Notes:Written for pexylexy's prompt at jpex, 'You're haunted by a past / A past that brings you down / So you throw it all away again'.
Title: A Sweet Dream
Words: 859 words
Disclaimer: Nothing that you see here do I own. The characters aren't mine, so I don't make anything from this; they all belong to Stephanie Meyer, who I am not.
A Sweet Dream
There are times where Jasper finds himself getting sick of it all. He's so tired of being the weakest link of their family, the one who can never quite shake off the consequences of his past. The experiences continue to haunt him, chipping away at his resolve, at his hold over himself; that thin string of control that is always threatening to break.
He's never been good with restraint, and he hates himself for it, he hates how easy his family makes it seem to abstain from the eternal temptation of warm human blood. But he's different; he's had a different upbringing, a different past.
Jasper is getting tired of hoping for a chance at redemption, the one time where he'll be stronger, where he can prove that he's not useless. He wants to prove that he can be strong too.
He's tried of being the weakest link.
Edward watches Jasper. He doesn't think that the other notices, but he's never been too sure; especially now, when the older vampire's thoughts are flitting about like a hummingbird's wings. Never staying in one place for too long before flickering to another strand.
It's unnerving, almost, but Edward's long since grown used to it. The constant movement... it's nice, refreshing almost. Only when there's silence does he ever find himself feel lonely, it's the constant swirl of thoughts that now seems to keep him grounded.
Jasper likes to linger on his past. Edward's noticed that that's a rather constant in the various strands and tangents that the older vampire goes off on, and he's slowly learning more and more about him.
For some reason, the doubts and self-loathing strike a chord in him, making him feel angry.
Every time the thoughts turn to the darkness, Edward finds himself loathe to look away; to turn a blind eye to the obvious struggle that Jasper faces every single day; and with every failure, he sees that it's getting harder and harder for him to keep up the illusion that everything is fine.
It's like his past has shackled him to it, and is slowly dragging him back, taking over his life, mind, and thoughts. The edge is catching up to him, and soon it's going to drag him under and he's going to start to drown.
There will be no saving him then.
Every time that Jasper comes back from yet another failure, Edward can feel a little more of him is lost. His seeming 'weakness' is slowly chipping away at whatever little bit of humanity that the vampire has left, and it's breaking Edward's heart.
Finally, the time comes where he just can't take it anymore.
It's late when Jasper stumbles back, his eyes bright red, the smell of human blood fresh on his breath, his skin, his lips. But there's a dullness to those eyes, a lifelessness has sunken in, and it could take many years of work to get rid of that. Edward, though, is willing to invest that time in Jasper, more then willing, he's made that his purpose in this half-life.
When Jasper steps up onto the porch, his head snaps up, seeing Edward simply standing there, like a great marble statue. It's almost as if he was waiting for him to return. He waits for the waves of revulsion, of pity, of something that he's supposed to expect.
There's none of that, however, all that he feels is this wave, a wave of complete longing for him of all people. Edward wants him, he wants to help him, he doesn't care about the slip-ups that he's been going through, that have been coming more and more frequently.
Silently, Edward steps up, wrapping his arms around the older, taller vampire, and tucking his head under his chin. For the briefest of moments, Jasper hesitates, before he returns the gesture. Edward exhales in a soft tuft of air that ruffles the older vampire's collar; he doesn't care about the blood that is still wet and is smearing across his own clothes.
Clothes can be replaced, Jasper can't.
"Even if you don't want it, I want to help you. Will you at least... let me try?" There's a painful inflection of honesty to it that was underscored by the feeling of almost aching heartache to it. How could he not have picked up on this?
Edward slowly leans back, and there's something in his eyes that Jasper's never seen there before. It's something that he's seen very few times, much less felt, and the intensity of it nearly takes him off guard. Gold meets crimson, and then Edward's tilting his head up, expectations radiating off him as he waits for Jasper to comply.
Then, carefully, Jasper leans down; it's almost as if he's afraid that there's some way that he might break Edward. A tiny smile breaks on the younger vampire's lips, but he says nothing as Jasper closes the distance between them.
For a first kiss, it was short and chaste. The lingering taste of human blood made Edward's arms tighten just a little around the blond vampire, but he knows that he has to let go, if only just for now.
It's a start, and they have much longer to work all of the problems out.
They can do this.
I shouldn't write when listening to a lot of symphonic metal and Japanese rock, because it really just makes me want to go off and write something else. Anyways, enjoy your really odd angst (at least, I think it's odd).