at me, stunned - I keep surprising this boy - and he nods. Gingerly, I stand up; I am on the roof of a three story building, and the flat space isn't exactly huge. Jasper stands easily, releasing my hoodie to move closer, his arms extended to catch me if I slip.
"Are you ready?" he asks, and I nod.
I'm not sure what I expect, but all of a sudden, I'm swept into a bridal carry. My arms automatically wrap around his neck, and for a second we're just looking at each other. It's ridiculous and corny and cliche, but that's it. There was no stopping this from happening from the very second that I saw him in the woods, but this moment, with his arms cradling me so carefully, this is the moment that I know that Jasper Cullen is my future.
"Ready." I sound a little breathless, even to my own ears. I'm also not expecting to be freefalling for a split second, enough that my head is spinning and I gasp for air. I have no idea the exact jump he made, how he managed it, but in two seconds Jasper is setting me on my feet inside of my bedroom.
I ruin it by half falling backwards onto my bed, disorientated.
"Are you okay? I made sure your neck was supported?" he asked, immediately looming over me.
"It was so fast," I gasped, sitting up again. "How did you get us both through the window?" I thought of the weird little seal-wiggle I'd had to manage to get through on my own.
"Jumped," he answers, still inspecting me.
"I'm okay," I reassure him. "My neck's fine." That makes him relax, and I am once again intrigued by what he knows of humans, what he remembers of humanity.
"You need to get some sleep," he says, standing straight but keeping his eyes on the floor.
"Thank you for getting me off the roof, Jasper," I say, managing to stand up. Feeling bold, I reach out and grab his hand to squeeze it. "Maybe you can come by again?"
He looks at our joined hands and nods slowly. "I can come back." It almost sounds like he's asking a question.
//
I roll over the next morning, still in the hoodie. My window is open a crack, and there's feeble sunshine peering from behind the curtains that I've left knotted up.
And balanced on my window sill, with a little blue flower picked from the lawn resting on the toe, was my missing shoe.
Which submitted prompt should I add to the calendar this year?
There were lots of good suggestions this year so I figured we could work together to pick which one(s) to add!
Which prompt is your fav?
Valerie is forced to give Phantom a secret Santa gift
What do you mean a human kid rode back on the sled with you guys into the Zone?!
Frostbite shows Phantom the Far Frozen's Truce traditions
Global Christmas, Dani style.
It's Danny's turn to host the Christmas truce, but he doesn't have a liar...
catching snowflakes on your tongue
Dash is...dashing through the snow.
New Year’s Resolution
Group White Elephant Game
Deciding between sugar and salt.
Damon Grey teams up with the Fenton's to gift his daughter a ghost
Due to a blizzard, the Fenton family is stuck inside all day
Voting ended onNov 26, 2024
Note: I did have to reword a few of these because apparently there's a character limit in poll options (who knew)
Please reblog with your propaganda for your choices! I'd love to see it!!
The full prompts are below the cut
Through a fortunate series of events, Valerie is forced to give Danny Phantom a secret Santa gift.
What do you mean a human kid rode back on the sled with you guys into the Ghost Zone!?!
Frostbite shows Phantom the Far Frozen's Truce traditions
Global Christmas, Dani style.
It's Danny's turn to host the Christmas truce. Apparently it's law that it must be in his lair, but he doesn't have one in the ghost zone. Now he has to figure out what to do about his ghost hunting parents.
catching snowflakes on your tongue
Dash is...dashing through the snow.
New Year’s Resolution
Deciding between sugar and salt.
Damon Grey has had enough of seeing his daughter unhappy, so he teams up with the Fentons to give his daughter the best gift ever - a ghost.
Due to a blizzard, the Fenton family is stuck inside all day
Just a quick note: we've just discovered a tick on my dog, so we're headed to the emergency vet. For this reason, today's fic will be a 2-parter because I ran out of time to edit.
This is an STL AU, where Maria never goes to Calgary, so Mary-Alice never leaves, and James manages to pique Jasper's conscience Just something a little bit wholesome for the holiday season. I hope you enjoy!
The air still tastes the same down in Mexico. Hot, laced with salt and sand and a coppery edge courtesy of the Wars. He’s not sure that humans would even know what it was.
But it was a beacon for any va
mpire in the area - a warning and an invitation, all wrapped up together.
(He doesn’t miss it. Once upon a time, he thought he would. He thought he would long for that rotten house, and the vicious pleasure of fighting and killing and winning. That he would cling tight to the civility of the Cullen family with everything he had because the lure of turning back and going home again would constantly whisper in his ear. The blood whispers and lures him, but the South? The wars? Maria? Not even once.)
Emmett looks at him silently. It’s just the two of them right now - Rose is back in San Antonio, furious with them both. But it was the smart move to leave her there; Jasper doesn’t want Rosalie anywhere near any armies or scouts. He didn’t even want her to come down to Texas but it was, apparently, non-negotiable.
(“It’s about a fifty-fifty split,” Emmett had admitted, rubbing his neck. “Fifty-percent making sure you get out alive and don’t get any dumbass ideas about staying. And… fifty-percent to piss off Ed. Well, maybe forty-nine percent. Pretty sure she’s more worried about you than annoyed at Edward but she won’t admit that.”)
The ground crunches underneath his boots, and he’s almost expecting his old - younger - self to come slinking out, ready to kill without a second thought or even breaking his stride. Perhaps even shadowed by dirty, bloody-eyed newborns.
(He shouldn’t have come.)
“What’s the plan?” Emmett’s voice is serious and quiet, waiting for direction. And it jars him back into reality - Emmett should not be here. This is not a place his brother should ever set foot. He feels foolish and cruel to have brought him along. He should have left Emmett with Rose.
He wants to tell Emmett to go back to San Antonio; get the fuck out of all the territory that Maria doesn’t hold anymore. Or even just to wait by the car. That he was Major Whitlock of Monterrey, and he can walk this graveyard alone.
Except…
“Peter said the place was gone, but I wanted to see for myself,” he says, swallowing hard. “We need to go down to San Fernando to find them. I just… wanted to see the old place.”
“You want company?” Somehow, Emmett always knows the right thing to say. He nods once, and they walk in silence.
(The gravel under their boots crunches like the bones he knows are buried beneath them. It doesn’t take long to find what remains of his past, and he’s mostly surprised at how small the farm was. Is. The shell of the old mansion is little more than the stoop of an old spine cradling what remains of the burnt ruins. The ground is stained black, underneath the weight of vines and plants that are swallowing the place whole, but most of the debris has long since disintegrated into ash and blown away.)
There’s not much to see, truly. Peter had mentioned that Maria had burnt everything before she’d left; refusing to leave even the ghost of an advantage when she was being forced out.
There are only shells of buildings - the barn is long gone, as are most of the other outbuildings. The few identifiable items - a bucket, a chair, an old picture frame with only a single determined shard of scratched and cracked glass clinging on - are scattered throughout the ground and long grass, and won’t be around much longer.
A rotting wooden pillar at the edge of the farm is still standing, with some scraps of ragged fabric - indistinguishable, and some little more than threads - clinging on valiantly. Jasper remembers when they were strung - scraps of clothing from newborns fallen in battle that the survivors would bring back. A memorial for people who wouldn’t be remembered beyond the week’s end. A reminder of what happened if you were too slow. A crude list of the dead, for anyone looking for an absent ally or lover once the pieces were burned.
Carlisle warned him, once, that you can’t go home again. And he’s never really understood that until right now. Home is - was - a nebulous concept. There hasn’t ever been a time when he thought of the Monterrey mansion as ‘home’. But standing here, it really was. Once upon a time, this was his home. And now it’s just a giant grave. Not just for the bodies, not just for the newborns that outlived their usefulness. But for every single one of them, right down to him and Maria.
