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junkdrawerfics · 11 months

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Swan Sisters (Part 5) FINALE

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Jasper Whitlock x Reader + Bella and sister!Reader

Summary: You and Jasper need a little comfort after the events of Port Angeles, so a cuddle session ensues. When you return home, you catch Bella in the middle of her research. The big reveal happens, followed by a long list of questions

Plus! A sweet bonus scene with a white dress ;)

Warnings: None. Intimacy, but nothing sexual. Just some good cuddling.

Word Count: 3268

---

The second your car door swings open, Jasper is there.

“Are you okay?”

His hands trace over your arms, your sides, scorching gaze following just behind. This time, you welcome the warmth. His touch is so gentle, just the barest whisper over your clothes, erasing the memory of the touch of those men.

A sigh drips past your lips, “I’m okay, Jas. They were just humans.”

The blond purses his lips. It doesn’t change the fact that someone touched you. That they threatened you. When Alice had shared her vision with him, he’d almost ran straight to Port Angeles to rip their throats out. He’d never forgive himself if something happened to you. Life without you is a life he doesn’t want to live.

You squeak as Jasper effortlessly sweeps you up into his arms. Before you can even complain, you’re in his room, being gently laid on the bed. There’s a pause. You look up at the blond, tilting your head. Jasper’s eyes, a dark burning amber today, hold an unspoken question as he hesitates at the edge of the bed.

Your features soften. A small nod.

Jasper climbs over you, careful to not jostle you too much. You let out an amused hum as he settles on top of you, his arms wrapping around your waist, face buried in your neck. Your small body is fully eclipsed by his.

Any lingering tenseness disappears here. You love this. Just laying here, Jasper’s full weight on you, like the most amazing weighted blanket ever. Concern still swirls around you, not your own, so you curl and arm over his shoulder, the other hand carding through his messy hair.

“I’m right here, my love,” you whisper, words dripping with tenderness.

Jasper just presses his lips to the soft curve of your neck. You sigh, eyes fluttering shut.

Nothing feels so perfect, so right, as having Jasper in your arms, every part of you touching in some way. For just a moment, it’s like you’re sleeping. The stillness. The peace. The comfort.

You could stay like this forever.

After a few seconds, or maybe hours (you can’t tell anymore), you gently tap Jasper’s shoulder. He pulls back, slowly, reluctant to leave his comfortable position. Those dark eyes fall on your features, half-lidded and unfocused, his lips pouting just a little.

How can he be so cute?

“I love you, my sunshine,” you confess, brushing your nose against his.

Jasper’s mouth quirks up into one of those lopsided grins, a touch bashful as he leans forward, capturing your lips in a slow kiss. He doesn’t have to say it for you to feel how much he loves you.

Even so, when he pulls back, eyes warm with adoration, the words are murmured against your lips like a promise, “I’ll love you for forever and an eternity, darlin’.”

You melt. Every inch of your overflows with fondness, crippling and soft and lovely. It fills the whole room, leaves Jasper’s head spinning as he slumps against you, just breathing in your scent. You hold him tighter. As tight as you can because you never want to let go.

Forever and an eternity.

It doesn’t feel long enough.

---

“(Y/n)?” Edward knocks lights on the door.

Jasper groans, not too pleased to have your cuddle session interrupted. Any other time, you might have told Edward to get lost, but you did just leave him alone with Bella. Curiosity gets the better of you.

Once Jasper settles at your side (you want to spare Edward at least some awkwardness), you tell him to come in.

Edward cracks the door, eyes narrowed as if still expecting to find you in some compromising position. You smother a smile when he nods to himself and stands up a smidge straighter. Poor Eddie. You scare the man once and he never recovers.

“How’d it go?” You chime expectantly.

“We stopped by the precinct.” Your smile drops. Why would they-? “Waylon Forge is dead. Carlisle thinks it was one of us.”

Not one of the family, of course. But a vampire. Waylon Forge. Your brow furrows at the familiarity of the name. He is was one of dad’s friends. The thought makes your heart plummet. Charlie must be so torn up.

