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reimagining-twilight · 11 months

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🦊🐻 Chapter Three & ¼ - Monterrey 2:00 AM 🐻🦊

17 hours later I'm still running. Smelling a familiar scent trail I stop. There are leaves in my hair, dirt on my clothes, and my shoes, socks and trouser hems are muddied beyond repair.

There may as well have been a sign. A scent mark that runs along the forest's edge as far as one can 'smell' tells me I'm in the right place. Not that I could have forgotten, the dry desert-like place, the air here -much like everything else- is warm, the Earth is brown and dry, spiky cacti and the occasional scraggly evergreen grow in place of clumps of mossy trees. Here the moon looks down on me from the vast sky. A whole sea of stars, it's beautiful.

I'm back in Monterrey. I don't know why I'm here. This isn't my home anymore but it feels strangely peaceful. I'm like an addict in recovery, visiting the old dealer. I shouldn't be here. Like I said, it isn't my home anymore. I have no right. I left for a reason and I should probably go now before something bad happens. I'm about to turn around and leave when a figure steps out of the tree line, a woman. Maria.

After the Volturi had cracked down on the Southern Clans she had relocated to her old home where her 'parents' and her old mate were killed. She looks just the same as I remembered her, medium height, curly brown hair, red eyes that signal her diet. Well, her eyes are black right now. She was probably hunting when she heard my footsteps. I shudder at the thought.

She is wearing just a crop top and short shorts that leave almost nothing to the imagination. I, of course, don't need imagination. I wince at the memory. it isn't that it's a bad memory but it seems embarrassing to think about that when she is right here. I guess I'm just so used to having my thoughts be fair game that I forget that everyone can't read them.

As I look at her now it finally clicks that she is alone, no bodyguards. I would have thought they would've come along in case I intended to hurt her. I have no such intent.

She smiles, not a cruel smile, a genuine one. I look at her surprised. She breaks the silence first, "Jasper, mi amour, what brings you back here?" She sounds almost relieved. I can feel caution but also joy and happiness from her. Is she exulting in the fact that the crown jewel of her collection has come back or is it something else? I try not to dwell on that.

Looking at her, I can't lie. "I don't know."

She doesn't seem at all as smug about my return as I thought she might be. Instead she is joyful and strangely cautious, though she has nothing to fear from me. I don't feel any fear from her, just guilt, regret. It disappears quickly, as if she is trying to hide it. What is that about?

"Care to join me on my hunt?" she asks and I can feel her thirst intensify on the word hunt.

I nod. I will accompany her. I don't have to join her. "I'll come with you," I say and she seems to get the message. I am such a masochist.

We speed off through the trees. I think about my approach. There are usually at least a few guards on the perimeters , older newborns still no more than a year old. I had picked up their scent and they should have picked up mine but they left me alone. In fact they had avoided me, almost as if . . . someone told them to.

The territory itself has shrunk a little, most likely a result of bad training for the newborns. I had to admit that makes me a little smug. I remember Maria's guilt. Does she regret my leaving? Then something occurs to me. She knows my gift better than anyone. Is she trying to guilt me into coming back? Am I so opposed to coming back? It seems better than facing the fuckstorm I've created. At least until I figure out my own shit.

Maria finds her target, a middle aged man, 47 at most. She makes it quick, snapping his neck before he even realises she is there, draining him efficiently.

Her choice of target, not as young as her usual kills, but still with strong blood. Her pace, not one of eagerness but mercy. I'd seen her savour a meal. What has changed? Is all of this for my sake?

The question occupies me as we leave the human populace behind and head deeper into the woods. I don't really need to hunt but animal blood would clear my senses from the scent of Maria's prey. I stalk a puma. He, like us, is hunting but unlike us, he never gets to eat his meal. Copying Maria I drain him quickly.

"I still can't believe you drink that ditch water!" She jests but her words are careful.

"You get used to it," I say dryly. There is no point trying to convince her.

We lapse into silence again and, again, she is the first to break it. "Is it really as rainy as they say?"

"What?"

"Washington, that pathetic little town . . . Knives, right?" she says, and I can't keep my laughter contained.

"It's Forks, and are you seriously asking me about the weather?" I ask between laughs.

"Ay! Jasper, I'm trying to start a conversation with you! See, this is why no one ever talks to you!" she says.

"Okay, yes, it's rainy. This is just lame, jeez!" I say and here we are laughing. She just killed a man and we're laughing. Sometimes I forget that Maria is only 19, just a teenager like me. She always seemed so much older when we were together.

There is a short silence, then, "We're having a bonfire tonight at 3:00. I'm treating my newborns after their victory. It's an open invitation."

I'm surprised Maria would invite me. Wouldn't having the newborns see me with yellow eyes undermine her? Or is having me with her a power play? But then again all who knew of my defection are long dead by now.

