Author's Note: Yes, this is the end you all have been waiting for. This is the end that is going to make you want to murder me. Because I am horribly mean and you will most definitely hate me. Oh, yes, I know that you-- my faithful readers-- will probably be outside my house with pitchforks and torches. I have known since.. Oh, two chapters ago, that this would be how it would end. So, enjoy this chapter as much as you can. Oh, and it will be broken up into two different POV's.... Because I can and the second POV is likely to be what makes you want to murder me. Love ya!


- - - - - - - Jasper's POV- - - - - - -

Two months have passed since the final battle of the Volturi. Two months since the pain and mourning settled over our family, a constant reminder of all there had been, all that we had lost. Pain and anguish are our lives now, every day a blanket of it seeps over us. It's so strong, so powerful that I begin to doubt there is a chance that this feeling will ever be able to leave us.

We lost so much that day. Not only those we had cared so strongly about, although that was certainly enough for anyone to have to take, but we also lost of freedom. Our peace. Word spread quickly of the 'vegetarian' vampires that destroyed the Volturi. It's as if Maria and her army, the Denali clan, the nomads, the Amazonians and the Egyptians did nothing to help us destroy them. Overnight we were forced into the position of power.

Two months of lesser vampires coming to us to settle the scores between covens over such trivialities as territory. Land. As if that was the most important thing above all else. The power and control Maria had so coveted lay within our grasp, yet none of us wished to lay claim to it. God knows we couldn't place that power into her hands. We have since moved north to stay near the Denali clan to try and fall back into the norm of living. Eleazar and Carmen had gone missing after the battle, so none of us knows if they simply ran away or if they were killed. Tanya and Kate think the latter, and we are hardly in place to argue with them.

The months have passed with Alice's mourning, so much more potent to me than any of the others. Not even Edward's despair could torment me a tenth of the way Alice's does. I try to comfort her, but all she can do is shy away from me. I don't blame her for her rejection, though it would be easier for both of us if she would only let me in. Two months with no smile, no jokes, no joy. All that Alice was has fallen away into this shell of the woman that I so love.

Our homes had always been filled with boisterous laughter and joy, giggles and jokes. Music. Light. Now it is only stony silence and we all tread about as one would walk through an ancient graveyard. Whenever the hint of a smile begins to appear on any of our faces overwhelming guilt sets in on them and me. So often now young Nessie wakes from her sleep in the night crying. Crying for Bella, for Carmen, Eleazar, Seth, Paul, Embry... Friends she had known since she was a baby that were no longer able to be there at her side. Edward is there, though, every time. Comforting her and crying with her for the loss of his Mate, her mother.

And each time a sick pleasure overwhelms me. I don't want to seem callous, because I am not trying to be-- but the surge of pleasure isn't that my sister is gone. Or my cousins or anyone else. I hate that they are gone because I love them as I never really knew I could. But that could have been me. It could have been Alice that had fallen and I would have had no one able to keep me afloat like Edward has. So, though I mourn for my family and my friends-- I don't fall into that same level of misery with the rest of my family.

You see, I have hope, still, even when no one else feels and ounce of it. I have hope that everything can begin again and life can continue on and blossom into something more extravagant and beautiful than before. After all, from the ashes usually arises a new chance. And I'll be waiting there for that chance to take flight and help them as they had all helped me before. I am a new man and I have all of eternity to make things right again.

I stroll through the backdoor and into the kitchen, the light is dim but the room seems lit up as all white rooms do even in the darkness. There are no sounds in the house, not a voice whispering or the creak of a floorboard. It's almost as if no one is home, though I feel everyone's emotions from all different directions. It is rather odd that I had yet to hear Rosalie and Emmett being together-- not that I minded terribly, but it was unusual. I thought for sure that they would snap out of the dreariness first. But they are still as quiet as they had been for the last several weeks, so I make my way up to mine and Alice's room silently. The door opens without a creak and I stare at Alice's tiny form curled in around herself. It's the same as it has been since we came here. So, I glide over to the bed and gently lift her light form in my arms and mold myself around her.