Jasper looks down at you with a furrowed brow. The sadness eases under his gaze, replaced with the warmth that you immediately recognize as his ability.

You cast him a grateful smile, “Him and Charlie have been friends for so long. I should probably go, make sure he’s okay. Bells too.”

If there’s another vampire in town, one that hunts humans, you’ll need to keep a closer eye on your family. Hopefully the vampire won’t venture too close to town, but you can’t be too careful right now.

“Agreed.”

You give Edward a pointed look, “You have to keep an eye on her at school.”

He nods, as if that was already the plan. It probably was the moment he ran into Carlisle. Still, it’s good to know he cares about her so much already. It makes it easier to trust him with her. Surely nothing bad can happen with both of you watching out for her.

“Okay.” You turn, give Jasper a chaste kiss on the cheek before you jump off the bed. “I’ll go home. Charlie will probably be worried about me too, now. He’ll want me to stick closer for a while.”

“Be careful,” Jasper warns, tense again without your touch.

“I will,” you promise, “We’ll have to spend some more time at my place. No way I’m giving up my daily cuddle time.”

Edward balks, quickly making an excuse to leave. You giggle, a little too wickedly. It’s just so fun to make Edward uncomfortable. It is payback for the mind reading, even if he can’t help it. And all the dramatics he’s been doing lately.

“He can’t even handle that, but just wait.” You turn back to Jasper, who looks on with amusement as you rub your hands together conspiratorially. “I bet he’ll be twice as gross with Bells once they start dating.”

“If,” the blond corrects, though he’s still smiling, head leaned against his propped up arm.

“Semantics.” You wave it off. “I’ll know by tonight which way Bella is leaning.”

He perks a brow, but you don’t offer much more.

Insteady, you sing a quick good night, and add, “Make sure you go hunting, love, your eyes are getting dark.”

The blond huffs out a low laugh, but you’re already gone, ducking into your car and driving straight home.

---

When you do get back to the house, it’s quiet. The lights are off. Charlie must already be asleep, which surprises you a little. Part of you expected him to stay up until you got home, to make sure you were safe. He must be really worn out from what happened. Poor thing. You’ll have to make him his favorite for breakfast.

The sound of Bella typing meets your ears when you step into the house.

It’s almost eerie. Every ‘click’ that breaks the still silence seems to echo in your mind. Either her death or a new future.

You creep up the stairs, careful to avoid all the creaky steps. At the end of the hall, opposite yours, is Bella’s room. Her door is opened just a crack, electronic light pouring out across the carpet. It draws you closer. Slowly.

You brace yourself against the frame. The clicking pauses for a few seconds and you still. You don’t know why. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter if she figures it out. You want her to. Yet still, something lodges in your throat as the clicking continues.

Things will change.

For the better, you remind yourself. You’ll be able to talk. No more secrets. No more lying.

Taking a deep breath, you push the door open. Its quiet groan announces your entrance.

Bella flips around, mace in hand, pointed right at you. You hold your palms up, lips pulling into a tight, apologetic smile.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” you whisper.

She blinks wildly, as if to banish something from her sight. You wonder how you must look to her. Already pale skin bathed in cool, white light. The amber of your eyes shining through your contacts. Too still perhaps as you hold your position until she relaxes, mace dropping to her lap.

She doesn’t speak though. Bella just looks at you with narrowed eyes. You glance behind her, at the screen of her laptop. It’s illuminated with an ancient painting. A man leans over a woman, teeth to her neck, blood dripping down her porcelain skin.

She knows.

Dragging your eyes back to Bella, you hold her gaze. Waiting.

Until she breaks the silence, voice impossibly steady, “Are you one of them?”

You tilt your head slowly, thoughtfully. It’s a vague question. Maybe on purpose. To give you an out. But you don’t want it.

She needs to say it though. “One of what, Bella?”

For the first time, you watch her hesitate. It’s only for a second though before her eyes harden with steely determination. That’s your sister.

“A vampire.”