"Will there be humans?"

"Yes." I can tell she wants to say more but she stops herself. I imagine what she is going to say. 'It wouldn't be a party without them.'

My head is spinning with my own problems and Maria's odd behaviour. I need a break. So whatever game this is I decide I can play along, just for the night. "Well in that case, I'd better clean up."

We arrive at the barn, which is exactly as I remember it. Maria's 'quarters' upstairs and the newborns downstairs. I thought it would trigger more memories but they are unbelievably easy to ignore

"Who's training the newborns now?" I ask casually. Whoever they are, they aren't very good if she's lost a mile and a half of territory. I don't know why but I feel a slight aching at the thought of others doing my job. It definitely isn't jealousy of whatever relationship they do or don't have with Maria. It can't be. This life isn't mine anymore but I can't help myself. It bothers me that I'm jealous instead of concerned about her manipulating someone else.

"Today?" she pauses thinking. "Ricardo I think. They go fast, never lasting more than a season. None of them are good enough!" She sounds exasperated and wistful. I don't have to ask what she is testing them against. To my horror, relief washes through me. It leaves an acid aftertaste.

We are upstairs now. Her room is different than I remembered. It now contains a modern vanity and large closet that clashes with the walls of the rustic barn house. There is a vintage sofa on the western wall but the centre of the room is empty. The bed is gone.

She opens the large cedar closet doors revealing a myriad of classical Mexican dresses, ripped jeans, oxford shirts and corsets. Maria's favourites. I do not know where she is going with this. She bends down to the bottom leftmost shelf and pulls out a stack of 40s style men's shirts and trousers.

At first I'm confused at why she has these old clothes, then I realise they're mine. These are my clothes from shortly before I left Maria. She's never gotten rid of them. My scent is still dominant, meaning she'd never loaned them out to anyone else either. If not for her future manipulations why would she have kept them? Again I shove the thought aside.

I raise my eyebrows but take the stack anyway. I have enough unsolvable problems, but muddy clothes, that I can fix. She leaves me alone to change. A few minutes later I'm wearing a button down shirt and a jumper.

It's 2:30 now so I have 30 minutes to kill before the start of the bonfire. I decide to explore the rest of the barn house. The sitting room has a modern looking sofa and a small television that is displaying the local news. The usually unused kitchen has been updated and is bustling with caterers who are making snacks for the humans—before they became snacks for us. The caterers stand at attention and bend their heads slightly as I pass. I leave the unsettling scene quickly.

Off the kitchen is a study. This room, unlike the rest of the house, has not been refurbished. It's perfectly preserved. Not a single thing out of place, the small electric lamp, the mini radio, the partly pushed in chair with a blazer over the back, the pens and box of pastels carefully arranged on the desk and a drawing pad still open to an unfinished page.

The two lines on the page are the beginnings of a railroad track. How do I know that? Because I'm the one who drew them.

The small space looks like one of those historical sets from museums. I don't know how to feel. Is this sweet or creepy? Is she honouring me or is it something more sinister? A feeling crawls up my spine, what it is I'm not sure.

When I examine the study more closely, I find that several other of my old possessions are there as well, including my books on the small oak bookshelf, not a page bent out of place. I sit down at the desk and pick up the pen. It has been filled and recapped recently but that is the only change I can detect. Slowly I follow the lines down the page and soon I have the entire drawing finished, an old steam locomotive, classic black and red, numbered 42 on the front in gold lettering.

Satisfied I gently extract the page and fold it into my trouser pocket. When I get outside, Maria and two bulky newborns are preparing the bonfire. When they see me they clear out. Maria uses her gift, pyromancy, to set ablaze the wood pile. It's taller than me and the fire forms a tower in the night sky. The flames reflect off the dress she is now wearing. It is red, knee length with gold details, hugging her curves, but modestly.

We sit down together watching the flames. This time I break the silence. "Maria, did you tell your guards to leave me alone?"

"Yes, that is one of my few rules. If you ever come around they are to leave you be," she answered, still staring at the flames.

Her answer just left me with more questions and I had to know. "Is that why you kept all of my stuff," I ask softly, "because you thought I would come back." It isn't a question. I can feel her embarrassment. The way she'd kept my drawing utensils and my clothes, how she felt when she saw me in the tree line, her behaviour on the hunt, it all makes sense now. The feeling slam into me like a ton of bricks . She isn't over me! She has never gotten over me. Maria still loves me. Still? When did she start loving me?

My face must've asked the question my brain couldn't form.

She looks like she is crying. "Yes." I don't know what to do. I haven't even sorted out my feelings about Isabella and now this. I just can't bring myself to be angry at Maria. I don't hate her, not anymore. I think I stopped hating her a while ago.

