Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight, dictionary dot com owns all the definitions except the last one, and the last one was written anonymously.

A/N: Jasper/Alice.

Redefining Words

"Do not say a little in many words but a great deal in a few." -Pythagoras

Words were never particularly important to Alice and Jasper.

Few words did anything more than reiterate things they already knew. There were some though, simple words, nothing-special words, that held memories for them.

They acted like a trigger, throwing each into a time and place in their shared history. The memories had redefined the words, giving them greater weight and more importance.

They might use a broad vocabulary when speaking to each other, but their dictionary of meaningful words was small and the dog-eared pages of truly relationship-altering words were few.

The words were mementos of a long life. They were just little hollow things that they had filled with meaning and when said in the right order, they would act as a guiding light through a lifetime of experiences.

Scars – (n. pl.) Lingering signs of damage or injury, either mental or physical

They came together so easily, so effortlessly. Jasper felt like he had been missing her in his life, as if her not being there had been the very thing to make him so uneasy in the first place. Alice had never considered a life without him. From those first waking moments, she had pushed herself to move closer to him.

His walls had been built carefully over time and fortified out of necessity. He was closed off and reticent, even though he knew, without a doubt what she meant to his life. She was cheerful and persistent, even during the uncertain days. Of course, there had never been any uncertainty for Alice.

After just a couple of weeks together, she held her hand out to him and tilted her head with a slow smile. He felt her want and love and eagerness. He smiled back and let his walls crumble. He forgot all the pain, everything he had worked to keep from her. He fell to his knees with want for her and she held her hands out, utterly accepting, eternally his.

Later, when the light adjusted and they were both sated, they got the first real sun-enhanced look at each other's bare skin. She was perfect, of course. Her skin was untouched, her body thin and strong, her face painfully beautiful. He was self-conscious about the scars but she had laughed gently when he flinched from her gaze. Her fingers traced the crescents lightly, sending shivers up his spine. "I've already seen them, you know." She whispered, her eyes twinkling as she met his gaze.

He smiled back at her, sharing her chuckle. "Of course you have." Jasper grasped her fingers and pulled them to his lips. "They're supposed to scare you."

"Are they?" He nodded quickly, sucking in a breath when she ducked her head down and pressed her lips to a scar on his abdomen. Jasper felt her press her cheek there and let her fingers wander. "I like them." She said the words with a passionate sort of finality. No arguing or disagreeing from anyone would sway her from her feelings.

"Why?" His voice was gruff suddenly as he realized what she was offering him. He had never sought absolution for his past sins but now that he had her here, her emotions overflowing with love for him, he thought he had never wanted anything so much.

She traced the network of raised stone up his side, over his ribs. Her fingers danced across his chest, where his heart would be beating erratically now, if it could beat at all. He felt her stretch, her face buried now in his neck as she twined herself around him. "If it had been easy, you would still be there." Alice pressed her lips to a knot of scars under his jaw. "They brought you to me."

Any self-consciousness or shame he still harbored fled in an instant. He kissed her then, aching with love for her, knowing from then on, that the scars would never mean the same thing. Never again would they mean pain or fear or terror. Now they would simply be a roadmap, a symbol of his journey to Alice.

Family – (n.) Two or more people who share goals and values, have long-term commitments to one another, and reside usually in the same dwelling place

Their first argument wasn't anything to remember. It was something trivial that they both forgot quickly. Their second and third were the same. Not even arguments really, more like little exasperations borne from being alone together all the time. They rarely argued, rarely got irritated with each other. Those first three arguments were spread over more than a year.

The fourth argument was the one to remember.

The seemingly endless search for the Cullens was taking its toll on the both of them. Alice had all her hope wrapped up in finding them, in their apparently inevitable acceptance of the pair. Jasper didn't care. He helped her because it was what she wanted but as far as he was concerned, he would be happy with just her, forever.

He felt her sorrow acutely whenever they reached another dead end. She was desperate for the camaraderie, desperate to find the people she already loved. He simply loved her. She was more than enough for him.

They had been traveling for months. They stayed outside when they could and in hotels when they couldn't. The constant traveling made the days stretch, pulled at both of their tempers from time to time.

"You want to buy a house?" she said one evening, even though he had said nothing. She said the word "house" like it was a terrible word.

"I – what?" he said, completely unbalanced by her explosion.

"You don't think we're going to find them." She sprang to her feet, her little fists balled.