A grin breaks out across your lips, unnaturally wide and probably not appropriate at this moment, but you can’t help it. Relief rains down on you like a storm. She knows.

“I am.”

Bella doesn’t even flinch, just presses on, “And the Cullens?”

“Them too,” you hum, eyes sparkling with glee.

“Do you…?” She eyes your smile suspiciously.

“No. We drink from animals. For all intents and purposes, we are vegetarians.”

The silence returns as Bella mulls it all over. It must be a lot to take in. You remember when Jasper first told you. You’d been shocked for quite a while, which scared him so bad. Somehow he ended up being more terrified of your reaction than you had been at the reveal. It’s a fond memory for you now, but Jasper gets so embarrassed when you bring it up.

“Are you…scared?” You ask eventually. The silence is getting tiring.

Bella shakes her head, “No.”

“Surprised?”

You grin at her deadpan look.

“I was, when they told me,” you say, nerves finally eased enough that you can casually drop onto her bed, “Now come on, hit me with all those questions. I’m sure you have a ton.”

“How long have you been one?”

“Just about a year now. Jasper told me when I started bringing up our future together, and I decided soon after that.”

The bed shifts as Bella sits beside you, closer than you expected. You glance at her from the corner of her eyes, just to check. There really is no fear in her eyes, like she said, just intrigue, curiosity, a touch of excitement maybe.

“How old is Edward?”

“Edward?” You raise a brow, watching as her face flushes. Love bird. “I don’t know exactly. I think Carlisle changed him during the Spanish Flu.”

Her eyes blow wide, and you have to muffle your laughter. How would she react if you told her Jasper is about sixty years older than him? He’s the second oldest in the family technically. You scrunch your nose a little. The whole age thing does feel a bit weird at times.

“Does the sun hurt you? Is that why the Cullens disappear on sunny days?

“Nope. That’s a myth. So is the whole garlic thing.” Carlisle once told you it was the Volturi who started spreading those rumors to get humans off their trail.

“So why avoid the sun?” Her voice brims with eager curiosity.

Mischief dances in your eyes as you chime, “I’ll let Edward show you. I’m sure he will once you tell him.” He’ll be so theatrical about it, too. You can’t wait.

But Bella purses her lips. She looks conflicted again. You shift, covering one of her hands with her own. Your grin turns softer when, instead of flinching, she flips her hand to hold yours. Change for the better, you remind yourself again.

“Should I talk to him? Isn’t this supposed to be some secret?”

“Well, yes.” Technically you suppose. “But you like him, don’t you?”

Her cheeks heat up all over again, making her look like a cute little strawberry. That’s enough of an answer for you.

“Tell him. I promise you, things will go so much smoother once you do. He likes you too, he’s just…scared. He doesn’t want you to think he’s a monster.”

“But he’s not,” Bella says instantly, like it's obvious.

“Try telling him that,” you grumble, rolling your eyes, “You’re probably the only one he’ll believe. He’s stubborn, just like you.”

“And you,” she points out, finally cracking a smile when you pout at her. “Do you have any powers like Edward?”

“Well, no, bu- wait.” You pause. You didn’t say anything about his ability. “How do you know about that?”

“He told me about how he can read minds at dinner”

Oh, his will is far more breakable than you thought.

“Really? He didn’t say a word about being a vampire, but he told you he can read minds?”

Bella nods.

“I can’t believe him,” you snort, “I can’t. He’s such a bad liar! I leave you alone for an hour and he spills that?” You’re going to give him so much grief for this in the future.

“So you can’t do anything like that?”

“No! Which is totally unfair, by the way. Only some vampires have abilities like that.”

“What about the others?”

“Well, Alice can see the future, kind of. And Jasper can sense people’s emotions,” you explain, leaving out the details of it all. “I met a woman recently who can electrocute people. That was shocking.”

“Oh my gosh,” Bella groans, pulling her hand back in disdain.

A wild giggle escapes you, “I couldn’t help it! It was right there!”

“Looks like becoming a vampire didn’t help your sense of humor.” You feign insult, slapping a hand to your chest.