For the millionth time I am confused and delighted by the way she fits perfectly in my arms. Her slight weight is barely even noticable while I rock her tenderly back and forth in my arms. Her body relaxes just slightly, but it is enough to give me the small burst of joy that I can make her feel a little better. I run my hand gently up and down her spine and she uncurls herself, allowing her head to rest against my chest. I listen to the gentle intake of breath, watching her chest rise and fall. Being like this makes me fall in love with her a little more each time. Gently, I slide my hand up her arm until I brush it against her waist, then I curl that arm tenderly around her. A small hand closes over mine, so I flip my hand over and tangle my fingers with hers.

I don't know how long we sat like this, but it hardly mattered. Any time with Alice was better than anything else. I would give up anything for her, and being without her for so long-- well, I have to make up for it. I rarely let my poor wife get away from me for more than an hour at a time. It seems as though she doesn't mind, though, since she welcomes me into her arms without protest.

Silently I shift away from her and lay her down on the mattress of the bed and wrap my arms around her possessively. She willingly moves closer to me and rests her head on my chest again, half draping herself over me just as she knew I wanted her to. Any space between us is entirely too much. My right hand slides up her back, over her neck and tangles into her short hair.

It doesn't take long before the trembling begins, alerting me to the silent, tearless sobs that I had known would soon come to pass. I place feather-light kisses to the top of her head, just as I always do, and wait out the storm. They seem to be coming less frequently lately, lasting much shorter time frames than before. Within twenty minutes the trembling ends and I turn us over carefully allowing her to sink back onto the bed. My lips gently brush over her brow, her cheeks, her lips, her chin-- my hands trail down over her hips and her waist, gliding up over her ribcage one settling over her still heart while the other makes its way down her leg.

It's not sexual. Or sensual. Certainly not meant to be.

I'm just afraid that one day she will be gone. So, just as I do every day after she cries, I familiarize myself with her body all over again, forcing the memory into my head so I will never, ever lose it. She lays there beneath me, eyes tightly shut with her breath still coming in the ragged breaths that had shaken her body after her sobs. The breaths are gradually slowly to a normal place and her eye slowly crack open. The familiar gold tint is back to her eyes and each time she turns her lovely eyes up to meet mine I feel so happy.

It's wrong to be this happy when she is not.

It's wrong that I don't mourn our losses as the others do. As she does.

But I can't cut myself off from this happiness any easier than she could turn off the sorrow. I had thought I lost her before. I already lived this misery. I won't do it again, not even for my favorite sister.

Finally content that I have her memorized all over again I settle back beside her and curl myself around her. She conforms to my shape immediately while I push a wave of love and comfort over her. Her tiny hand has taken hold of mine once more and she squeezes my hand gently to reassure me that she got the message and that she loves me, too. "Alice." I breathe her name out in a whisper so quiet even she had trouble hearing it. But she turned her head toward me obediently, and I closed the distance between us without pause. It is just a gentle kiss, but it speaks volumes of the love I hold for my Mate. My wife.

Though she doesn't smile when I pull away, her eyes have just a glimmer of that light lurking there.

And I know that everything will be okay. Someday.

- - - - - - - Aro's POV- - - - - - -

Two months since I returned here, to Italy. Two months since I turned my wife away and sank into this world of endless night. Plotting. Constantly plotting. Everyone thinks that I have given up, that we-- The Volturi-- have been defeated. Two months since I lost her. Is it an eternity or only a day? Sometimes I cannot tell the difference anymore. Most of my Guard has fallen, or simply left me here. They doubt me, doubt that I can rise again.

But I am the one who brought us to our level of power. One hit won't keep me down for very long. Alec is still here with me-- a stronger brother than Marcus or Caius ever could have been. And he is angry for the loss of his beloved sister, Jane. Oh, yes, he is definitely going to help me take down Carlisle's clan once and for all and I will bask in the glory of the walls of flames and smoke rising on all sides of me as each of them is torn to pieces and burned for what they have done to me. Others will only wish they had been granted that same luxery of death.

