Supplemental 3 – Jasper's POV
*Trigger Warning: vague discussion about childhood abuse.
I don't know how exactly I knew that she had died… I just knew that she was gone. As a six year old, it didn't make any sense to me… I had woken up and walked into the kitchen to get Rosie some breakfast. Back in those days, Rosie was my responsibility as she was only three, and Mama had other 'more important things' to worry about. As I passed her on the sofa though, I paused and looked at her. I didn't have to touch her or say her name… even to my little brain, I knew that she wasn't with us any longer and I felt my heart skip a beat.
After I got Rosie some toast… all we had in was some bread and a little bit of peanut butter… I left her watching the little television that Mama had put into our bedroom to keep us quiet. It only got three stations, but one of them showed cartoons in the morning.
I didn't want to stay at the little house anymore, and so I had gone into the living room to dig through the heap of laundry that needed doing, and pulling out an extra set of clothes for both Rosie and me, I stuffed them into a plastic grocery bag. As I was getting us dressed, I heard someone banging on the door, and I pulled Rosie into the closet with me to hide. I heard him come in… one of Mama's special friends… and then I heard him say 'oh, shit!' before he left again, slamming the door behind him.
Rosie didn't want to leave that day… she was crying for Mama, and I tried to hug her and tell her we were going somewhere better. Finally I lied to her and told her we were going to the park… and it was only then that I could get her to come with me, her ratty-old blanket in her hand.
I didn't know where we were going at that time… but I knew that there was a school just down the road, and though I had never gone to school yet at that point; I knew that schools were full of good people who helped kids. When we eventually walked through the doors of the building, I stood there for a minute, terrified of the choice that I had made and unsure of what to do next. But then, as a teacher or maybe she was administrative staff (All these years later, I wasn't sure of certain unimportant details any longer) turned the corner to head towards the office, she saw us standing there awkwardly… my little grocery bag in one hand, and Rosie's hand in my other.
That woman, led us into the office that day; speaking the kindest words to us I had ever had addressed to me. The only thing that I told her was that our Mama was dead and we had no home any longer.
At first I refused to say much else, repeating the same sentence to the principal of the school while Rosie sat quietly beside me. Rosie didn't talk much yet… I was the only one who really interacted with her, and she knew better than to make noise in front of any other adults already. Not knowing what else she could do, the principal brought us out to her car and drove us into the police station, less than three blocks away from the little house we had run from.
Those first weeks were almost harder than the years of abuse. It was so normal for me, that I didn't know kindness at all. Talking about the horrific things I had experienced, had nearly traumatized me further, especially when Rosie and I were first separated… placed for a short time in different care centres.
By the time I had opened up enough to even mention the abuse I had experienced (it wasn't really a surprise – both Rosie and I had gone through physical exams the day we left), I was finally placed with a family who had experience in fostering kids who had been abused. Within days, and at my non-stop insistence, they had managed to take in Rosie as well, wanting to keep us together.
It took a long time for me to trust both of our foster parents. The first step in learning that they were okay was when they were able to finally bring Rosie home. The next stage was not only learning that the couple wouldn't hurt us… but also that they were there to care for us. Even as a child of three and four, I had helped out, and eventually by age six I had come to be Rosie's care-taker. Mama was usually there… and sometimes she had yelled at me to do something different 'with the baby', but for the most part, she was too busy to care for Rosie… let alone me.
When Mr. and Mrs. Hale tried to help me with anything, I would kick up a tantrum and insist on doing things myself. I didn't like that they wanted to do things for me at all. Rosie however, was young enough that the majority of the trauma was easier for her to overcome, connecting to the Hales much quicker and easier than I had. Once her fear began to dissipate, she even developed a special bond with Henry, becoming his little girl within a few weeks, and wrapping him around her finger. For a long time I just sat back and watched, always on guard, always ready to run at a moment's notice… a grocery bag always hidden beneath my bed in case I had to run with Rosie again.
Two years after Mama died, the Hales officially adopted both Rosie and I. Thankfully, things had started to shift, and I had more good days than bad days at that point. Not long after the papers were finalised and we officially became Hale children, our new father accepted a position with his company in Washington, moving us part-way across the country, and settling us into a little town called Forks.