“Such hurtful words! And from my sister!”

“Shhh!!” Bella rushes to slap a hand over your mouth, muffling your cackle. “Charlie is asleep. You’ll wake him up.”

“Dad sleeps like a log,” you say and push her hand away, “We’re fine.”

“Does he know?”

“About me being a vampire?” You snort again. “No, of course not. And he won’t.”

Bella fidgets, brow furrowing, “Why not?”

“It’s dangerous.”

“But not for me?”

You wince. How are you supposed to explain that? Technically yes, but we’ve seen that you’re eventually going to get turned because you and Edward are going to fall madly in love! That or you’ll die a gruesome death! Neither really put the soul at ease.

“Weeeeell,” you sigh, drawing out the sound much to her annoyance, “Kind of. Alice says you’re not, and we kind of just go with her visions. They’re pretty accurate.”

“That’s comforting.” Her sarcasm is practically tangible.

“Can’t give you much else, girlie. You’ll just have to trust me.”

Without faltering, she says, “I do.”

For a moment, the urge to cry sweeps over you. Nothing’s changed. She still sees you as her sister, even after all this. Relief is not a strong enough word to describe how you feel. It’s overwhelming in the best way possible.

“I didn’t think you were going to take this so well,” you choke out eventually.

This time, Bella reaches for your hand. Her skin is so warm against yours. You savor it, holding her hand tightly.

“People are supposed to be scared of stuff like this.” Your voice warbles as you laugh. “You’re pretty weird, Bells.”

“(Y/n), it’s not like you’ve changed. You still make stupid jokes.” They’re good jokes. “And you still protect me, just like when we were younger.”

“I’ll always protect you,” you insist, clutching her hand to your chest. “You’re my little sister.”

Bella just nods, “Exactly. So, I’m not scared.”

Her logic is solid. Leave it to Bella to be one of the few people in the world who sees the logic in not fearing a blood-sucking creature. Granted, a vegetarian blood-sucking creature, but still. She might just be a touch crazy.

“So…how should I tell Edward?”

An easier topic. You smile appreciatively at the shift, though your grin turns notably evil when you think about how to answer. Bella narrows her eyes, growing increasingly worried as a giggle escapes your lips.

“Okay, listen. This’ll sound crazy, but what if-”

And just like that, things go back to normal. You stay up all night, talking just like you used to. About Jasper. About Edward. You share a few embarrassing stories that make her laugh, that will definitely get you killed if he figures out you told her. But it’s worth it, because you have your sister back again.

Everything you’ve ever wanted is finally in reach.

And you don’t plan on ever letting it go.

Forever and an eternity.

Maybe it will be long enough.

---

✨BONUS✨

You let out a trembling breath, looking at yourself for the thousandth time in the mirror.

“You look great,” Bella murmurs, stretching on her tiptoes to prop her chin on your shoulder, hands clasping around your shoulders.

“Are you sure? I want it to be perfect.” You worry your lip as you touch the skirt of your dress.

Porcelain white, falling in waves to the floor. It shimmers with every movement, like light dancing across the surface of the ocean. Lace swirls across the satin, curling around individually stitched pearls. It’s stunning, better than any dress you saved on Pinterest.

“Everything will be perfect,” Alice sings as she glides into the room, bouquet in hand, “I’ll make sure of it.”

“I thought that was the maid of honor's job?” You eye your sister with a teasing smile.

“I delegated,” Bella mutters, adjusting her own dress.

Of course she would. You expected as much, though your chest still swells with gratitude as you look at your sister. She squeaks when you tug her into a sudden hug, ignoring Alice’s snipping about wrinkles.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” you murmur.

Bella begrudgingly hugs you back, “Of course I’d be here. You’re getting married.”

“Still, it means a lot to me,” you insist. “We’ve been waiting to go through with it because I wanted you here.”

“...really?”

“Really.” You pull back to look at her. “You’re my sister. The day wouldn’t be complete without you.”

For just a second, it looks like she might cry, eyes glimmering with tears. But, ever the tough chick, she coughs and looks away, blinking rapidly. You giggle, patting her shoulder before turning back to the mirror.