I look at what had happened again. Maria had been using me, but she had fallen in love. She loved me, still loves me, and then I had left her. Oh god! Fuck! How do I not see it before? Shit! I had made such a fucking mess of everything. I see it all now and she isn't even angry. I want to die. Instead I just sit there with her in front of the fire, my head in my hands.

"Oh God, Maria! I'm so, so sorry," I say, not looking at her face. I know it isn't enough. It isn't adequate to make up for what I've done and the worst part is no matter what I did she still loves me. I'm not sure I loved her, and to make everything more complicated, I'm not even sure that I don't . I don't know if I would've stayed even if I had known but I could've at least said something. My head spins.

"I thought you hated me! What I did was so horrible. I needed you for the army at first but then I fell in love with you! I wanted so badly to tell you it was real but you wouldn't have believed me anyway," she says, dry sobs punctuating her words.

I can feel the depth of her sorrow but the tragedy of it all is so cliched that I erupt into laughter. "You're right. I wouldn't have believed you but I don't hate you. I hated myself for letting myself be taken advantage of. You know my abilities so well I couldn't be sure that it wasn't a trick."

"Jasper, mi amour, I've always loved you," she says, putting her head on my shoulder. I tense out of habit, but decide to give her some leniency.

I shifted so that her head is now in my lap. Her words twist my insides and break my heart. I have no right to do this to her. She's given me her whole heart even though I haven't decided to give her mine. As much as I hate what she did to me I hate doing this to anyone.

"What do we do now?" I wonder aloud. Just because I haven't given my heart to her yet doesn't mean I can't. I need to calm down and think before I make any decisions. Why should I? Being with her is like being on fire, exciting but it burns like hell.

"We will see where the stars take us. Wherever you decide to go, I'll be here."

"Well, I'll be sticking around for a while," I say. Isabella implied that she would only be staying in Forks for the rest of High School. I can stay here for another year and a half. I can make myself be okay with this, with everything. Maybe I'll want to stay even longer, if I can somehow fireproof myself first. I feel bad about using Maria as a refuge for my own problems. I'll need to tell her why I'm really here as soon as I figure it out myself. I owe her only that.

But that can wait. Guests are arriving, the newborns from training and humans from here and there. The innocent humans, the hungry newborns, Maria. The emotions are all too much.

"I think I need a break. I just need to think," I say softly. I can't make myself spit out the acid that's eating me inside.

"Okay, you know where to find me," she replies, taking a glass of the suspiciously opaque wine from a human waiter.

I'm off running for the second time that day. I end up on top of a cliff a few miles north of the barn. I go over what I know in my head.

One: I want to get to know the human whom I also want to kill. I need to know her. Just because I saved her once doesn't mean that I'm not a danger to her anymore.Her blood is still sweet to me. If I get to know her, I can think of her as a person instead of a meal and I won't want to kill her as much . . . maybe.

Two: I had saved her from the van, but I don't know why. Well, I know the lie I told myself but . . .

My subconscious has plenty to say: I already think of her as a person. A wonderful person. Someone who I definitely want to be around, like all the time. This feeling, a tightness and aching in my chest something I haven't felt in ages. I already miss Isabella Swan. This is just– I can't believe I'm already so far gone but is it far enough.

Three: I had come all the way back here, to my old home to, I don't know, find answers. I don't even know what I expected to find but it definitely isn't this. I thought Maria had been afraid of losing her biggest advantage in battle. I had no idea that she really loved me. Now I've fucked that up too. (What chance do I have with anyone else much less a human)

Four: Maria still loves me.

Five: I still love her. Certainly not with the same passion that I once had but I certainly am not indifferent. I feel something for her. (But Am I sure it's love? Is it just guilt? I think it might be, because last I checked love doesn't feel like being scorched from the inside out.)

Six: I like Isabella. I don't think I'm in love with her but I'm not indifferent to her either. (I'm much more than indifferent)

Seven: I'm not sure I love either of them, but I'm not sure I don't .

Eight: This entire fucking thing is a mess.

How long I sat thinking I don't know. I hear Maria come up behind me and sigh.

She puts her hand on my shoulder and sits down beside me. She doesn't say anything, we just watch the sun climb the horizon together. We run, still in silence, back to the barn, the sun reflecting off our stone hard skin. I have to say Maria is beautiful. Yet I still find myself wondering what Isabella would look like with diamond skin.

When we are upstairs I decide that it's time. She sits down on the sofa. I follow, laying across its length with my head in her lap.

"Maria, I have something to tell you," I whisper. "I haven't been entirely honest about my reasons for being here. I came here because I needed to get away from a problem with my adopted family. There is this girl, Isabella," Maria's face falls, but she bravely listens.