Except…
There’s no rage here. It’s all gone. The violence, the grief, the bloodshed has all gone away. He expected something accusatory, for the guilt and shame to settle around him like a mantle. For the metaphorical blood to seep from the ruins, for the ghosts to appear before his eyes to demand an explanation, a justification. The cemetery he expected was never waiting for him, for any of them, to come back and make peace with it all.
For all his guilt and fear, Monterrey - his version of Monterrey - has been at peace for a long, long time. And that should be comforting.
(The dread is building, the dread of what San Fernando holds. Monterrey - the house - might be at rest, but its ghosts are still out there, still tangled up in all of the misery.)
They don’t stay long, and Emmett doesn’t speak until they get back to the car. And Jasper wonders if it wasn’t so peaceful for Emmett. Emmett, whom has never fought a day in his second life. Whose human life was punctuated by poverty, but never the kind of cruelty and casual evil that Monterrey doled out. If perhaps, what Jasper saw as a sleeping giant was really a horror story in Emmett’s eyes.
(Was it gravel under their feet, or the bones of feeding the army, burrowing back to the surface? Was he kicking rocks and wood free of their path, or were they the mandibles of a young women, the tibia of a lost father?)
He takes a breath before he speaks, unable to look Emmett in the face.
“It’s better now.” The words are unsteady, and Jasper regrets speaking. I need you to know I’m more afraid of what you think and what we’re about to find than I am of anything we just witnessed.
He’s glad Edward didn’t come with them.
(He’s trying not to think about what comes next. What he’s going to find in a place that came after his tenure, that is totally foreign to him. Where rags on a post won’t mean anything, where the dirt will smell and taste different, and where the house still stands upright stuffed full of stories and horrors and every single thing that it’s ever heard.)
—
Once, sometime in the early 70s, Maria plans to go to Calgary.
(She sees it.)
There’s no future where the Major returns to them. There’s only one slim, ephemeral future where he gets hurt in the confrontation and it’s not even worth dwelling on. There’s more battles, ones where she has to piece herself back together and wash all the wounds away with blood. Ones that burrow into her head and bones with how much uglier they are now. Or maybe she’s just so very tired.
But three days before Maria is meant to leave, Valeria decides to throw down the gauntlet. Something so foolish, so dangerous, so ugly, that there will be no journey to taunt the Major and his new coven.
(It’s swift and it’s absolute. Maria executes Valeria without ceremony, just a blunt summary of her stupidity. Mary-Alice breaks down the bodies into manageable pieces before she burns them, and comforts herself with the fact that at least she has new clothes that fit now.)
Maria stays away from Calgary, but none of them are ever the same after that.
—
It wasn’t supposed to be anything. They saved Bella Swan from James. She was just a kid who strayed too close to something that was far bigger and far more terrible than she could comprehend. A crash course for his family of precisely what the Major of Monterrey is-was capable of, stretching out long-dormant muscles. The result is as he predicted - a badly injured but living Bella Swan, and James is just dust in a condemned ballet studio.
(“It happened once, oh, ages ago. The one and only time my prey escaped me…” He listens to it once, James’ little recording of Bella’s suffering, of James weaving the tale of the newborn he abandoned in the woods after killing their maker. And he thinks of another foundling, of bright red eyes and the innocent joy in her smile at his approach. The thought burrows under his skin and whilst he thinks of her regularly - his very own private haunting - he allows himself to wonder where exactly she is right in that moment.)
After Bella returns from Phoenix, bundled up in bandages and a cast that seems to be half the size of her, she’s always there. Always at the house, smelling of blood and life. Always with Edward, tucked in a corner of the house. There’s a constant trickle of joy and affection and happiness from her - from them both - when she’s present. And if she’s not present, neither is Edward. He prefers to spend his nights tucked beside her in bed or - at best - perched on her roof like a sentinel.
(He tries to ignore it. It seems like the best course of action, not to dwell on it. He’s lived with Rose and Emmett, and Carlisle and Esme so long that all the romantic feelings shouldn’t prick at him like this. Except he joined them years after both couples got together; even if immortal love doesn’t ebb, there is a certainty to it after a few decades. The feeling that the bond is forged and unbreakable. It doesn’t feel the same as the spark of delight and adoration that Bella and Edward emit just from sitting across from each other.)
Esme is bubbling over with happiness now that Edward has found his other half. She can’t do enough to make Bella comfortable, and constantly checks up on the couple.
And maybe she catches him, staring off into space as Edward and Bella tease each other over the chess board; maybe she takes note of the blank expression he takes to wearing outside of his study - not because of anything he wants to hide, per se, but because he doesn’t want to think about the emotions.
(Everything smells like human blood, and he lets the rest of the family believe that its the scent that is causing his brooding. It’s easier that way.)
Good evening everyone! Definitely lost track of time and this was later than I was going to upload but alas, here we are.
Today's is Damaged Alice. Fun fact with this: I cannot, for the life of me, find the original post I made for this fic. I have trawled my blog, searched it, manually gone through all my postings and I cannot find it. So I can't even reupload what I've already posted because I don't know what I've posted.
So I've gone in blind. This is for the New Moon-era of the fic, just kind of riffing on both sides. I had a very clear view of Alice finding herself and her history which is a very liberal and broad use of mental healthcare from the 20s, because Meyer is a twit who did zero research. We're going with the idea that Alice's doctors were racing the Italians towards new, innovative treatments for mental health and were testing their theories out on wards of the state.
There's also a lot of little details about Jasper and Alice's relationship here which I am obsessed with and are pretty much the entire reason I started this 'verse. It's the little things, I swear.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy it, and I will be catching up on my inbox tomorrow because I need 12 hours of uninterrupted sleep tonight or I might cry (again.) Ahh, the holiday season <3
---
Ithaca is quiet. That’s the best way he can describe it.
Moving is always difficult for Alice; they all blame her visions, but she thrives in routine. He always jokes that it’s not his level of control that keeps him from slipping, it’s that he hates making her move before it’s time. As Esme and Edward always remind the others, Alice needs the security and certainty of her five years in each home.
So the Cullen departure from Forks on Edward’s demand should have been disastrous. Rose and Emmett are leaving for Europe directly, which has been planned for months. Esme already has a house waiting in Ithaca that she’s been looking forward to restoring, so it seems like the best choice - right across the country with new names and stories. They can be there in a day.
Alice is stressed, but not in a bad way. She complains to Edward, that it’s not fair, and that Bella’s going to suffer. That Victoria’s still out there and this isn’t the way to deal with it. He’s hurting Bella worse doing this.
(And he can feel the guilt leaking out of her, that if things were different, Bella wouldn’t have gotten hurt. She still won’t tell him what she saw that night, before it all went sour, but Bella has a dozen stitches up her arm and a wicked bruise across her chest and now they have to leave her behind.)
Edward is grieving and despite an infinite well of affection and patience for Alice, the spike of rage when Alice tells him that he’s making things worse for Bella is enough that Jasper thinks that Edward might slap her and ends the conversation with a look.
“You have to pack, love,” he reminds her and Alice screws up her face and stomps off to her room. Edward grunts his thanks that Jasper has ended the conversation and disappears into the bowels of the house to brood.
Jasper has no illusions about his youngest brother; they will be returning to Forks. It really just depends on how long Edward can play martyr (and if it’s long enough that Bella outgrows him) or how long Victoria hides in the shadows. It’s really easier just to agree and get on with Edward’s dramatic pantomime of star-crossed lovers rather than argue with him.
Alice paces a lot, in-between packing. She hates being micromanaged, so he casually packs his things at the same time, tossing in the items that she almost always forgets but needs. Not to mention the things that she’s going to want when the stress of everything fades, and she can think clearly - there have been a few forgotten phones and more than a few forgotten laptops over the years. And Esme’s practiced at making sure certain things - particular blankets, clothing items, furniture, books - are present at every single house to prevent disaster for all of them, but especially for Alice.