“Are you ready?” Charlie peaks his head into the room, eyes going round as saucers as he sets eyes on you. “Wow. You look…beautiful, baby girl.”

You smile bashfully, twisting back and forth a little to make your skirt sway, “Thanks dad. And yes! I am ready! As I’ll ever be, at least.”

He nods, offering you his hand.

Now or never.

The moment you step out into the aisle and lay eyes on Jasper though, every single worry fades away. Everything in the world disappears with it.

All that’s left is him, dressed in a stunning, fitted black suit, gold eyes looking at you with such adoration it makes your knees weak. And his smile. His smile that fills your life with so much light, so much love, it chases away every shadow, every inkling of darkness.

He is your sunshine.

And you love him more than you ever thought possible.

Forever and an eternity starts with the words, “I do.”

---

That's all folks! I hope you enjoyed this series! I wanted to throw the wedding in as a little bonus :)

Thank you all for reading!

@avadakadabra93 @glaciuswduo

Edit - Okay I might add more. I just need to take a little break and work on some other Jasper fics I really want to write! But keep an eye out!

#reader insert #x reader #reader #jasper hale #jasper whitlock #twilight saga #twilight #jasper x reader #jasper whitlock x reader #jasper hale x reader #I would cuddle this man forever #Bella is weird for not freaking out #but i respect it

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goldeneyedgirl · 7 months

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AILess Whumptober Day 4: Hiding An Injury

useless. (day 4: hiding an injury).

twilight, alice/jasper, pg, eclipse-au. descriptions of wounds, light body horror, angst, ATBT-verse.

Blame @flowerslut, she picked ATBT-verse for today's prompt and it got depressing.

Proofing it tomorrow because I am sleepy, so forgive the errors. We're going entirely on the Vibes right now guys. Fun fact, we've officially established that in All These Broken Things-verse, it's Alice's left leg that is crippled (I looked and I don't think that I've ever actually specified which leg it was before now.)

When she has the vision, she immediately tells the Cullens. It’s the least she can do, to protect Bella.

(That’s a lie. She sees the red hair and she trembles, knowing that Victoria is back, so close. That Bella might be Victoria’s target, her symbolic revenge, but there is a target on her back too. That Victoria won’t stop until she is dead for forsaking James. Her hands shake as she watches the redhead dart through the woods that she knows so well, and she holds her breath until she is back in her chair in the attic window, overlooking the forest. And then she tells the Cullens and pretend she’s not hoping for someone to comfort her, reassure her.).

She recites it all, and preparations are made over her head - Bella will go to Florida with Edward to see her mother, and the Cullens and the Pack will take care of Victoria.

“It’s best if Bella doesn’t know any of this,” Carlisle says to them all and she nods, like she has conversations with Bella. Like she’s not going to hide upstairs, and trying not to think about Victoria and her rage, that streak of cruelty that was hard-earned.

(Alice has never begrudged Victoria her pain, but she’s always wondered why, after everything, Victoria wanted to pass on all the hurt and the misery.)

Four days, she has to wait. Four days of curled in a ball with her sketchbook, trying not to think, trying not to worry - to looking ahead and trying to find something reassuring in her visions, but she’s so overwhelmed that she’s too uncertain to see anything of value.

She’s on her way to shower - the one thing that Esme does fuss about is how often they all bathe - when Jasper catches her, coming up the stairs. He watches her carefully, and she moves a little faster, holding her clothing tighter to her chest.

(He can probably feel her worry, her fear. He’ll tell the others, and they’ll think she knows something she hasn’t told them, that this will all go wrong. Or maybe he knows she’s being ridiculous, worrying over old ghosts and nightmares she can’t even have. So she takes a long shower and by the time she goes back upstairs, he’s shut up in his study and leaving her alone.)

—

Carlisle once told her that disassociation is the mind’s way of dealing with too much stress. She doesn’t precisely know where he was going with that train of through, as he’d had to leave in the middle of the conversation, but she assumes that it was about her past.