Jasper shook his head slowly and stood, his hands out in front of him, trying to push calm feelings past her waves of disappointment. He collected his thoughts, wondering when he had even made a firm enough decision for her to see. "No, Alice. I know we will."

"I hate when you do that," she hissed.

He knew at once what she meant and he got his power under control. Her feelings slammed into him and soured his mood when he let the calm feelings go. "Well, I hate when you look at what I'm going to do." He spat the words out before he could stop himself.

It was an unfair thing to say and he realized it at once. She couldn't control her visions but he could control the feelings that he tried to force on her. He watched her face fall, just a little. "I can't help that," she said quietly. Her fists were still clenched but the angry edge was gone from her voice.

She turned then and danced into the trees, giving them both a little space and a little time. He gave himself a minute, then two to get himself in check before he followed her. He caught her easily stopping her with a hand to her shoulder. "I'm sorry," he said simply. "I won't do it anymore." He tugged on her arm gently to turn her around.

"Why do you want a house?" Her voice was sad and tired. "Do you want to stop looking?" She shifted her weight from foot to foot and stared at the leafy ground intently. "Do you want me to keep looking...alone?"

He nearly laughed then. The thought of splitting from her was preposterous. He grabbed her chin firmly. "No. Of course not. I know you don't see that."

She shrugged. "You keep making different plans."

He tugged her close and sighed. "You're in all of them. I want a house because I'm selfish." Alice let out a little noise in disagreement but he carried on. "When we find your Cullens, I wanted a place for us to get away. Just a little house. Somewhere far in the north. You love them." He kissed her forehead softly. "And I know they'll love you. I just wanted to be sure there would be a place for us to still just be us."

She blinked unnecessarily and smiled up at him. The Cullens didn't mean as much to him as they did to her. They would, but not yet. He couldn't see a family beyond her and she knew then that no matter how much she loved them, if he hated it there, if he simply couldn't adjust to the lifestyle, she would be content, if not exactly completely happy, to hole up in his little house for eternity.

No matter how hard she searched, her family was always there, always at her side, always steadfast. Jasper was her family.

Beautiful – (adj.) Delighting the senses or exciting intellectual or emotional admiration

He thought she might want a fancy wedding. Instead the church was nearly unadorned with the exception of a few white bouquets and ribbons on the benches lining the aisle. Their honeymoon was even more of a surprise. Just a trip to their little house in northern Canada. He thought she would want Paris or some place tropical but she had smiled, her eyes alight as she told him what she wanted. Just him, just the two of them in their sanctuary.

Jasper was standing at the front of the little church, feeling impatient and desperate to see her. He was holding his breath against the tantalizing smell of the very brave minister. Rosalie stood next to him and he could feel Emmett shifting excitedly at his back.

Esme and Carlisle were the only guests in the weathered wooden benches. Jasper's eyes were trained on the double doors at the back of the church. He barely heard Edward start the wedding march or Esme and Carlisle's shuffles as they stood from the benches. He didn't hear his carefully held breath whoosh from his mouth or the hinges of the doors as she pushed them open.

He only heard her footsteps. Ten steps. It took ten steps for her to redefine the word beautiful. Ten steps brought her to him. She gave herself away in a simple white dress. Excitement and quiet love radiated off her form. She held a clutch of small white flowers and met his gaze as her steps carried her to his side.

Jasper knew that no matter how long he lived, this would be his definition of beauty. His soul mate giving herself freely to him, the people they loved surrounding them, witnessing their bond. With simple words, they tied themselves to each other, to the Cullen's civilized lifestyle, and to whatever shreds might remain of their humanity.

Mourning – (v.) To show grief for death

James's revelation had crushed her. It was easy to see. She had always had so much hope, had always assumed, with her comfortable lack of knowledge, that someone mourned for her when she was turned. Now, so much made sense.

Her family – no, she wouldn't think of them that way – the humans who had been her parents had given her over to be harmed. They had sent her away, afraid of her uncontrolled visions. Once she got the sliver of information she needed, Jasper was able to use his connections to find other things, records and photographs.

The answers to so many of her mysteries were scattered on Jasper's desk. She poured over them, addicted now to finding the truth, unsure of why it even mattered so much. She had been drugged into near catatonia and her turning had frozen her memories in her drug addled brain. Her hair had been sheared off and was only starting to reclaim some of its length. No one had ever come to visit her in the asylum. There had been no funeral, no shock at her loss, no one to care.

Jasper stood beside her as she read, carefully fighting his instinct to calm her. "Even my name isn't right." She said softly, breaking the silence that had stood between them for hours.