(It’s 1976, and Alice is having a very, very bad day. It’s the worst one he’s ever had to handle on his own. She’s staring unseeing at the corner, trembling. She hasn’t responded to him in any way - not when he called her name, touched her hand, used his gift. Her emotions are churning to the point that he cannot separate them enough to make a difference. And there’s a blanket, an ocean blue one that Esme found at some street vendor in New Hampshire, that helps. They’ve dragged it from place to place for years, Esme carefully re-stitching the fraying edges, adding more panels to the bottom half for reinforcement. But he cannot find it and he has a sinking feeling that it has been left in Montana, tossed carelessly over a chair in his study. Everyone is away and he’s been trusted with Alice alone for the first time, he needs to fix this.)
So, somehow they manage to make it to Ithaca. Somehow, Alice stays calm - she spends the drive in the passenger seat, focused on crocheting a fall poncho that he knows is a way for her to keep her hands busy.
“You wanna talk?” He asks gently.
She shakes her head. “Uh-uh.”
He waits for the breakdown. For the panic attack, and the desperate need to cling to him for a day or two. For blank eyes and days of no words. Especially when they get to Ithaca, and the house is different. It’s a new acquisition, there’s no furniture installed yet.
But nothing.
So he shouldn’t be that shocked when, after three weeks of haunting the mostly-empty house (it’s very, very strange to be alone with Esme and Carlisle. Edward has been a fixture for so long, it’s downright bizarre for there to be only four of them), Alice takes off. There’s a sticky-note on his computer screen that he finds when he gets back from classes.
Going to Mississippi to find myself. Will be back soon. Will be careful. Love you.
(The only upside is that he gets to freak out and calm down before Esme and Carlisle get home, are informed, and he has to talk them out of a panic. All three of them panicking about Alice’s whereabouts at the same time would not have been helpful.)
//
She finds herself in an abandoned hospital slated for demolition within months. There’s not much left of it - there was a fire in the 60s that wiped out the main building. Since then, it’s been left to rot, and there’s a lot of legal and media attention on the hundreds of unnamed bodies buried on its grounds.
It doesn’t feel like a place that she wants to be. Esme and Carlisle are always very clear that if she’s uncomfortable, she needs to leave. If she forces herself to stay somewhere, she’ll get upset.
(‘Upset’ is a euphemism for a lot of things. It can mean crying, it can mean biting, it can mean that she’s not going to talk for the rest of the day. Carlisle just tells her that she’s a very sensitive girl, and it’s okay. She’s doing so much better than when she first joined them, and that he’s proud of her. But sometimes it’s hard to believe that when the high school teachers and students are calling her names behind her back, telling her that she’s a burden to the Cullens. So she tries really hard not to get upset.)
Jasper is definitely upset that she went alone. It’s the first time she’s gone alone anywhere. Well, that’s not true. Jasper used to let her go places - once, he pretended they were going to Seattle for a weekend when he let her fly to New York City alone to buy a dress. He said that she could do it by herself and that it was important that she tried, in case he wasn’t around.
(She got upset at that because, frankly, the idea of Jasper not being around is the worst thought ever. He’s been around since she opened her eyes, even if it was just as pictures in her head. The moon might as well fall out of the sky if anything takes Jasper away from her.)
But this is the first time it wasn’t planned out, the first time he hasn’t known exactly where she was going, the first time she hadn’t gone over it with him and her visions to make sure it went smoothly.
It’s definitely the first time she’s been on her own for more than a day in a very long time. Sometimes she thinks that the Cullens forget that she was alone until she found them, and she was okay then.
(She wishes Jasper was here right now.)
The files she would have found at the University Hospital Library were frustratingly incomplete, but the librarian she would have asked would have told her that they ran out of funding to finish digitalizing them, and that a lot of stuff in storage from the old asylum had never even been moved - too expensive.
(And then she would have gotten caught as not being a student of the university, and there would have been a fuss because she might have remembered to bring almost everything she needed but she definitely only has her Forks High student I.D. and a Washington state driver’s license that says she’s under eighteen. It was better just to do that through very monotonous, careful visions and skip the in-person visit.)
There’s an old statue in the middle of the long grass behind a cracked and forgotten fountain, and she’s got an uncomfortable feeling that she’s seen it before, when it was taken care of. Which makes sense. She knows this is where she was before she was changed. She’s even got a short list from the internet of eight different girls that she might have been.
It takes her over an hour to navigate the hospital, because it is upsetting her. It’s dark instead, and everything is broken and rotten and forgotten. It makes her chest feel tight, and like there’s something in the dark she really, really doesn’t want to find.
(There is, but she also has to find it. James is dead and gone, and anything else in the dark she can fight herself. Plus she knows that Esme put a GPS tracker inside her necklace, and Jasper tracks her phone. She can’t get lost again, they made sure of it.)
It’s a room in the basement where she finds what she’s looking for. There’s a good inch of murky, standing water, and for a moment, she’s worried that anything she’s looking for will be destroyed. But maybe she’s lucky.
(‘B’ is at the top of the alphabet, so it s in the top drawer, where the water can’t get to. ‘Mary-Alice Brandon’ is the fourth name on her list, and the second youngest.)
The filing cabinet is rotten, and most of the files are moldy and disintegrating. Only a few of the surviving files are still legible. But she finds it in the end. It is thick and worn, but she takes it up the old stairs to the light, and spreads the pages out.
She is a child in the first photo, a girl with long black braids and wide eyes. She looks haunted and miserable, and is clutching a doll with a death-grip. Little Mary-Alice is so very young. Too young.
There are four more photographs – one of her nude as a child, bruises blooming all over her legs and torso. Then one of her older, clad in a thin hospital gown, with the most frightened eyes Alice has ever seen. Another, when she is closer to when she was changed; her hair is only a little shorter, and the way she looks at the camera is strange and not right.
The final one makes her sick. It makes her stomach twist and she doesn’t want to look at it. But she has to. It’s one that shows hideous black stitches curving along her bald skull, her eyes empty as she slumps in a wheel-chair. She is so thin in the final photograph, her bones jut from her body. There is an ugly scar on her belly and dozens of bruises all over her.
The notes are handwritten and faded, but she deciphers what she can, and they tell a hideous story that leaves her shaking – Mary-Alice Brandon. Born 28th February, 1901. Admitted September 4th 1911. State custody. Schizophrenia. Hysteria. Metrazol program. Electoplexy Protocol. Lobotomy. Hysterectomy.
(Mary-Alice Brandon died on September 4th, 1911. That’s what the internet said - pneumonia. She’s buried in Biloxi, a footnote on a family grave.)
She wants to call Jasper (“I think I was made like this, not born like this. I don’t understand.”) and have him come find her. She could except she’s not sure she can speak without screaming. She’s not even sure if she can stand up and leave.
Breathe in.
(She can’t. She stays there, trembling, all of the night, trying to wrap her head around those photographs. Trying to understand what she’s seeing, and to forget every single thing she knows about old-fashioned medicine.)
Breathe out.
(Oh. This is going to upset Carlisle a lot. Like the book on the Spanish Influenza or that whole magazine article about Rosalie’s disappearance.)
Breathe in.
(She wishes Jasper was here.)
Breathe out.
(Her head hurts so bad.)
Breathe in.
(Jasper made her a recording. He was going to spend a few days with Peter and Charlotte, and she was worried. He put it on her phone. It’s stupid and she shouldn’t need it but it always, always helps. Just Jasper calmly telling her that he loves her, and he’ll see her soon, and everything will be okay. It’s still on her phone, and her headphones are in her bag. He always reminds her to pack them, even though they don’t block everything out because they’re designed for humans. And maybe, maybe, putting them on and pressing play is what she needs. Maybe it feels like she can breathe a little more, even with those photos still spread out in front of her. One step at a time.)