She wishes he’d stayed long enough to tell her how to fix it because she’s standing in the woods with her family feeling like she’s watching herself. She’s got her arms wrapped around herself, as they wait. She tries to trigger her gift, but she’s not in the right headspace - she’s too agitated, too worried, too far away from herself to get anything sensible out of her gift. And she’s already told them everything, right down to the angle they’ll be standing. She can’t do more than she already has.

(This has to work. Everyone is getting impatient.)

And then she appears, staring at them from a clearing with a smirk on her face and a hood over her hair to conceal the colour against the dark of the forest. A smart move, and one that gives away more than the Cullens could even understand.

(Victoria is being too careful right now; she’s never bothered with that kind of camouflage before. Which means she has an agenda, she has a plan. She’s wondered that before, why Victoria is even here like this when roaming the woods at night is hardly going to get her closer to Bella Swan. But it doesn’t really matter, she supposes - it certainly didn’t during the planning session - as long as they catch her tonight.)

She takes off the second the Cullens go to move - she’s always been jealous of how fast Victoria is - and they immediately take off after her.

Towards the boundary… That’s very curious, the stench of the Pack should send her flying in the opposite direction. Surely it’s off-putting enough, even if Victoria doesn’t know about the shifters…

(She’s overthinking this. She always did that when she was with them, trying to avoid the blow to come. She needs to be in the moment, not worrying about the ephemeral parts of what is transpiring. Focus, focus on Victoria, on the rough topography of the ground with her bad leg. The rest can be worried about later.)

Victoria is fast; Alice is definitely not able to catch her when she’s half crippled - the rest of the Cullens are far swifter and it’s still not going to be enough. Victoria has always been able to outrun trouble. She’s seen it for decades. They cannot hope to catch her, they have to…

They have to outwit her.

It’s a simple plan - cut her off, let the Cullens catch her. And it makes her chest hurt, standing against Victoria like that (the furrowed scars down her side carved out by Victoria’s nails pull when she twists, she remembers Victoria’s rage and James’ amusement so clearly) but it’s going to be the only way they can stop her, they can get the upper hand. She can do this.

She doesn’t bother calling out to the Cullens; she doesn’t want to tip Victoria off. She knows the woods, knows exactly how to compensate for her lack of speed. She pushes herself faster, the scar tissue pulling tight and aching, because she wants this to be over. She wants this to be finished so that they’re all gone and dust and nothing else.

(That’s the first time she’s really thought that. She’s tucked it right down in the back of her heart; that she will never find peace whilst Victoria is still alive. She cannot walk around without fear, without terror of it all falling to pieces, with one of them still haunting her. It’s a hateful thought, proof that they got to her in the end, that she can’t find peace without death.)

And there - the curly red hair that she remembers, her stomach twisting. She’s above her, on a ledge, and it’s going to work, she’s going to be cut off perfectly. Maybe this is the one thing that she can do right, she can pull off and the Cullens will be pleased. She saved Bella, she redeemed herself for the ballet studio and proved herself. It’ll fix things. Not everything, but it will be better.

Jasper and Carlisle both see her as she launches herself off the ledge and right in front of Victoria; Jasper’s eyes wide at the sight of her. She wonders if perhaps she’s surprised him in a good way. That would be nice.

Victoria snarls at her, the hatred and rage twisting her face into something ugly. And she’s so much smaller than Victoria but she tries - she’s crouch and growling, trying so hard to be convincing enough that Victoria will choose to dart off to the left…

(Why does she hope for anything? She’s not lucky.)

Instead, Victoria hits her with the speed of a battering ram, and the pair of them explode through the trees - she can hear the Cullens yelling. She’s barely stopped moving when Victoria is back on top of her, teeth snapping and nails striking out. There’s too much momentum and they are tumbling down hill, and at some point she pulled a clump of Victoria’s hair out, and left a few good scratches too - more out of panic and defence than design, but it is something. One little moment of retribution, a drop of water in the ocean, but it is something.

