I do not own Twilight or any of its characters. I do not, in any way, profit from this Fanfiction endeavor: all creative rights to the characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. I'm just copying off her coloring sheet....and improvising a little.

This story, then, is dedicated to my faithful readers—and especially to the tireless reviewers—who have truly been a light and an encouragement in my life. I was going to be participating in The Twilight Twenty-Five competition, but due to my continuing ill health, I will not be able to.

This is, likely, to be my last work. I hope it is an inspiration to other writers. It is close to my heart.

Part II—Ransom

The next two days flew by in a flurry of activity and excitement. The women had returned from Anchorage having purchased several thousand dollars in new furnishings for Edward's old room and construction supplies for his new one. Our once-settled home became the centerpiece for our extended family as Eleazar's coven became frequent visitors.

"You know, without Edward to torment, this week was proving to be a rather uneventful one," Irina laughed. "The immortal vicissitudes that comprise our existence should never surprise us—yet, they never cease to amaze!"

Eleazar also seemed to find the new couple extremely intriguing, though, despite my reassurances, he remained wary—

"You should be careful, Carlisle," he warned. "Such a collection of talent within your coven might raise suspicion. I would hate for any of the Brothers, Caius in particular, to come down on you because of the undue sense of a threat. Tread cautiously, especially with that fighter. He may cause unnecessary trouble."

My instincts told me that he was right to be chary, and I almost agreed with him. Whenever the strange young man was near, there was an odd sensation, deep down—a presage emptiness that made itself known just enough to be of concern. I couldn't quite name the feeling, yet it was so familiar.

However, I could not find it within me to place preconceived blame upon Jasper. In my experience, such notions became self-fulfilling prophecies—I preferred to believe the best about people.

"Why the hell is Edward's shit out here?"

Emmett's choice of phraseology warranted a stern reprimand from Esme, which, as usual, went unheeded beyond a cursory, "Sorry, Ma'am!"

"However coarse, I would like to second that query," came Edward's voice.

The two young men had just returned from hunting to find the car outside, and upon investigation, had found the garage to be the temporary storage facility for Edward's belongings.

Introductions and explanations were smoothly carried out, momentarily—Edward's extra-sensory perception was especially convenient for such situations. Soon, much in the way that I had met our two newest companions, Edward found himself on his back as Alice tackled him to the ground in a fierce hug. Though Edward remained visibly uncomfortable and tense, even as the rest of us found the situation incredibly risible, Jasper remained a stoically vigilant observer, giving nothing of his thoughts or concerns away.

Alice squealed. "Just wait until you see what we've done with the room!"

"No, thank you," Edward quickly replied. "I don't want, or need to know what you've done in my room."

From the look upon his face, it was clear Alice had unintentionally shared more than just the logistics of furniture and decoration.

I had just returned from a trip to the city with several of the most recent newspapers, as was the custom when a member of either family made their way into civilization. He and Esme had been discussing a recent disagreement between Tanya and Irina when I arrived, and Emmett joined us in the living room to catch up on recent events. His interest in the world was unique in our families.

"Anything interesting going on, Carlisle?" Eleazar asked.

I sighed, placing the papers on the coffee table. "McCarthy apparently made a mess of things for the Department of State—but it's all just more Soviet suspicion and talk of nuclear warfare."

"Nuclear warfare, eh?" Emmett jumped in, reaching for the nearest copy. "There's a way to make sure not even the vampires survive. We'd be annihilated in seconds."

Eleazar chuckled. "There's nothing new under the sun, Emmett—countries have been holding each other at a stalemate since before I can remember. Humankind is wrought with greed and power-hungry, fear-mongering leaders…and humans do not think for themselves anymore."

Esme slightly disagreed. "Many humans do not think for themselves anymore."

"You know, Carlisle," Emmett said after paging through an older publication. "I've said it before—we'd get the news a lot sooner if we got a television set."

"Emmett, we don't have electricity," Esme chastened.

"We could fix that, too."

I laughed. "I promise that we will have both electricity and a television in our next home. Do we have a deal?"

Emmett grumbled, mollified but not pleased.

Just then, Alice bounded into the room with Jasper in tow, freshly returned from their hunt with Edward and Rosalie. Edward sat down beside me on the settee, stating that Rosalie had gone over to spend the evening with Kate and her sisters.

"Any good news from the human world?" Alice sang.

"Not likely," Eleazar sighed, though he still grinned at her. "But you would know, wouldn't you?"