That fall I started school in our new town, feeling at ease though I was a grade behind others my age… the first year I had lived with the Hales, they had home-schooled me to bring me up to speed. At six years old, I could only parrot things I had seen on the television through re-runs of children's programs. When I did eventually begin school in Texas before the move to Forks, I had entered a year behind… in the beginning I hadn't even noticed, even though I knew that Rosie had entered only two grades behind me. If it wasn't for that late start, I had to admit that I probably never would have developed such a close friendship with Emmett… even when Rosalie started to befriend Bella, Edward and Alice.
It wasn't until some of the other kids in my grade found out that I was older than the rest of them, and as kids do… they became cruel at first. Obviously I hadn't shared any of my past, but of course rumours swirled around and for a few short days I was the odd one out again… at least until Emmett interfered, putting his arm around my shoulder and glaring at the kids who had been mocking me.
At first, I tried to avoid the guy. I was a little upset that he had to step in to protect me… my old nature shining through as I tried to prove that I could take care of myself without help. After it landed me in the principal's office for starting – and finishing – a few fights, my reputation was safe though, and Emmett was persistent. Soon we were hanging out regularly, often joining our younger siblings – and Bella of course – to all do things together. Eventually our parents all began to interact as well, and within another year, all of our families began to plan around us all spending time together.
The day of the fair, we had all been there… that was why everyone had spent so long wondering how and why Bella had snuck away on her own.
Emmett was my best friend. There was no doubt about it… I could always count on him to lift my spirits, fight alongside me, and generally cause mischief. We shared a lot of similar interests in the games we played and the sports we followed, and we just seemed to click together. But what our families hadn't realised when Bella first disappeared, was how close I had been to the girl. We had met through Edward and Emmett and Rosalie and Alice; but we also interacted at school fairly often – both of us opting to help out in the school library, and we both participated in our elementary school book club. One I had discovered reading as an escape, it had become a comfort to me – a way to escape sometimes painful memories… and Bella herself had simply always been a voracious reader. It was during those quiet times together in the library, shelving the books that other students returned, or in the minutes following our book club meeting at the end of recess, that I began to open up to her.
Overall she was quiet. But she was the good kind of quiet… a listener who didn't feel the need to comment or try and placate me – even at our young ages she seemed to have a wisdom beyond her years. Eventually she had learned more than I had shared with anyone else… to an extent even more than I shared with Rosie at that time. She didn't understand it all, but she didn't need to.
About six months before she went missing, we had spent a morning in the library before school began… shelving quietly before a new teacher walked in. Right away I froze… feeling the fear spike within me immediately at the familiarity. Of course it wasn't one of Mama's special friends, simply someone who resembled one of them… but nothing could shake the feeling. Bella didn't know what to do. At nine years old, she just knew that I was scared. After he left I told her what I had thought about when he had walked in… how he reminded me of one of the men who had hurt me before Mama died. She didn't need to know the details, and she simply hugged me while I broke down. It was the first time that I had cried since everything had happened… it was the first time I had cried in six years.
The days after she disappeared, we all cried… but nobody really knew how much she had meant to me. It was strange. She was three years younger than me, and I had no romantic interest in her at all, we were strictly friends but on a deeper level.
After a few weeks, we all began to feel the loss even further. Poor Edward was like an empty shell without her, and I could understand why. The two of them were connected deeper than anything I had witnessed at that point, and for their ages, I doubted I would ever witness again. Even my relationship with Alice hadn't started until we were much older… the same for Rosalie and Emmett. But Bella and Edward… they were soul mates, even as children; but Bella and I… we were also best friends.
Twelve years later, my phone buzzed several times in a row. It was unusual for a Thursday afternoon… most of our family and friends busy with work at that time of day. Glancing down I was surprised to see a message from Edward, and missed calls from both Alice and Emmett. As I picked up my phone, thinking I would call Alice back first, another message came through – Rosalie this time.
Bella's back. They found her… alive. – Rosie
I didn't respond. I simply set my phone back and leaned back in my chair. It took me nearly an hour before I picked my phone back up and scrolled through all of the new messages to go back to Rosie's words to confirm what I had read. Browsing through the rest of the messages, I noted the same words coming through from everyone from the family… all of them wondering why I wasn't replying. The reality was, that for the rest of the afternoon I was frozen… images from before replaying through my mind, the fear of seeing her again spiking as I imagined the torture she had most likely endured – messages from Emmett had been anything but vague as he detailed the things that Edward had already shared with him.