"No, no it's not like that. She's mi cantante. I've never wanted anyone's blood more than I want hers, ever. I thought that if I got to know her I could, I could stop myself, that maybe, just maybe, I could keep from killing her."

"And . . . " Maria says softly, queuing me to continue.

"And, it's working. She's a good person, such a good person, pure and kind. She doesn't deserve to be in my world. I care about her, want her to be my friend, but that would be unsafe for her. I don't want to involve her in something that she doesn't understand, but I don't think I have a choice now." I can hear the sadness in my voice. I know Maria would never understand my moral issues, but I can feel her sympathy as she leans closer to me, placing her hand on my shoulder.

"What do you mean? I don't understand. Didn't you tell me that you always have a choice?" she says, quoting back what I'd said the day I left her. I don't think that's how she meant it but the guilt is immediate. She senses the change and starts rubbing my shoulder.

I'm weaker than I'd like to admit for Maria's touch and I melt, "Yes, that's usually true, but she's seen too much. She knows that I'm not human. I don't think she intends to tell anyone but I can't risk it. I will have to . . ."

"Mi amour, slow down, what has the girl, tu cantante, seen?"

"There was an accident, a van. It was going to kill her, so I saved her. I wasn't anywhere near her. She's not stupid. She felt my touch, saw me lift the van." I leaned even closer to Maria, closing the small gap between us. "I don't know what to do . . . And I think that I like her, a lot. Too much for both of our own goods."

Maria's face is unreadable, her emotions closed off. "Nobody else saw, si?

"No."

"Why don't you just change her? Give her the gift of this life?" Maria asks, not hiding her mystification very well. I have to forgive her blunt approach.

"She agreed to my version of events. I used my gift. She says she doesn't want to tell anybody. She promised to lie for me," I can hear exactly how pathetic I sound, "and I can't just create a new vampire. She has a family. Her father, the Police chief of Forks, would send a search party. I'm not going to slaughter half of the town just to save face for one girl. It would raise suspicions. . . . . Besides, I don't think I have the restraint," I admitted, shamefaced.

Maria nods, but doesn't say anything. We stay like that for a while before Maria, as usual, broke the silence. "You are stronger than you think, mi amour. You will find a way."

"A way to what? Kill her without anybody noticing. I don't want to kill her, Maria, that's what I'm trying to avoid, been trying to avoid, all this time. That's why I," I cut myself off, taking deep breaths before I say something stupid.

Maria's face is still unreadable but now I can feel the remorse echoing off her. She went back to massaging my shoulder, "I never said you should kill her, but she is only human, her life is finite. You can surely avoid her for that long, si? Does she even plan to stay in Kni- Forks for that long?"

I sighed. "She's a junior in High School. She plans to stay only until she graduates. I'm actually thinking about staying here, with you, until she leaves. If that's okay with you? I would miss everyone but, I don't know how I can stay in Forks."

Maria smiles, "You are always welcome to stay here, as long as you need."She sounds a little sad, "Might even find that you want to stay longer. I'm sure that certain . . . arrangements can be made," she continues, referring to my diet.

The idea sends a bitter taste to my mouth, surprising me. It's harder to sound diplomatic than I would've thought."I would like that, but I'm not sure of anything yet," I told her, closing my eyes against the reality of it all. "I would need to tell everyone. We are a family of sorts. They mean a lot to me and I need to think about how they would feel."

I kept my eyes shut thinking, the Cullens are who I called my family, but I had never really fit in with them. I'm quiet, withdrawn and dangerous to their fragile lifestyle, the only one without a mate. Did I really belong with them?

Sure I would miss Esme and Rosalie, but I would visit them and we would all be much happier. They can live their illusion of humanity without worrying about me slaughtering innocent Highschoolers, and I wouldn't have to worry about keeping on a mask of humanity or nosy Edward reading my darkest thoughts. I would maintain my dignity. After all, Maria isn't a savage and I don't need to go to high school a million times. I might attend college a few more times over the decades but for now I needed a break from humanity.

This is the world I belong in. The warm air and dry ground, where I can be a vampire. If I can be here without facing the depression of ending human lives, would it really be so different from my life with Carlisle and Esme?

It would be a test of my control, that's for sure, but I can handle it. I have to ask myself, though, did I only want to leave the Cullens because I don't want to face Esme if I slip?

Only 5 seconds had elapsed, "I would help you," Maria says.

And this will all help Isabella, help her stay safe, from me. "Yes, I need to call Esme."

"Esme, she is the leader of your coven, si?"

"She's one of them, she and her mate Carlisle," I reply. Esme and Carlisle are so much more than mates, they are husband and wife, lovers, friends. But I have to use terms Maria would understand.

"Ah, well there's a phone in the sitting room."

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