She giggled lightly. "I'm more interested in the two-standard deviation negative shift in the value of stock prices than in Ingrid Bergman's illegitimate child."

I, as well as everyone else in the room, looked at her incredulously.

"What?" she piped. "The New York Stock Exchange is a wonderful system—it's immensely fun to follow."

"Hmm," Eleazar mused, giving me a deliberate look. "I wonder to what purpose we might put this new development..."

I shook my head. "No. Absolutely not. It would be deceitful."

Alice stood behind my chair and put her hands on my shoulders, practically shaking with her enthusiasm. I looked up at her.

"Oh, but long-term investments require more strategic planning," she quipped. "I'm not very good for that, but Jasper might be—he's so good at such things." She looked back to him, but he remained impassive. "Don't you think we might have just a little money to experiment with? Esme said we have inexhaustible resources, anyway."

"Practically inexhaustible," I corrected. Looking over at Esme, I hoped for some support, but she merely hid her grin behind last week's print of The New York Times. I felt my resolve crack, and Alice gave me a quick hug around my shoulders before thanking me repeatedly.

Edward stiffened only a moment before Jasper suddenly turned and stalked from the room, quite without any warning. Alice caught up to him in the hallway and harsh whispers were exchanged, but he continued outside without pause.

"Jasper, wait!" she called, running after him. "Where are you going?"

His footsteps halted in the icy garden, Alice's falling silent soon after; the four of us remained still within the house, shooting each other concerned glances as we observed what intuition knew to be a rare dispute between the couple.

"I need time to think, Alice. I don't believe this will work."

"What are you talking about? They love us—"

"No," he growled. "They love you."

A brief, hushed interlude followed, and Esme sat down on my lap, curling dejectedly into my embrace and resting her head on my shoulder. I entwined our fingers, feeling a similar emotion at the scene unfolding outside; or, perhaps, Jasper was allowing us all to feel some, or all, of what he, himself, was going through. Regardless, the jovial mood from before had entirely dissipated, an almost mournful atmosphere surrounding us—but what were we grieving?

There was a light shuffle on the packed snow, suggesting that Alice had shifted her weight.

"Jasper Whitlock," I imagined her hands were defiantly on her hips, her expression nothing shy of exasperated. "You're jealous! You're jealous of the attention I'm getting, and now you want to leave. It's not my fault you purposely push people aw—"

"No," he barely sighed, yet the tortured sound was enough to render the vivacious young woman mute. "I didn't tell you to make you feel badly; I just want you to know how I feel. I just…wish you had told me."

"Told you what?"

"That you only needed me until you could find them. It's clear I'm not needed any longer."

I could hear the whispering brush of cloth—Alice had pressed up against him somehow.

Her voice was tight as she spoke. "What could make you think such a terrible thing?"

"You've never been this happy—I could never have made you so overjoyed." There was more movement, and then Jasper's heavier footsteps retreated from the house. "I just need time."

Alice followed him, her voice soft. "All right, we'll—"

"Not we, Alice," he stopped her, a foreign rasp thickening his hard tone. "Not this time. Alone…I need to figure this out alone."

Moments passed in absolutely silence as the sounds of his departure faded into a hollow vacuum. Esme, Rosalie and Emmett looked at each other in complete helplessness—I could sense their desperation. Alice and Jasper, together, had already become a part of our family.

Yet, concurrently, I realized that Jasper had only been a part through Alice. Over the past few days, I often wondered why I felt a sort of kindred loneliness whenever our family was together, and now I knew why. Jasper had been trying to tell us—or, at least, me—how he was feeling. But I hadn't paid attention. Perhaps none of us had. Alicehad continually captured our attention, and though she frequently brought the young man into our company, it had been all too easy to become enthralled and overwhelmed with her presence.

Slowly, the normally ebullient young woman returned to the house and wandered back into the living room. Her bright expression had dulled, immeasurably, and she looked absolutely forlorn.

She sat down beside Rosalie, who immediately wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Don't worry, Alice—he'll be back."

"I can't see it! He hasn't decided if he will, and I can't see him at all!"

Rosalie was entirely unconcerned. "Edward leaves all the time when he's emotionally constipated. Men just aren't good at talking about things and need time to cool off."

"Some men aren't good at talking," Emmett smugly qualified. "But Rose is right. He loves you—he'll come right back."

However, after two days, it seemed Emmett would be proved wrong.

Edward had returned mere hours later to an intensely grave ambiance, and was slightly overwhelmed by the various accounts effectively thrown at him upon his arrival.