Is it normal for me to drop 8k of fic on Ficmas? It is not.
But I am so tired that I have tapped out tonight (my sister's dog expects very late nights and very early starts and I am not great company before 8am), and today's post will be edited and posted tomorrow.
So tonight I give you the OG Hybrid Baby-verse fic. The full draft clocks in at 22k, but this is the part that is okay being seen by human eyes for a bit of a laugh.
This original version is extremely different to what I've decided to go with. I changed a lot of things to better fit the characters and the plot - like, Jasper being around for the pregnancy, Maria being more aggressive towards Alice, and a lot of world-building that occurs in this section.
Honestly, this is just an example of how sometimes you can write 22k of something and none of it is usable for the project. But you learn so much about the character and the story that it was worth every single word.
So I hope you enjoy this throwback (it has to be at least 7+ years old), and I will see you tomorrow!
warning: some very mild sexual content.
Jasper was stunned when I told him, but it hadn’t taken much to convince him – there was a heartbeat, and my scent had changed slightly. He had… freaked out, trying to get away from me, pacing the room manically, muttered and babbled at me as I perched on the couch, waiting til he calmed down. Hopefully, sooner rather than later – I was starving again, and I’d actually lost weight despite the fact that I was eating everything within my eye line. It was lucky that I could sneak over to the Cullens and eat out of their fridge so that Dad and Simon had no clue exactly how much food I was putting away. Simon was still convinced he’d left a bag of groceries in the cart by accident.
“How?” Jasper looked at me desperately, running his hands through his hair.
“The usual way?” I shrugged, and Jasper moved closer to me, hovering, like he couldn’t touch me. “Carlisle thinks that the venom makes us compatible, and my humanity makes me fertile. Plus, my body is used to adapting to dramatic changes. Combine that with the ‘magical Saturday’ we drove your entire family out of the house? Voila.”
“Carlisle knows?” Jasper said urgently.
“I knew something was wrong, but I didn’t think it was this…” I gestured at my stomach. “He’s a doctor, and he understands my body has… quirks.”
“Good. Good. He can look after you,” Jasper was pacing again, looking exactly like a panicked teenage boy who’d just been given world-changing news. Take away the fact he’d fought in the Civil War, that’s exactly what he was. I was sorry I hadn’t filmed it for future teasing. “What did he say?”
“Congratulations, everything looks fine, if slightly more advanced. He wants to ‘monitor me’ closely,” I said, repeating Carlisle’s words. “At this rate, he estimates the pregnancy should last around sevenish months, but he’ll get a better idea when I hit the halfway point.”
“A baby.” Honestly, Jasper looked like a cat that had gotten an electric shock.
“A baby,” I agreed, unfolding my legs and lying on the couch.
“You’re seventeen, Alice,” Jasper moved closer to me. “What… how do you feel?”
“Freaked out, amused,” I said. “Worried and bewildered and waiting for someone else to make all the choices for me. Carlisle’s not convinced that… it’s too late to abort, and Carlisle thinks the baby is going to be strong. And I can’t put the baby up for adoption because it’s going to be the child of a vampire and a half-hybrid.”
“You don’t want the baby,” Jasper murmured, and I felt the stand of despair flow from him before he got control of his gift.
“No, that’s not what I meant. I’m eighteen in three weeks, this isn’t what I was expecting,” I said gently. “And there’s a part of me that still wants the freedom to be able to run if I need to. That wants this to go away because its permanent and scary.
“Would I get an abortion if it was an option? I’d give it serious consideration, with your input – and Carlisle’s, because he’d probably be the only one prepared to do the surgery. I would have liked to be older, out of high school and maybe college. Safer. But it’s happened now and I’m trying to get my head around it. I want to say you’re stuck with me, but if this is too much, too weird, I can go.”
“Alice, there is nothing you can do that will make me not want you at my side,” Jasper was pulling me up from the couch and into his arms. “Nothing in my mind. I love you, and that is never going to change. And I never, ever expected a family to be a possibility for us.
“But if this isn’t something you want, we can… can fix this. Rosalie and Emmett would give their left arms to raise a child. No one would think less of you if you chose that.”
I pressed against him and closed my eyes. “I know. But I don’t know if I could do that. Live watching my baby calling someone else Mommy. I… I never wanted a baby, but now I have this, I kind of want it, but only if you’re with me.”
“I ain’t going anywhere, darlin’,” he kissed my head, and I hid my smile as his hand slid down to my belly. A little firmer, but no visible bump yet. I snuggled in and for a moment, I was just wrapped in Jasper’s bubble of emotion – love and anticipation and nervousness.
When I finally pulled away, I was feeling better. “I hate to ruin this beautiful moment, but we have to work out how to tell the rest of your family, how to tell my family, how we’re going to approach it, and I am starving.”
Jasper laughed, and pulled me back. “Let’s find you food, and then we’ll discuss the rest.”
//
Our plan was simple. There was six weeks of school left before summer, and with careful wardrobe decisions, I could conceal my condition – I didn’t want anyone gossiping, and the Cullens preferred to fly under the radar. After the baby was born healthy, we’d make some decisions. Jasper, Edward and I were all seniors next year, whilst Emmett and Rose had formally graduated – meaning that we could call upon Esme, Rose and Emmett to baby sit whilst we were at school. Jasper was contemplating ‘graduating early’ under the guise of early acceptance, but I didn’t want to be left at school alone – and my patchy school record meant that there was no way I would be getting out before next June.
Jasper seemed pretty confident Rosalie would be happy to baby-sit, Esme too. After we graduated, they were already planning on moving to somewhere in New York state, and many of the art school options I was looking at were in the same area. It made sense that I would - could - go with them.
As for my family, we were going to lie and say that I was already three months along and I just hadn’t noticed anything amiss until recently. I didn’t know Dad and Simon well enough to predict their reaction – but Jasper assured me that Esme would cut off her own nose before she cast me out.
The circle of those in the know would be limited – the Cullens, my family and Bella Swan, simply because she was always at the house, and Edward wouldn’t keep a secret from her. I’d spend the summer going between the Cullens and my house – I already had a huge list of reasons to give Dad and Simon for my constant absence that would require constant monitoring from Carlisle.
I thought, when I told the Cullens, that I knew how they’d react. I thought Rose would throw a shit fit, Edward would be smug that he and Bella were above such ‘mistakes’, Emmett would make vulgar jokes, Esme would be delighted and Carlisle would be himself – steady yet cautious.
I was way off the mark.
“Pregnant?” Esme repeated, everyone gaping at me. “Oh my…”
Edward looked terrified, Emmett was imitating a fish and Rosalie… Rosalie looked liked I’d flash-fried a kitten in front of her. If possible, she was even paler and she looked like she was about to burst into tears.
“Whose is it?” Emmett said suddenly, seriously and Rosalie seemed to relax slightly.
“It’s mine,” Jasper’s response was gentle, and I realised he was feeling whatever Rosalie was, and it was bad.
“Alice’s unique genetic make-up allows her body to adapt to foreign material,” Carlisle broke in, and the compassion for his daughter was almost tangible. “This is completely unheard of – had Alice or Jasper come to me with concerns, I would have dismissed the idea.”
“A baby,” Rosalie was staring at a point on the floor, her face completely blank.
“Wow,” was all Emmett said, but his gaze was on Rosalie.
This was terrible. I had expected anger and scorn, maybe some happiness. But this was pure misery – from Rosalie, and from Esme, who looked quite small and sad next to Carlisle who was holding her hand.
And I stood there, trying to think of something to say that would help. That would explain that I hated myself for causing them this pain, but I needed them all to get me through this. That there was no way that Jasper and I could do this without the rest of them.