"What is it?" Jasper asked. He moved to her, lifting her and sliding into the chair before she could answer. He cradled her in his lap.

"Mary Alice." Her voice held a hint of a sneer.

He pressed a kiss to her hair. "Poor Mary Alice."

"Yeah," she whispered. She shuffled through the documents and fingered a yellowing photograph. "Poor Mary Alice."

He took the photograph from her hand and studied it carefully. It was unmistakably Alice. She had been a lovely human. Her hair had been long and sleek, her eyes sad and soulful. He could feel his Alice settling down, could feel her getting her emotions under control. "Would you rather have not known?"

She leaned her head into his shoulder and fingered the collar of his shirt. "No." Her word was simple and delivered on a shaky sigh. "Everything I always wondered about makes sense now."

He shook his head. "There is no sense to that." He motioned with a nod toward the papers that described painful treatments and huge doses of drugs. "Poor Mary Alice," he said again.

She buried her head in his neck and together, wordlessly, they mourned for a girl that had died without notice, and healed the one that had risen from her ashes.

Oath – (n.) A solemn appeal to a deity, or to some revered person or thing

It had been decades since he had felt such despair, such panic. He could do nothing while she was gone. Nothing but sit and wait. He replayed memories in his mind. He planned the death he would seek if she was lost. He planned their reunion. He hoped so hard it hurt. And he waited.

When she called from the plane, he wished, for the first time in his long life, that he could weep. If there had ever been a time for happy tears, it was the moment he heard her voice.

Esme had laid a comforting hand on his shoulder as the mood shifted, as they waited through their last hours before it was time to go to the airport.

He stood away from them, wanting to see her first. The crowd parted when she entered the terminal, Edward and Bella behind her. The humans' innate discomfort allowed him a clear view of his wife. She moved directly to him, her eyes and gentle smile only for Jasper.

His fingers twitched with a need to touch her, to make certain she was real and alive and his Alice. He settled instead for sending her all the love and relief he could stand. She tilted her head and he gave her a half smile his fingers finally reaching out to brush lightly against hers before he tucked them back into his pockets.

Later when they were safely in their room, he pulled her close. "I really hope you won't make that a habit."

She shook her head and let her forehead rest on his chest. "I'm sorry." She lifted her head. "I love you."

He smiled. "I know you do. I don't know if I have ever been so worried."

"Jasper." She said his name as if it were an oath, a promise. She stretched on her toes and he lowered his head so their lips could meet.

They let the all the worry and sadness and relief and love flow through that kiss. He hoisted her up and she wrapped her legs around him familiarly. "You're all right," he said between kisses, as if to reassure himself.

"Yeah." She buried her face in his neck and traced well known scars with her lips and tongue. "I'm sorry," she said again.

He hugged her tight. "I won't live without you." He said the words in a whisper but they were completely unnecessary. He rarely acknowledged life before her and he refused to consider one after.

"That's why I had to help them." She pressed a kiss to his neck. "If it was us..."

She let the words trail and he chuckled. "If it was us, I would have double-checked."

Alice raised her head and smiled before letting it fade, her face revealing what he could already feel. She had been just as worried as he had, her relief was just as acute, her need for him just as painfully real. "I'm sorry." Her words were a plea this time and he remembered the absolution he had once sought from her.

He brushed his lips over her forehead. "You came back to me."

She traced the scar at his temple and this time, her word was an oath. "Always."

Love – (v.) Just a word until someone comes along to give it meaning

Words were never important to Jasper and Alice.

Definitions changed, words fell out of use or were used too often. Some were misused and forever altered.

Alice spoke often and quickly, thousands of words a day. But when it came to her and Jasper, their dictionary was small, the definitions erased and replaced with vivid memories.

If "scars" and "family" and "oath" would conjure specific and shared experiences, there was one seldom uttered word that would throw each into different memories, thousands of them. They didn't have to profess their love at every turn for love to permeate every moment of their common past.

It was an empty word when they could each feel it radiating from the other.

Love to them was their lifetime of memories.

Love was reaching out a hand and knowing someone would be there to take it.

Love was forgiveness without consequence.

Love was giving new meaning to old words.

And for Alice and Jasper, love was very often simply having the confidence to use no words at all.

Note: Well, this wasn't my first fanfic by a long shot, but it was my first Twilight fic. I'm working on a little Esme/Carlisle one shot but I thought I'd get Jasper and Alice out of my head first. Please review!

-Brynna