Disclaimer: We don't own Twilight or it's characters, lord knows if we did, you'd be getting the story of Alice and Jasper in June NOT the story of Bree…

K: Wow… so here it is… Completed fic number two. While yes, this one is the middle child for us, it is still hard to let go. I just want to say thank you to the group of true fans of this story as well as those Jasper/Bella, Edward/Bella and Jasper/Edwards that have crossed over to the dark side to experience some Jalice lovin'. Thank you for the support, love and devotion y'all have given this fic. And you know what? Thanks to the haters too. ;)

Robs: *sniffles* It's so hard to say goodbye to this fic, the characters, everything. I want to thank everyone who has added this fic to their favs, their alerts, everyone who has EVER reviewed, and everyone who has pimped this story out to their friends. It's so amazing to us how much attention this story has gotten and it is so hard to say goodbye.

Special thanks to Amber, who beta'd this for us. We love you hard girly.

And another special thanks to our girls, you know who you are, y'all stood by us and supported us and loved us even when everything was going wrong. We love y'all and will never forget it.

And last a special thanks to all of those who stuck with this story until the bitter end. You have no idea how much that means to us.

Alice: That was a very sad story.
Tweedle Dee: Aye, but there's a moral to it.
Alice: Oh, a very good moral, if you happen to be an oyster.

Alice in Wonderland.

Epilogue- The End.

You were born Holden Edward Cullen on an abnormally bright and sunny day in May. They asked me your name and it fell out of my mouth without a second thought. I looked over at your mom and she beamed at me, positively radiant and happy tears were streaming down her face.

The look on Edward's face was one of shock and happy surprise when we told him your name. We'd originally planned to give you Emmett's name as a middle name, but for some odd reason when the time came I gave you Edward's instead. Not that I regretted it, no not in the least, I was worried that your mom would be upset about it. But she wasn't. She seemed really pleased with it and that is all that mattered to me.

We moved into our little house a few weeks after you were born, which was perfect because Grandma was right there to help us out since we were both going to college and whatnot. I ended up Majoring in Social Work while your mom Majored in Art.

A year later, we got married. We had an evening wedding in my parent's backyard, amid the twinkle lights and soft music. She wore a white dress, I wore a suit and I got chastised for kissing her a little too long when the minister told me to kiss the bride and we danced pretty much all night.

Through it all we had you keeping us grounded with your bright green eyes and jet black hair and exuberant personality. You helped keep me clean and I haven't touched Meth since that warm July day almost eleven years ago.

A few years later you asked for a sibling and we were more than happy to give you one, but that wasn't in the cards for us. You were our miracle, and it was a shock to the doctors that we even had you. So as much as you have hated it, you are and will be our only child. Hopefully being raised closely with your cousins helps to erase the sting of loneliness that being an only child can cause.

We let you follow your heart, you've taken piano lessons, played football, soccer, baseball and even though you'd kill us for telling anyone, you took ballet lessons. You've gone with me to California to visit Grandma Whitlock's grave and you and your mother were my source of strength when my biological father passed.

Your mother gave me hope and you forced me to live. I can never thank you both enough. Someday I will give you this notebook with our story and you will understand it all, understand where you came from and why our family is just a little bit different. But for now, I'm content in letting you think that we're the perfect ones and everyone else is screwed up, and you never know, you could be right.

The scars are still all over my body, I've gone to counseling, but it was you and your mother who helped me accept them. You never asked how I got them and just thought it was a part of who I was, that is what really changed things in me. You saw things in a completely different light than me or your mother could. We're quite jaded and cynical from the lessons life gave us, but you've remained innocent and have a firm belief in good and righteousness.

I love you and am proud to call you my son.

*~*~*~*

I flipped the old yellowed notebook closed, tears clouding my eyes as I did my best to wipe them away. I couldn't let Logan see, she would worry too much if she saw me cry. I understood what my dad meant about loving someone so much it consumed you, it was the way I felt about my wife.

The wife my parents both adored. We gave them grandchildren, five to be exact and my mother loved and doted on all of them while my father, quite possibly the quietest and most reserved man on this planet, would light up each and every time they came for a visit. Our children gave us grandchildren and them great-grandchildren.

Even though my father's health suffered, my mother's eyesight waned the one thing that never faded was their love for one another. While other kids' parents got divorced or grew cold towards each other, mine were always hugging and kissing, clearly affectionate towards each other. I often caught my father in the kitchen with my mother holding her from behind as she cooked and swaying to some unheard beat.

My father lost his fight against lung cancer about a month ago, my mother died in his arms on the very same night. It wasn't entirely a shock, they were both in their eighties and had lived long and full lives, but it was a double impact on my heart. I was their only child and I missed their presence. I felt guilty as I looked through their possessions, their love for me and for each other was extremely evident in every single picture they had. I found this notebook amongst their effects and despite my apprehension; I took it home to read.

I am glad I read it, I understand them both so much better now. My father's unnerving jealousy at times towards my Uncle Edward, my mother's agitation whenever I asked her about a particular drawing, and their attachment to each other. Even all those time when I felt like I was intruding, when they stood together, forehead to forehead just staring into each other's eyes.

We never lived in a big fancy house and we never a huge family but my parents were loved by anyone who met them. They would always be known for being kind and good hearted people who would help out just about anyone in their time of need. Well over a hundred people showed up to pay their respects at their funeral.

I pressed my lips against the book before I tucked it safely away in my desk drawer and walked to the kitchen to see my wife. My parents would be missed, but they left behind their story, one I hoped would never be forgotten.

End note: Reviews equal love.