Except Victoria is bigger and stronger and she’s not sure what happens but there’s a burst of pain hot and wet across her middle, the wretched pain of her skin splitting open, and it’s enough to render her useless for that split moment as she falls gracelessly into the river that marks the boundary.

(The familiarity of pain, the futility of fighting back, it hangs heavy in that moment as the Cullens and the Pack descend. It’s like being dragged suddenly under water, and she must burst back into the moment that she rests in.)

There’s not much to be said except that Victoria gets away and everyone is furious.

“What were you thinking?” Jasper snaps at her, as she climbs back up the banks and tries not to react to the wound in her side. She’ll hunt and it will heal, like always. There’s no need to draw attention.

“I tried…” she begins but Jasper has already turned away from her in disgust; no one is looking at her as they bicker with the Pack. Whatever her explanation is, it doesn’t matter. She lowers her head, and lingers behind the group. There’s the odd urge to stamp her foot, to point out that she was with Victoria for eighty years, and might be able to offer them something of value.

She ignores it. Mostly because her side hurts, burns even, and that means that there’s venom in it. Not enough to smell, but enough to make the next day or two stretch endlessly in front of her.

In the end, Victoria gets away. The Cullens are frustrated, the Pack are angry, and she gets nothing for her efforts except fresh scratch marks and her stomach ripped open.

(This is what she gets for lying. For pretending this was for Bella and not for herself.)

—

The trek home is long, and the burn in her side has settled itself in - she can already feel it in her hip and leg. Thankfully, it’s her bad leg so none of them notice that she’s walking stiffly. The walk is mostly silent, and she knows that they blame her.

(She’s glad Edward isn’t here. She couldn’t bare to have him hear her mind right now, and tell them all that she lied to them. That she wanted Victoria dead for herself and Bella was just an easy excuse. She’s ashamed of herself, and she’s made the mess even bigger.)

She ghosts straight up the stairs to the attic, with the door shut tight, before the rest of them have even gathered in the living room to call Edward and let him know that they failed. That if she’d been faster and stronger, perhaps they would have had Victoria’s head as a trophy and she could have lived in a world where she didn’t feel hunted. Instead, Bella gets to return home where Victoria still wants to kill her, still hides in the shadows and waits.

(Sometimes she wonders if Bella has nightmares. She’s glad she doesn’t sleep, because the things in her head scare her when she’s awake.)

It’s been a long day, a longer night, and she’s not surprised when she lies on the hard attic floor, right at the back where no one will see her and lets the catatonia roll over her. Dozens of little futures, most of them already lost or too small to matter slipping through her mind. She cannot move, cannot hear, and all she is aware of is the fire crawling slowly-slowly up her side and hundreds of meaningless possibilities.

(Charlie Swan will drop a red dish; Bella will take a book from her mother’s house. Esme will change her earrings. A car will backfire. A spilt glass of milk, a broken nail. Over and over the future folds.)

By the time she is back, awake and aware, it is dawn, and the fire has stopped spreading, localised entirely on her left side - from her knee to her shoulder, the venom has made itself known. And she hasn’t even checked the wound yet, and irrigating it with water might ease it a little. She should have done that when she arrived home, but it’s too late now.

She gets to her feet like an old woman, slumped and groaning, her hand clasped tight to her side. She’s going to need fresh clothing if she goes to the bathroom, so they don’t question why she’s in there, the rational part of her mind manages to consider. Her hands fumble for a sweatshirt and some leggings, not seeing them as she clutches them tightly.

(Moving makes the pain worse and the venom move further into the body. If she’d been allowed to lie still, preferably in the river water, it wouldn’t have been so bad. It never would have worked so far into her tissue. But there was no point asking; they would have left her there unguarded for her to tend to herself. Better to come back to the house, even in this state, than lie in the woods alone.)

Exactly how she gets to the bathroom eludes her; one foot in front of the other and breathe through the pain. That’s what got her this far, and it doesn’t really matter if James has just ripped a fresh wound into her or if she’s making her way through the Cullen mansion; it works just the same. But she makes it to the bathroom, to where she can flip the lock and curl up on the cold tiles just for a moment to stop the hurt.