Alice's sudden pessimism affected us all in different ways. Esme needed me more, physically, as was her general predilection whenever something troubled her. Her need for me eased my own desire to seek Alice and Jasper's reconciliation personally—seeing my family in any sort of anguish was the most stressful situation in which I had found myself of late. Yet, as usual, my Esme knew what I required, and, though she could not remedy it—for, indeed, no one could—she found a suitable substitute. I made it a priority to be near her whenever I was not otherwise needed, simply offering comforting touches and kisses, if not also the complete and total consolation of intimacy.

Rosalie and Emmett seemed to partake in a similar method of coping, though it was hardly an unusual frequency for them. Emmett was the least affected by the atmosphere, though seeing Rosalie so empathetic with Alice did discourage him, slightly. His ever-confident wife seemed to be determined to keep Alice's mind off her troubles, and actually managed to succeed in that task, somewhat. Introducing the "tiny terror," as Emmett dubbed her, to the realm of cosmetics became the best idea Rosalie had formed in recent years, and countless hours were spent in the application, removal, and reapplication of the substances.

Through it all, it seemed that Edward was the glue to keep us all together. He graciously offered himself as a balm to our communal sadness: for Esme, he played his piano for hours; he entertained Emmett—and all of us—with suggestions for competition; and though Rosalie hardly admitted it, she, too, found herself relieved by his strong presence.

However, Alice mainly kept to herself. I would often find her sitting stationary in a solitary nook of the house, pensively gazing out a window. Sometimes it was obvious that she was desperately utilizing her ability to find any hope, even a diaphanous one, of Jasper's return. But even for this, Edward seemed to be of service. For most of an afternoon, they sat together in absolute silence—at least, to our hearing. It was clear from even my brief observation of their inaudible conference that there was much exchanged.

No one dared to interrupt.

Alice's mood brightened shortly thereafter, though she was clearly not herself yet. I knew it was because she had been understood. There were many times I had been blessed with the opportunity to simply open my mind to Edward and share the burdens within my thoughts—though I often felt badly for doing so, he always assured me he didn't mind, regardless of how much more beleaguered he seemed afterwards.

Yet, in this instance, he, too, seemed improved after his day with Alice. I wondered what she told him, or what she had gleaned from the experience, for both seemed immensely less wearied.

The uplifting effect was hardly lasting, though it did seem to make Alice more inclined to discussion. It was nearing the third day of Jasper's absence, and she was growing more frantic by the minute.

"He's right, isn't he?" Alice wailed from upstairs. From what I understood, she and Rosalie were in the process of sorting and reorganizing the latter's ever-growing collection of clothing. "I know I wasn't intentionally excluding him, but I did, didn't I? I was so distracted…"

Rosalie offered words of consolation, but they seemed to be rather ineffective, so I decided to offer my own opinion. Walking up stairs, I knocked lightly on the door before opening it to find Alice sitting on the bed, staring blankly at the wall.

"If I may, I'd like to say one thing."

Alice nodded without meeting my gaze.

"We don't know him as well as you do," I continued. "However, it seems as though you're the only friend he has in the world, in addition to being his mate. Until he can trust us all, and can accept our friendship as you have, I think he will only see your connection with us as his loss. He certainly needs to change his perspective also, but perhaps you should give him a bit more one-on-one attention until he can better open to us all."

She was across the room in an instant, her arms wrapped around my middle as she tightly hugged me.

"I'm not sure if I had a father like you when I was human," she smiled. "But if I did, I doubt he would have been as good at hugs as you are."

I laughed as Rosalie shot Alice a bewildered look over her shoulder—though she was pretending to be absorbed in her task, it was clear she was thinking of her own humanity again. The particular look of regret in her eyes rarely made an appearance without such reminiscence.

In an instant, Alice stiffened and pulled away, bolting out of the room and downstairs.

"Jasper, Jasper, Jasper!" she chanted as she raced outside and down the porch steps. I followed, meeting the rest of my family outside.

Her tone was frustrated, as though she was in suspense. "Where? Where?"

Though we were confused, it was obvious that his scent was nearby, and fresh, yet it was impossible to sense if he was physically present. Again, as in the beginning, there was no sound or movement to give him away if he was close.

"What's going on?" Emmett asked no one in particular. No one had an answer, apart from the obvious.

Alice leaned down into a crouch and froze for several moments. It was obvious she was listening, but with which sense was unclear. With perfect timing and a calculated spring, she leapt into the air—

And landed in Jasper's arms in the next second. He expertly caught her, as though it was something he had practiced his whole life. His arms held her tightly while her hands wove into his tangled mane; their lips met with an unprecedented passion.