Felix carries an unconscious woman to me, her head bouncing with each step he takes. The long curtain of copper hair fans out around her head, making my mouth water in sudden thirst. The human girl looks so much like Renesmee Cullen that I feel my lips curls back over my mouth in silent amusement. I will enjoy ripping this girl's throat out to feast on her delicious blood. The girl is placed in my lap and I twine my fingers roughly into her hair as I so often do now a days. Her eyes flutter beneath her lids, but she gets no chance to fully open them before my other hand raises and slices my nail across her throat. I sever her vocal chords so she cannot scream and close my mouth over the sudden gush of blood. This meal is far messier than I am accustomed to, but lately I have been living more as the beast than the respectable leader I had always been. It's a bit of a relief, to be honest: not having the world of Vampires watching my every move. My meal is over quickly and I am covered in blood. Perfect. I always enjoy going to the holding cells in this state-- it makes my captive prisoners antsy.

My group walks onward, a small child is held in the cage of Demetri's arms. He trails behind me and Alec while Felix leads our little 'party' to the cells. My mind flickers back to that last day before all Hell broke loose. I think of all I have lost and all I will gain when I reclaim my place. I think of each of the Cullens, ignoring empty cells as I walk right on past them. I will enjoy killing Carlisle the most, I think. Carlisle, his Mate Esme... They have no use. They would die. Rosalie and Emmett are also useless. I have brawn and beauty already. Renesmee will be a fun addition to my little Coven. Edward and Alice will join me, though they will be punished severely for what they have done. I will destroy that wolf boy in front of the child so she knows that no one will be there to rescue her... Yes, that is only fitting. Jasper will be killed in front of Alice.

Or perhaps I would hold on to him, to ensure that she will do as I say. Hmmm...

And Bella.

I chuckle softly to myself as I push the door open to the last cell in the block, my red eyes locked on the two figures curled up in the darkest corner together. Raising a hand, I bid Demetri to bring the child forward where she is set upon the floor. One of the figures in the cell begins to tremble violently and I allow a grin to cross my features at the involuntary movement. Behind me, I sense Felix reaching into the pocket of his pants, then I see a stale loaf of bread thrown to the floor. We silently close the barred door and watched.

Two months since her last feed, and how she can resist that child's tempting blood I will never know. This has been or daily routine since that fateful day as we had made our way back to the jet, I turned and chanced a glance from the corner of my eye. I remember forcing Felix to stop and allow Alec to help me on the jet while I sent him to gather the pieces of the wretched girl that was so close to being engulfed in flames. Not a piece was missing so it really only took two days for her to regenerate... I remember Felix starting to climb into the jet when the wolf attacked him, trying to make him let go of the pieces.

He was knocked unconscious almost immediately. Hardly more than a child, and thinking he could protect someone against one of my Guards. My plan for guard-dogs was not quite in vain. I smirk slightly as he hedges close to the little girl and noses the mound of bread. I hear the child whimper in fear, and his ears flatten against his skull worriedly. He scoops the bread up in his mouth and darts back over into the corner with the vampire and I feel my grin broaden.

Pitch black eyes meet mine and a feral growl emits from her throat but I pay no heed. Why would I? It's not as if she can escape. Two months of not feeding certainly isn't helping her regain strength any quicker, that is for certain! The child back up against the bars until they press against her back, and I am struck with inspiration. I kneel down slightly behind her, though she doesn't hear me. My eyes lock with the vampire's wide eyes and I wordlessly grab the child's hand and force it through the bars beside me. Her shriek of terror is music to my ears. I turn her wrist over and silently rake my nail over her tiny wrist until blood begins pooling. Her cry of pain makes me smile as I stand up and back towards the door of the cell block.

"Happy feasting, Bella." I call over my shoulder to her and close the door behind us while we continue down the corridor to the conference room.

Yes, there was much planning left to do.

End Epilogue.

Author's Note: That's the end of Memories.... *hums merrily* So.... Anyone wanna murder me yet?