“I’m going to be sick,” I announced, and fled into the kitchen to empty my stomach – half a gallon of milk, two sandwiches and a muffin – into the sink. Ugh. I could hear the low hum of their voices in the lounge room, but was more focused on emptying my stomach of everything that had offended it so. Fuck, there was the half-can of tuna and the salad I’d scoffed, and the yoghurt… I was starving all the time, but having it all come back up was enough to convince me to stick to crackers and tea for the rest of my life.
Within a few moments, I’d pulled a can of ginger ale from the fridge, and was lying on the kitchen floor with the can pressed to my face. My stomach was absolutely empty, and I’d rinsed the disgusting mess down the drain.
My phone was buzzing in my pocket and I pulled it out.
“Hello?”
“Alice? It’s Simon. I’m headed home and wanted to know if you wanted a ride.”
“Please,” I said.
“Be there in ten minutes, kiddo.”
I dragged myself off the floor, and padded out to the lounge room. Rosalie was wrapped in Emmett’s arms, and Esme was sitting beside her, clasping both her hands.
“I’m going,” I said, offering a half-wave, and grabbing my bag from beside the couch.
“Alice,” Jasper was staring at me in horror, guiding me to a couch, Carlisle moving towards me with an equally concerned look.
“I’m fine, I just puked up everything I ate, and there was a lot,” I said as he pushed me down. Edward wordlessly offered me a mirror that he’d pulled from my bag – purple-black circles underscored both my eyes, my face was pale and waxy, and utterly colourless. I looked like a reanimated corpse.
“Do you feel okay?” Carlisle said seriously, as he checked my pulse.
“Tired and pukey,” I said, cradling my ginger ale. “Kind of warm, too. Simon’s about to pick me up.”
“This is a good lead in,” Edward interrupted. “She goes home looking sick, in a few days, give them the news. It’ll look natural and less of a set-up.”
“True,” Carlisle said, but his gaze was still concerned. Jasper was hovering around me as I practically swayed on the spot.
“I am fine, I swear. I’m going home to crawl into bed and sleep until tomorrow,” I said.
“Well, sit down now before you fall down,” Jasper said, manhandling me into a chair.
Simon was worried when he saw me, and sent me straight up to bed. I could barely stand up long enough to shower and crawl into bed, falling asleep in seconds and not waking up til late the next morning – nearly fifteen hours. Some of the colour had come back into my face, thankfully. And I was ravenous, though the previous day’s worth of puking had taught me to be cautious.
“A few of Cyn’s classmates have come down with the flu,” Dad said, watching me tentatively pick at my eggs. “You must be patient zero of the junior class.”
“You’re staying home today – no saliva swapping with young Mr Cullen,” Simon said, pointing his knife at me.
“Been swapping more than saliva,” Cyn muttered into her breakfast and I managed to summon the energy to throw a piece of toast at her.
“Hey, no throwing breakfast foods,” Dad said to me. “Cynthia, no running commentary at family meals, thank you.”
//
This was bad. This was not a conversation I ever thought I’d have to have. Ever. I could feel the gentle whisper of Jasper’s gift around me, but it wasn’t helping.
“Um, so,” I began, wringing my hands. “Um, I talked to Carlisle and stuff, and it turns out that I’m pregnant.”
Simon and Dad just stared at Jasper and I in horror, gaping.
“What did the Cullens say?” Dad asked, looking exhausted.
“They’re shocked, but supportive,” I said carefully.
//
I sat with my back against the headboard, staring into space. Edward’s not unkind warning to give the Cullens some breathing room was a clear sign that my condition was causing some kind of unhappiness amongst the family. And Dad and Simon had pretty much just asked me to stay at the Cullens until they could get their head around this.
And now I was hearing noises about the Benoits rearing their ugly heads in Seattle.
I needed to get away. Give everyone some space for a while. As tempting as it was to throw money at a bus ticket until I was in New York or somewhere I could get lost easily – actually, California was a better choice, due to the abundant sunlight – I knew I wouldn’t go far.
I could go to Canada.
Not as a runaway. Mom had a few contacts up there, the Tibault clan. They had managed to elude or fight off the Order. The Benoits had told them everything about the Tibaults, so they were basically arch-enemies, which suited Mom just fine. The Benoit were a large family, of almost two hundred people.
These days, unbeknownst to the Order or the Benoits, the Tibaults numbered almost six hundred, scattered throughout Canada in all walks of life. And there could have been more – that’s just the information Mom and I were privy to.
My contacts were Lusa and her husband. Lusa had always been fairly aggressive and unpleasant towards my mother, but kind and welcoming to me. I had gotten along well with her three daughters Simone, Naomi and Elodie, and I knew Lusa would give me information and a place to stay for a few days, whilst we worked out what the Benoits were doing up in Washington. They had stayed on their side of the Mason-Dixon line my whole life, and now were venturing west the same time I did?
Something was brewing, and Lusa would know.
It took me about ten minutes to shove my things into a backpack. I’d only be gone a few days, a week at most, so it was mostly a few changes of clothing, money and the like. I had a couple of disposable cell phones stashed in my closet, and it took no time at all to set one up, leaving my own plugged in at home.
As far as cellphone records went, Mary-Alice Brandon never left Forks.
For the next week, I was Annie Bradley, a twenty-year old English student from Ottawa.
And hopefully by the end of the week, everyone was ready to deal with the baby thing.
//
Getting to Canada was fucking hideous without a car. A bus from Forks to Port Angeles, transfer to a bus to Seattle, and then a five-hour bus ride to Vancouver. Add in stress, nerves and morning sickness, and I didn’t even both going to find Simone when I got to Vancouver – I found a cheap motel and slept solidly for eighteen hours.
I dreamt pretty solidly. The Cullens thought I was at home, and my Dad and Simon thought I was at the Cullens. Jasper had called a few times, but my phone was still charging on my desk on silent. Missing a day of school hadn’t been unusual to anyone – after all, my favourite pastimes at the moment were puking and sleeping.
It wouldn’t be until tonight, when Jasper and Carlisle came over to check on me and speak with my Dad and Simon that they’d realise I’d vanished. And then everyone would be freaking out. Because I’d gone through so many bus stations, there would be no way to track my scent. It would be Simon who found my Bag of Tricks – fake I.Ds, passports, money and stuff like that – and that would scare him more than anything else.
//
Lusa scowled at me as I sat down.
“You look like you belong on that show Elodie loves so much, with the dead people walking around all the time,” she said to me, in her accent. I always loved Lusa’s stories – she was a mix of Inuit, French-Canadian and Trinidadian. Her father had been an honest-to-god vampire hunter down in Venezuela, and she had grown up around all the monsters and magic. Her mother had been Yakone Tibault, one of the most respected members of the family – and powerful, though I had no idea what their powers were.
She handed me a plate of eggs and toast, and glared at me til I started eating.
“I heard bad things coming from your part of the world,” Lusa said, as she poured me a glass of milk and sat down in front of me. “How is your mama?”
“Mom was killed a few years back,” I said evenly.
“Really,” Lusa said, watching me carefully. “I’m sorry to hear that you lost your mama, girlie. No child should lose their mother.”
“I’m okay,” I shrugged. “I have my father and his partner, Simon, out there. I’m not alone.”
“Pfft, men,” she shook her head. “And they do not live in our world, ma petite. They do not understand. Though, your mother struggled greatly, too. You know, I told her to leave you in our care so many times. Raise you safe and normal and happy. Not running in the night from the shadows on the wall. But no, she refused, thought we’d use you as blackmail, that she’d never get to see you. We could have helped her too, allowed her to build a life. But no, she was too proud. Filled with too many terrible plans.”
I was stunned. Lusa was kind, but I never knew she’d offered to protect and raise me.
“But the past is gone, and you did not trek all the way to the mountains to hear about ancient history.”
I nodded in agreement. “I heard some noise from the Benoits,” I said slowly. “Snooping around Seattle. I’m based in that area, and there’s a not insignificant population of others there, but they’ve never come this far west. Is something going on?”