Just a moment. She doesn’t have long. Prying herself back onto her feet again makes her want to gag, even though there’s nothing on her stomach. But she does it, getting into the shower still fully clothed.

She tries to find that distance with herself as she finally looks at Victoria’s damage, at the side of her stomach. But it’s hard; it’s not a neat wound, a little split of flesh. It’s ragged and gaping, a great flap of skin hanging loose from her abdomen. It was nails and teeth dug into an existing scar and tearing, pulling, ripping.

Her head swims, but its done. It needs tending to. No use getting upset now. Maybe she props herself against the wall before she angles the cold water in. Maybe the pain of the water hitting the open wound makes her see stars for a second, but she doesn’t make a sound. She just lets the water cascade over her, lets it ease the burn.

(There’s truly nothing that treats a vampire’s wounds beside time and feeding. Neutralising the burn is a temporary fix - the second she steps out from the water, it will return; something that weighs heavily in her mind like a terrified child.)

She pushes herself right to the limit of someone knocking on the bathroom door and asking if she’s okay; she hears Esme’s footsteps pause outside the bathroom twice, and she is regretful as the water shuts off and she is left to somehow peel off the rest of her wet clothing, drying off, and maneuver her poor body into the dry clothing on the counter.

All that good work is for nothing, because by the time she is leaving the bathroom, the pain has returned and settled in. It’s also enough for her to wish they’d just left her on the riverbank for Victoria to finish off.

She’s not really paying attention as she heads back to the attic, her attention entirely on the feeling of her flesh moving loose and free against her, on the burn that seems to come from everywhere that she keeps making worse by not staying still.

(Well, at least the water got off any venom left on the surface. That would have stopped the flesh knitting back together when it healed, and the thought that she could be left with a loose panel of skin on her side makes her feel sick. Sicker still, is how she’d have to ask for help to fix it again. So the water was worth it. She has done something to help herself.)

Jasper is suddenly in front of her, going into his study, looking down at her with a curious expression.

“Are you okay?” He asks in that low voice that she wishes was hers.

(If she says yes, if she shows him the mangled mess of her side, he’ll shake his head and ask her what she expected. That she’s stupid and foolish and useless. Maybe she’ll remember that next time. Maybe they’ve finally found a way to teach her a lesson that she’ll recall, and now that she’s finally learned, she’ll be useful to them.)

“Fine,” she says stiffly, moving faster. The next few hours are going to be bad; hopefully the flap of skin will start to stick to the wound so that she can hunt tomorrow night and help it knit. It depends on so many things, and she hopes that she can make it through a whole day before a hunt - it’s going to be sunny tomorrow, and one of them can risk it.

“Do you need anything?”

She stops and looks back, Jasper still watching her from his study door with an indecipherable look on his face. Waiting to see if she needs anything.

(If any of the Cullens were wounded, they’d be put on the couch and tended to. There would be comfort and jokes and reassurances. Like Bella. Patched up with the nice white bandages and a kiss upon the forehead and all those soft, kind things. They would care about scars, about pain, about so badly needing to hunt that the venom dries sticky and stale in their mouths. She wonders what it’s like to be taken care of.)

“No thank you.” Her hand is on the door knob to the attic and for a moment she wonders if she could ask for something. Something small and helpful, just to ease it all a little.

(She’s never been a lucky girl or a brave one.)

Jasper’s study door closes quietly but with a sense of finality, and she doesn’t look back as she slips back up the attic stairs with stiff, uneven footstep, letting the door fall shut behind her.

#ailesswhumptober2023 #ailesswhumptober prompt 4: hiding an injury #alice cullen #jasper hale #jalice #twilight fan fiction #my fic: whumptober2023 #my fic: all these broken things #alice needs a whole lot of therapy #jasper was pissed she tried something so dangerous #and frustrated at the situation #and they would have freaked the fuck out over her wounds #jasper would have been the one to patch her up #because he would be the only one familiar with that kind of wound.#body horror for fun and profit

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