Alice pulled away only long enough to suck in a necessary breath to speak. "I know—me too."

Without acknowledging anyone else, Jasper carried her past us and into the house, to their room. It was clear they would not be emerging anytime soon.

The rest of us were left to bask in the relief of their reunion, though we didn't quite know what to do. Edward walked inside with only a slight smile to indicate that all was well, and the beginning notes of a gentle waltz rang out from the piano soon after. A rather stunned silence had fallen over our small group—that is, until a wide grin broke out on Emmett's face.

"All right!" he crowed. "C'mon, Rose! Let's go celebrate!" And with that, he swept his wife into his arms and ran off into the forest.

I smiled as Esme closed the few feet between us, lowering my head to whisper against her lips, "Do you, also, wish to solemnize this occasion with a similar avowal of unending devotion?"

She smiled, pressing her mouth and body to mine, caressing and affecting, soothing and enticing with every touch. "When do I not?"

As the lark heralded in the new dawn, Esme and I paid it observance from our own private wing of the house. Naturally, we were not alone in our enraptured embrace. Even as we lay in repose, momentarily sated, the first whispers of forgiveness floated on the chilled morning breeze from another part of the house.

"I didn't know how to tell you how I felt," Jasper admitted. "I never thought it would affect you as it did me."

"Yes, you did cause quite the fuss; but it's my fault, too. I took it personally when I shouldn't have."

"I'm a fool."

Alice laughed. "I already knew it—but that makes two of us. We're inseparable, you know. Even from a distance I can still feel you."

"I was never far away," Jasper said.

"I know," she sighed. "And so did Edward."

Alice and Jasper joined us later that morning after an epic snowball battle had begun. Emmett claimed that Jasper would be an unfair advantage to either three-membered side, and decided that he and I, as the oldest in the group, should comprise one team, playing against the remaining five. Accepting of their terms, we retreated to our snowy fortress.

As we worked in relative silence, I could not ignore my curiosity. "If I may ask: what swayed you, in the end?"

He replied without looking up from his work. "To agree to stay?"

I nodded, feeling the coldness of the fine powder spread through my hands.

"You didn't fight," he stated simply.

I raised an eyebrow in a silent appeal for clarification while he organized his ammunition into indistinguishable piles. There was clearly a method, but I did not see it.

"Upon our first…meeting," he continued with almost comedic emphasis on the clever euphemism for his assault. "You are the only vampire I have taken down who did not even want to fight back—without my influence, that is."

Jasper paused, physically as well, but the space was filled with the century of memories and wounds that now painted his person, that composed the man who sat so proudly beside me.

"You did not struggle in anger or retaliation—you simply wished to be free.

"I've decided," he surmised, "that is also my wish. Beyond living in peace with my Alice, far more than happiness, I want freedom—from the grief, the guilt, and the pain that I have found in the past. If a bit of strife is the ransom, then so be it."

His eyes met mine—and I noticed that they were now a lighter shade of red, an almost russet mixture that lightened the longer you watched it. He had hunted in his absence—fed from an animal, though he detested it so, and without prompt.

"Even in defeat, Major Whitlock," I replied, "let us never surrender."

He smiled, and it was the first genuine expression of the sort I had seen in him. I could feel the familiar warmth of joy spread through me, and I instantly knew that Eleazar had been wrong—Jasper would be all right. We would all be all right.

A missile of white dust sailed over our heads and struck the tree behind us, followed by a familiar whoop from Emmett.

"Are you ladies ready to have your asses beaten?" he called, a firm smack and subsequent shout of pain sounding a moment later. "Oh, c'mon, Esme—they don't care."

"Yes, but I do," came my Love's reprimanding tone. "I can honestly say that last night definitely proved that Carlisle is no lady, and I would thank you to find another, more appropriate, method of provoking them."

A chorus of laughter resounded with mine in the crisp air, my amusement increasing when I imagined the bashful look that likely appeared upon Esme's face with her bold statement.

Picking up his first choice of projectile, Jasper tilted his head as he listened for a few moments before holding it, as a tribute.

"To freedom?" he proposed with a grin.

"To our continuing liberation," I offered.

Do me a great favor, if you would.

Should you happen to see a friend, or even an acquaintance, having a bad day:
Tell that person how much they mean to you; that they are important; that they have worth; and that they are loved.

Even if it costs you pride or a moment of time you don't have to give away. It can make a world of a difference.

Peace and freedom to you and yours.