Lusa watched me. “What kind of others?” she asked.
“Shape-shifters, definitely. A native tribe,” I said. “I’d guess at least a dozen, but I could be wrong.”
“Hmm. The Benoits have always left the native people alone. They know that is not magic they should meddle in, and that it cannot be as easily stamped out,” Lusa mused.
“There are also vampires,” I said flatly, and she looked at me with shock. “Neutral party. They live amongst the human population, and feed only from wild animals. That was the trigger for the shape-shifting; to defend the tribe from vampires. There is an agreement, a treaty that the vampires may not cross into the tribe’s lands, and they will be left alone. Unless a human is bitten, and then the vampires will be destroyed.”
“Interesting. Not unlike the little posse up in Denali,” Lusa said. My eyes widened. “I’ve been buying my furniture from the same very nice Spanish couple for over seventy years, girlie. I’m not a fool.”
“How old are you?” I said, pushing my empty plate away.
“Ach, older than whichever upstart has just been granted a place on the Benoit Council,” she said, and I looked up at the portrait of Yakone Tibault on the wall. But was it Yakone?
Lusa was smiling at me. “You are quick-witted, Mary-Alice. And because the information from Washington may be useful in the future – not for barter, just for my own plans, girl – I will give you three pieces of advice. One, stay away from Italy. Your mother was always adamant about that, and it was the only bit of good advice Elena had in her.
“Two, be careful with who you ally yourself with. You stay this side of the Mason-Dixon line; there would be very many interested parties in you, should they find out about you. Had Elena lifted her head out of her rage, she would have realised she is not alone in this world. Hybrids are rare, and keep to themselves. And she spent your childhood trying to turn you into her so she wouldn’t be alone. But in all my years, I have never heard of a hybrid having a child. You are a prize to the wrong person, girlie. Choose your friends carefully.
“Three, everybody has a price that would convince them to do terrible things, the darkest of things,” Lusa shook her head. “Some people come cheaper than others, that is all.”
“You sound like a fortune cookie,” I said, propping my head on my hand.
“And yet, they offer free advice. Now, I know there has been a new legacy added to the Benoit council since Antoine Benoit kicked it last summer. Dana and Yancy Sumner burned for his death, and no one has heard from their daughter Clara since before then, but it isn’t looking good. Meanwhile, the worst kept secret is that Antoine died in the bed of Yancy’s stepsister, nothing suspicious about the old pervert’s death at all. But Celeste wanted heads to roll, and now the last of the crossdems are dead and gone unless Clara’s managed to stay safe.”
“Crossdems?” I repeated.
“Cross-Dimensional Awareness. Yancy’s gift. Drives most of them bonkers, but Yancy had a special affinity for it… actually, that might be how Clara vanished. If he managed to weft space around her, to protect her… but that would effectively be a one-way trip,” Lusa mused, tapping the table before looking at my wide-eyed gaze. “Never mind all that. But the legacy has joined, and is aggressive.
“Too aggressive. They’re going to antagonise Miss Moreno down in Monterrey, and I am too old to see another Southern War, though if she still had her second, it would have been a thing to see. Never thought of that before. Should have pointed the Benoits down there in her hey-day, when that boy of hers was still running her campaigns. Would have cleared the Benoit ranks quite efficiently. Anyway, they’re pushing the limits of Miss Moreno’s patience, and they’ll draw notice of the Volturi sooner than later.”
“But why so far west?” I repeated, ignoring the sinking feeling.
“They’re aggressive, not stupid. They know there is a risk pissing off Moreno, and they are still human, even with their gifts. I’d say they are testing the waters, to set up a second base, in case Louisiana becomes inhospitable in the coming months.” Lusa grinned at me. “The Benoits are starting a war on the word of the Order, and seeing who pops up. Whack-a-mole, essentially.”
//
The next morning, Lusa took me to see Kay.
Kay was my favourite of Mom’s friends. She was tall and skinny, with weatherbeaten skin and steel-grey hair that looked like fairy-floss, even though she was only in her fifties. She lived outside of Pemberton, in a rundown old house and kept to herself. I knew she had a son somewhere, and she kept a few dogs, but was always very solitary. And despite her rough exterior and her sharp manner, she was very kind and loving. She also had the most interesting power – the ability to see the present. It sounds stupid, but she just knew everything – if you were ill, telling a lie, growing, dying, hungry, tired. She once told me, as a child, that she only ever saw people as their essential truth - she’d had a trans cousin and as a child, had been very confused when everyone referred to her as ‘him’ because she was very clearly a girl.
She was waiting for us when we arrived, scowling darkly at Lusa’s presence, but nodding at me.
“Look at Little Miss Mary-Alice,” Kay said, pulling me into a hug. She was like a human preying-mantis, all long, bony limbs. And then she tensed, cussing under her breath.
“Take it off her, take it off her now,” she yelled at Lusa, who actually jumped.
“Take what off?” I said, as she grabbed Lusa’s arm.
“She needed it,” Lusa insisted, as Kay dragged her back to me.
“You silly old cow, she’s pregnant,” Kay hissed and Lusa’s eyes widened at me.
“I meant no harm to her,” Lusa managed. Kay snorted.
“Undo it, now,” she said. “Before I kill you to remove it.”
Lusa reached and traced a shape over my forehead and I gasped; it was like I’d been doused in cold water. My senses flared, my head spun and my stomach cramped suddenly, and I felt a wet warmth between my legs. Blood, seeping through my jeans.
Kay let out a string of swear words and swept me into her arms, banging into her house.
“I’m going to get Noma, she’ll sort you out. Don’t move, and don’t worry,” she reassured me. I still hadn’t said anything, my arms tight around my middle, Lusa fluttering in the background.
“It was nothing bad, just a ward to protect you,” she kept saying to me, and I privately willed the baby just to hold on.
“Oh, one of you,” Noma said disinterestedly as she and Kay returned, turning her nose up at Lusa before bestowing a kind smile on me. “Hello sweetheart. Let’s get you and your baby back to rights, okay?”
“I didn’t intend for harm to come to her,” Lusa said again and Kay whirled around.
“You didn’t ask. Those spells see anything aside from the person a danger, including an unborn child. It’s imperfect and dangerous magic, positively crude,” Kay snapped.
Meanwhile, Noma had me propped up on some pillows, and handed me some leaves to chew on. It was vile, with only the faintest taste of mint – like licking a swampy forest floor. But she placed her hands on my admittedly-still flat if firmer than normal stomach. The air around her hands went wavy, and I felt very tired for a second, but slowly the pains stopped.
“No harm done,” Noma said kindly, plucking the disgusting bundle of leaves out of my hand. “You need to rest for a day or two, and all will be well. Just the ward leaving your body.” She rested her hand against my forehead. “Sleep, Mary-Alice. All will be well.”
And I did.
//
It was dark when I woke up, still on Kay’s couch, with a dog looking at me. I was still wearing my blood smeared jeans, my sneakers and my coat, and the inside of my mouth felt a rainforest floor.
Clambering off the couch, sending the dog skittering deeper into the house, I padded into the kitchen, catching my reflection in a mirror.
The last four days had taken their toll, and I’d lost more weight. I looked gaunt, and pale, dark circles under my eyes. My skin looked like semi-translucent wax. I needed a shower, and food, and to go home. Suddenly, my flight from Forks, which had seemed so rational in my head, had become the panicked reaction of a child.
But I’d deal with that later.
“Mary-Alice.”
I looked up to see Kay in the doorway, looking at me with a faint smile on her face.
“Noma’s gone home for the night, but she’ll be back for breakfast,” Kay said. “You slept longer than she expected, but Lusa said you’d arrived exhausted. Sleep is a great healer. Anyhow, Noma didn’t think you deserved to suffer through my cooking, and thought you needed something to build you up, so she made dinner.”
