A/N: I don't own Twilight – it belongs to the genius that is Stephenie Meyer. I do own these incarnations of her characters that play games in my mind.

This story is not in any way related to my first story, "The Beginning of Bella and Edward" – just so we're clear! I have no idea how often I'll update but I'm aiming for once a week. The first chapter will hopefully be out before Monday next week though – this is just to set the scene.

Happy reading!


"Night dad," I called, poking my head into my father's study.

"G'night son – don't forget to set your alarm – wheels up at oh-six hundred."

I smiled. Once a Marine, always a Marine, I thought fondly. "Yes sir. See you in the morning."

I headed upstairs and paused outside Rosalie's room when I heard sobs coming from the other side. To knock or not to knock, I mused.

Taking a deep breath, I knocked softly on my sister's door. "Rose?"

"Come in," she sniffled.

I opened the door and stepped through. Her room was as bare as mine, save for the bed and a few clothes hanging over a chair. "You ok?" I asked, sitting on the end of her bed.

"I just don't understand why we have to go, Jasper!" she wailed, throwing herself at me and crying into my shoulder.

Startled, I tentatively wrapped my arm around her and rubbed her back. We might be brother and sister, Rosalie older by fourteen months, but we'd never been particularly close. "It's ok," I whispered. "Dad'll come visit, and Uncle Charlie lives in a nice house, you'll have your own room still, and you'll have a heap of new guys to win over!" I teased.

Rose snuffled against my shoulder for a second longer before sitting up and wiping her tears on the hem of her pyjama shirt. She ran her fingers through her wavy blonde hair and gave me a watery smile.

"Thanks Jas," she said. "I think I'd better just get some sleep."

I stood and headed for the door, where I turned. "To quote the Major downstairs, don't forget to set your alarm. Wheels up at oh-six hundred."

That earned me a genuine smile. Our father had no idea we referred to him as 'The Major' behind his back. It was one of the few jokes that Rosalie and I shared. "Better get up at oh-four thirty," she giggled.

I smiled back. "Night Rose. Sleep well."

I closed her door and stopped by the bathroom on my way to bed. I set the alarm on my phone as well as the one on my nightstand for 4:30 the following morning. As I lay in the dark, I pondered what was to come.