By the time that Alice and I finally made it to the hospital to visit with Bella and the daughter that everyone warned us about, I was trying my best to simply remain calm, and to also support my fiancée. She was a nervous ball of energy and the guilt was growing deeper within her now that Bella had been found… it wasn't that she and I had given up hope… it was just that it had been twelve years.
When we made it to her room and stood at the door, I saw the girl first, bounding over towards Alice and immediately introducing herself. The warning that we had been given on the similarities to her mother, had not prepared me for what I was facing… a clone of the girl I had befriended and trusted so many years ago. Her features nearly identical – aside from the size and the obvious lack of sunlight and nutrients she could have been her mother. Immediately upon seeing me though, I watched as she shuddered and pulled back while Alice introduced me; glancing at Bella in the hospital bed, I saw a familiar reaction – a fear spiking and growing at my appearance.
It took months of phony smiles and a false bravado for Bella before she really began to feel comfortable with me again. Of course I understood why, and I was willing to give her whatever space and time she needed to adjust not only to me, but to life in general again. I won't say that it wasn't hard as I watched her connect to the rest of our family and friends, but still shy away from me… but I knew it was important not to push her.
At Christmas, I saw Nessie's meltdown, and I recognised her anger. Bella was at a loss for words on how to comfort her daughter… most likely experiencing some of the same emotions herself. That was when I knew it was time to request permission to speak to Nessie.
"I'm sorry that you had to know bad people before you met the good ones." Nessie's smile faded and I saw the knowing look in her eyes. I didn't expect that feeling that hit me when I saw her connect to me in that way. From that moment, I knew the fear that she had previously felt at my appearance was faded to an almost non-existent level. I knew that we would be able to interact a little easier now.
Following Christmas, the child's words, and the wisdom beyond her age rang through my head on repeat… she was definitely intelligent, much like Bella had been before when we would spend time talking about books and life together.
Thankfully, it was only a few weeks later that Bella herself requested to meet with me in private. Not only had speaking to Nessie helped her, but it had also done something to Bella… sparked a reminder or a miniscule remnant of trust within. By the time that she met with me, although nervous… she was suddenly willing to open up about much of her experience… sharing with me things that she had never before shared with anyone else. Not that she didn't want them to know… but that she knew that unlike the actual experiences, the feelings and emotions associated with them were actually quite difficult to explain to someone who had never felt something similar.
That day marked a remarkable milestone in our friendship.
From that first meeting with her in the diner where she first began to open up, our friendship began to bloom again. It was much different from the childhood book-club friends we had been. Now it was somehow deeper, both of us belonging to a different sort of club… one that no person should ever have to join, especially children.
Ten years later, I watched as all of our children ran around Esme and Carlisle's yard, all of them screaming and shouting as they played the games that Alice had laid out and co-ordinated.
It was a beautiful fall day, and while the obvious reason for the party was a celebration of Henry, Nessie, and Bella's birthdays… the less obvious reason was that it had been a decade since Bella and Nessie had been found. There was a silent acknowledgement among the adults, as well as Nessie as we celebrated with cake, presents, and balloons… an afternoon filled with joy and laughter, met with somber glances, and flashing memories.
"Look at Ella and Miles." Bella's tone was light as she joined me on the deck. I was sitting back quietly, observing the scene in front of me for a few minutes.
"Just like us." I laughed as I saw the two children sitting together at the edge of the property. A few years back, Carlisle had hauled in some massive rocks for the kids to play on – they created a fort of sorts and had led to hours upon hours of imaginative play for the children. But today, as the others were all enthralled with Alice's games, Miles and Ella had grown bored and were now seated on the rocks together, a pile of storybooks between them.
"Book club." She chuckled, sitting in the chair next to me.
"Book club." I smiled back at my friend, my sister.
A/N: So I felt that I should include this supplemental. I've had most of it written since very early on, as Jasper is probably one of my favourite characters ever; and throughout the majority of this story, his role was not very prominent. But I always felt that Jasper and Bella had this special connection and that it should be recognised. I hope you enjoy this little peek into Jasper's history and the bond that he and Bella shared.