Within seconds, I was seated at the table, with an enormous bowl of some kind of chicken, vegetable and rice dish that tasted heavenly. Kay had turned down a portion of Noma’s cooking, eating a pile of salad and vegetables that she’d dumped cold baked beans on.
By the end of my second helping, I felt better than I had in weeks. My vision was sharper, my head was clearer and I didn’t feel as tired or frail.
“Well, I owe Noma a twenty,” Kay said, as I washed up. “She said it would sort you out, but I thought it was a horrendous idea, and a waste of chicken.”
“What was?” I asked, as I plucked an apple out of the bowl and took my seat opposite her.
“The quart of animal blood she dumped in that food,” Kay said casually, and I froze. “Don’t look so shocked, love. Your mama used to pump you full of blood and venom. With her gone, you’ve been living as a human and it’s taken its toll on you. No different than depriving a human of calcium.”
Fuck.
“And before you lose it, Noma grew up with blood as an ingredient in food, so it was no different than cooking for her grandchildren. And she added a few herbs and spices for your health. I have always associated blood with vampires, which is short-sighted of me.”
“Still, it’s weird,” I said, looking at my apple.
“I doubt the baby’s father would feel the same way,” Kay said slyly, and I jumped. She really could see everything, couldn’t she?
“Was it consensual?” Kay asked, pushing her own plate away.
“Yes,” I said. “I love him very much.”
“And he knows?”
“Yes. That’s why I’m here, actually. Everyone was having a meltdown at home, about the baby, so I figured I’d check on the fact the Benoits are poking around Seattle. Give everyone some space.” At Kay’s look, I elaborated. “Jasper’s family – babies are a sore subject. Rosalie desperately wants a child, Esme lost a child, and I accidentally got pregnant even though I didn’t know I could. Mom told me I was sterile. They needed some time to grieve their own losses before dealing with me. And Dad and Simon are … I’m not sure if they’re angry or upset or both.”
“Jasper. That’s his name?” Kay said suddenly. “His surname?”
“Hale. Or Cullen,” I said warily.
“That’s a lie.”
“No, that’s what they go by at home. Whitlock, that was his surname when he was alive.”
“Let me guess, Major Jasper Whitlock,” Kat said, an evil grin spreading across her face. “Maria Moreno’s second in command, and the scourge of the South.” She started laughing, almost hysterically. “Oh, I’d love to see Lusa and your mother if you told them that. You’ve found a vampire mate, it happens to be the God of War who vanished in 1948 and hasn’t been heard of since, and you’re both having a baby. Lusa’s worrying about you getting caught up in the war, but you’ve got the best protection we could imagine. Jasper Whitlock and his ‘family’.”
I waited til she calmed down.
“I can’t imagine he was thrilled when you mentioned heading off to Canada,” Kay finally continued.
I took a bite of my apple, chewing slowly. “I may not have mentioned I was going. To anyone,” I said finally.
Kat looked at me.
“Everyone kept telling me they needed space! ‘Go stay with the Cullens’, ‘give us a couple of days before you come around again!’ Frankly, the only person who hasn’t freaked out about the baby is me. I am surrounded by a bunch of adults who are losing their collective shit over this, and the youngest of them is my father, a mere twenty-four years older than me. But me, I have to be sunshine and happiness, not ever acknowledging that this fucking terrifying for me on so many levels. I have to puke in the sink, whilst everyone else gets comforted. And I figured I needed to get the heads up about whatever dealings the Benoits were doing this far west. Let everyone get over themselves,” I slouched in my seat.
“Feel better?” Kay said kindly. I nodded.
“I’ll drive you back to Washington the day after tomorrow, gives you time to rest per Noma’s orders. We can discuss everything you need to know tomorrow, over breakfast. And I’ll be having words with both your family and the Cullens. About you and your reality, and about what is coming for everyone. It’s a fuckin’ baby, you aren’t turning Republican. I had my boy when I was fifteen, and he was a good kid. I was a good kid. It’s adults who fuck shit up.”
//
My dreams were clearer than normal. Dad and Simon had called Chief Swan about my disappearance, grudging agreeing with the Cullens’ request not to tell anyone I was pregnant. Simon had also called and visited every Planned Parenthood in our part of the state, mistakenly thinking I was freaking out about the baby.
The Cullens had tried to track me a few times, and knew I had headed towards Seattle, but nothing more. Jasper had pretty much shut down, pacing in his study, having already hacked into my phone and bank accounts, monitoring them for any signs of activity. Rosalie had sensibly hacked Child Services, in case I was picked up, tagging any mention of the names in any of my fake I.D.s I’d left behind.
Esme was frantic. Even when Carlisle had told her that the Denali clan couldn’t help us, she’d insisted on speaking with Tanya, explaining I was scared young girl who needed protection, if she kept an ear and eye out for me. But somehow Tanya managed to gently convince Esme that they were happy to come to Forks to help search for me, but there was a lot of land between Seattle and Alaska, and even then, they were assuming I had headed north.
But I woke up rested, having slept through the night. As I changed into leggings and a sweatshirt, I noticed there was colour in my face, my cheeks slightly rounder and I just looked healthier. Noma was definitely onto something with the animal blood. And I could probably stomach it, if it were mixed into human food, but the idea of sucking it warm from a freshly killed animal was enough to make me vomit.
//
Kay bundled me into the car for the trip back to Forks before dawn, letting me sleep until we crossed back into the U.S, when she bought me breakfast at the drive-through for breakfast, muttering about corporate America and preservatives, as I scoffed the unholy muffin and orange juice she’d chosen for me.
I ended up falling back asleep, my dreams swallowing me up. Dad and Simon in the kitchen, looking grim and tired. And old.
“Any calls?” Dad asked flatly and Simon shook his head.
“Nothing,” Simon said. “Not a damn thing. Jesus, I just cannot get over… why the hell does a seventeen year old have fake passports?”
“I don’t know. I hadn’t spoken to Elena for years - I couldn’t find her. I have no idea what she was involved in or what she got Alice mixed up in.”
//
I was getting out of the shower when the Cullens arrived, and I could hear Jasper on the stairs, moving far faster than any human had the ability to, and three annoyed yells from downstairs.
Whatever. Kay was about to clue my family in, and I was home, and Jasper was here. Heaven was clean leggings and an oversized t-shirt.
“Alice.” Jasper hit my room like a tornado, pulling me into his arm and kissing me hard in one sweeping move. “Where the hell were you?”
“Went to see some of Mom’s friends,” I said, clinging to him, pressing my face against his chest. “Give everyone a couple of days to deal with everything. Being a dumb teenager.”
“You should have told me. I would have taken you myself,” he said, his arms tight around me, one hand sliding up under my t-shirt to rest on my stomach.
“You needed to be with your family,” I said. “Dad and Simon, they wanted some space to get their head around the baby. I think they’ve been trying to have another kid for a few years, but surrogacy is expensive, and adoption is difficult for a gay mixed race couple in this part of the country. So, me coming home accidentally pregnant brought up some complex emotions, I get it. But I know Esme and Rose were going through something similar at your place, so I figured a road trip was a solution,” I shrugged, just breathing in his scent.
“You are my family. Both of you,” Jasper said sternly. “And my entire family would chew off their own faces that turn you away.” He pulled away to inspect me. “You should let Carlisle check you out.”
“I will,” I said, stepping over to the dresser to brush out my hair. “Though I suspect that it will be the only way I’ll be visiting for awhile. Dad and Simon are going to murder me. But…” I frowned.
“But…”
“Kay’s downstairs. She’s… gifted, and she knows everything,” I said. “She’s going to tell everyone everything and hopefully, once they understand, they won’t try to seperate us.”
Jasper took the brush from my hair and took over. I closed my eyes in pleasure at his gentle touch. “Not possible. Besides, we haven’t had any time alone,” he said in a low voice, a whisper of heat building in my lower stomach, “since before we found out. And I would very much like some time alone with you.”
I smiled as he put down the brush and pulled me back into his arms. For a moment, I had no body - I was just love and desire and contentment. “Alone would be good,” I murmured.
Jasper leant down and I stood on my toes to be taken into a deep, slow kiss that was the prelude to something we wouldn’t start now, with our parents downstairs. Having any one of the adults downstairs walk in on Jasper and I would be beyond mortifying, no matter how good this felt.
Jasper pulled away, his eyes dark. “They want us to join them,” he murmured.
“Inevitable,” I sighed, pressing against him suggestively. “Later?”
“Later - if I have to smuggle you out myself,” he muttered, and I giggled.
Dad and Simon looked positively stricken when I came back downstairs, Carlisle and Esme looking tired, and Kay looking smug.
“I had… no idea,” Dad began, looking about ten years older than he was. “Elena was…”
“A monster,” I said flatly, Jasper’s hands on my shoulders. I never spoke much about Mom.
“Obviously, I will be monitoring Alice’s pregnancy extremely closely,” Carlisle said, “since this is entirely unprecedented. And your advice regarding her diet is sound, but if Simon and David are uncomfortable with that element, Esme and I can certainly make arrangements…”
“Diet?” Jasper looked down at me.
“Animal blood,” I shrugged, “you get to take me hunting.”
I jumped at the lust that Jasper emitted, and he smirked at me. “Well, now I have some questions,” I said.
“Is this something we need to consider with Cynthia as well?” Simon finally spoke, worry on his face.
“Cynthia?” Kay jumped on that.
“My sister. Mom had a baby for Dad and Simon when I was younger,” I said. “And no, she’s human enough. Mom pumped me full of venom to try and make me a full hybrid.”
“Money was involved, I supposed?” Kay said and Dad nodded.
“Elena said she needed the money,” he said.
“Hmmm,” Kay tapped her chin. “Cynthia’s existence isn’t well known, so we’ll all keep that under our hats. And you, Major Whitlock, would be wise to keep Alice and her condition quiet. The last thing we need is Ms Moreno getting jealous.”
Jasper looked stunned. “Maria and I haven’t spoken in years,” he said. “How…?”
“Oh, you have quite the reputation,” Kay said. “And you are telling me that Maria Moreno wouldn’t march her way to Forks if she heard the news? Carve the baby out of Mary-Alice’s body and then kill Mary-Alice? She always was terribly spiteful.”
If possible, Jasper would have paled at the image Kay painted of Maria harming me. There was no love lost, but Maria would never be finished punishing Jasper for leaving her.
//
We both realised pretty quickly that there wouldn’t be any sneaking out or Cullen house visits for the imminent future, so we settled for the next best thing: Jasper sneaking in. It was after midnight when he slipped into my bed next to me, waking me up with deep kisses, hitching my leg over his hip.
“Mmm, what a wake-up call,” I said sleepily, letting him peel off my camisole. “You think we can stay quiet enough Dad and Simon don’t wake up?”
“We will,” he said, his hand slipping into my pyjama pants, and I wasn’t sure if it was the hormones or how long it had been or if his gift was working overtime, but I was more than ready for him, my hands going to work on his belt as he worked me over with surprising efficiency, kissing me hard to swallow up my cries as I came down.
Moments later, he was naked on his back, his hands on my hips with me aside him, working us both into a very quiet frenzy; Jasper’s eyes were as black as I’d seen them, and he keep purring at me, egging me on to take what I needed from him. The flashes I caught from my mirror showed us as utterly obscene; he looked inhuman, the way he was gazing at me, guiding my hips, and I looked drunk as I tried to find the sweet spot for both of us.
I was going to have to blame baby hormones on this, because it was ridiculous, and intense; we’d never been together this urgently.
He left in the early hours of dawn, tucking me back into bed with a deep kiss and reassurance that he’d be back later. I passed out, sated and exhausted, with the lingering thought that perhaps this would be our new normal, this desperate and intense love-making.
//
The intensity didn’t wane over the last few weeks of school and into the summer. Neither of us could resist it; more than once I found myself in the very back of the library with Jasper’s hand up my skirt - he used my emotions to get himself off, and I spent the rest of the school day with shaky legs. He used his gift more than once to give us both some relief in an unused classroom, his knee between both my legs as I grinded against him, my face buried in his neck.
We were a walking biological disaster, and I have no idea how we managed not to get caught. Edward was fairly repulsed by us, but Emmett thought it was hilarious, high-fiving Jas every time he caught us in the afterglow.
Most of my time at the Cullens was awkward, mostly because I spent it climbing Jasper like a tree. I would walk in, greet everyone, and give minutes later, I was bare-assed on Jasper’s desk, with his lips on my throat, and my hands down his… well, he wasn’t wearing any pants by then.
Most of the family tried not to acknowledge how bad we were - we were definitely headed towards Rosalie and Emmett levels of indecency - but Edward made his disgust with our lack of restraint clear, and Emmett was apparently keeping a score card of some description that I made Jasper promise to destroy.
So far, only two people had walked in on us - Rosalie and Cynthia. Rose had walked into the garage to find Jasper on top of me in the backseat of the Lexus convertible, both of us too far gone to give a shit if someone was selling tickets. Rose had been pissed we’d defiled one of her cars, and I wasn’t entirely sure what Jasper had said or bought her to pacify her, she never said anything about it to me.
Cynthia had barged into my bedroom one afternoon after school to ask me something, only to find Jasper going down on me like a god-damned professional, my hands tangled in his hair, and my leg over his shoulder. Cynthia had shrieked, I had shrieked, and Jasper had tried not to simultaneously die of embarrassment, and then amusement when Cynthia had expressed her complete shock that ‘guys actually did that’.
Cynthia had stood there looking completely baffled for a second before looking me in the eye. “Does it feel good?” she asked, with no clear plans to leave the room.
Jasper snorted with laughter and I resisted the urge to murder my sister.
“Yes, it feels very nice,” I said slowly. “Now, go away so he can finish.”
“Oh,” Cynthia turned bright red and slipped out the room. “Dad will be home in like 30 minutes!” she bellowed as she disappeared into her own bedroom.
Jasper was still sniggering at my idiot sister, and I smacked him with a pillow.
“I need to get a lock put on that door,” I muttered before looking at my boyfriend, who was smirking at me. “Now, are you going to finish what you started or am I going to have to do it myself?”
Jasper snorted and gave me a deep kiss, before sliding back down the bed. “Yes, ma’am.”
//
Jasper left within moments of the parental units arriving home. I managed to grab a quick shower, and Cynthia was waiting for me outside.
“I have questions,” she said, following me downstairs.
“Try Google,” I said.
“What does it feel like? Is it weird?” Cynthia began asking me, as I hurried towards
the kitchen, hoping Dad and Simon’s presence would stop the barrage of questions.
“Wait, do you do oral sex on him?”
That was the question Cynthia settled on as we burst into the kitchen, that our parents clearly heard. Dad was choking on his drink, and Simon dropped the yoghurt he was holding.
“Kill me, please,” I pleaded with my fathers. Cynthia appeared to have no shame, with laser-like focus on me.
“I have so many questions,” Simon managed, as my father cleaned up the mess.
“Me too!” Cynthia said enthusiastically.
“No you don’t,” I said, holding up my hand. “Question time is over.”
“You didn’t answer any,” Cynthia pouted.
“Oh my god,” Dad looked like he was having a mental breakdown and Simon had gotten out a bottle of whiskey.
“This is so beyond the realm of okay,” I said. “And you two are doing nothing.”
“I find myself fascinated by your answers, Alice,” Simon said, as my father took a long swig of the drink Simon had poured him. “Answer the questions and then we can all pretend this never happened - after you explain how we got on this topic of conversation.”
