An Officer and A Gentlemen Contest

Title: Unexpected Peace

Your pen name(s): NCChris and Sparabella (sparagus and Clurrabella)

Branch of Service/Profession: vampire army

Pairing: Jasper and Peter

Disclaimer: We don't own Twilight or its characters. This fic is rated "M"--if you're under 18, please stop reading here.

If you would like to see all the stories that are a part of this contest visit the "An Officer and a Gentleman " C2 Community:


Unexpected Peace

Peter's POV

I was trying to ignore the nagging discomfort of the fresh bites and a heavy heart as I surveyed the battlefield in front of me. We were deep in the South, West Texas to be exact, and, unfortunately, I had come to know the area well. The task had fallen on me to do several long nights of reconnaissance for Maria and gather information for the battle that had just been waged.

The plumes of purple smoke rose against the familiar mountainous horizon, darkening the once brightly lit sky as teams of vampires moved around me in perfect and rehearsed synchronization. We often used this large open canyon as a "tactical defense location", as the Major liked to call it. Maria's army had been based here for the past twelve years, and today's agenda was no different than any other day. It was hell on earth, and the sooner we finished our business here, the better.

The desert sprawled out for as far as I could see, broken only by the outline of the distant mountains on the horizon. I tried to keep my attention focused on the soldiers who moved around me, making sure they were doing their jobs and not fighting with one another. I refused to acknowledge the flecks of ash, which were now steadily raining down around me like a macabre downpour as I barked out commands to the men and woman who scurried to complete their assigned jobs.

I grimaced inside as they ducked and weaved in and around one another, anxious not to disappoint. It wasn't that long ago that I had been in their position, and I knew their fear well. For the best part of our existence, we were immortal, yet around here, eternity never lasted for these soldiers for longer than a few years. I had been saved their collective fate, as Jasper had seen something in me and requested that Maria move me up the ranks. That fact didn't exactly give me any sense of security, for we were all disposable to her; we were merely pawns in her game of conquest.

As each small grain of ash fell, landing on my shoulders and in my hair, a wave of unease flowed through me. It didn't matter how many times dead vampires snowed on me, it was still fucking disgusting. Fighting a grimace and a vague sense of unease, I tugged my hand through my hair with a frustrated growl as I tried to shake the debris and ash free, entirely disturbed as I wondered whose charred remains I was handling this time.

A wave of amusement washed over me and I looked up to find Jasper motioning a group of six soldiers to move another mound of body parts closer to the third pyre.

"I don't see what you find so damn funny," I growled under my breath, knowing Jasper would hear.

After a long moment, Jasper turned to face my general direction, brushing the ash off his own hands. The group he was directing marched away from him, before he finally made his way over to me.

"You do this every time," he shrugged, seemingly unperturbed with the situation.

I wasn't fooled by his nonchalance. His eyes always betrayed his discomfort.

"Doesn't mean I have to like it...I mean, who is this?" I asked, holding out my freshly coated arm and fighting the disgust that rolled off of me in waves.

Jasper watched me for a long moment, his features returning to his careful and stoic mask, perhaps feeling my disgust and discomfort. I let out a deep sigh. I knew he hated this lifestyle as much as I did; we all did, but there was little else we could do.

"Back to work, Peter. I need this section cleared within the hour," Jasper growled, his change of tone signaling his return to his role of authority.

I watched as he turned and crossed over to supervise another group of soldiers that scavenged clothing and other items from the wreckage of battle. I rolled my neck, feeling each vertebrae click in quick succession as I turned back to my pyre. I kept a careful inventory of each body part I tossed into the purple smoke-laden pyre. Head, left arm, right arm, left leg, right leg, torso…head, left arm, right arm, left leg, right leg, torso. It was a never-ending litany of death.

A vicious snarl sounded somewhere behind me and broke my attention away from my routine. I threw the lifeless limb in my hand onto the fire before dusting off my hands and turning around to see what the commotion was about. I knew that snarl and knew nothing good could come of it; I'd even been on the receiving end of it more often than was strictly healthy. It was the sound of the Major's displeasure, and I wondered idly what unlucky bastard was on the receiving end of it this time.

As I completed my turn, I saw the devil's own whore, Maria, recoil as Jasper pinned her by her neck against a nearby Berlandier ash. I could see the venom dripping from Jasper's bared teeth as he forced his face against hers, his grip on her throat tightening as he growled, spitting venom in her face. Maria's answering snarl echoed throughout the canyon, and, as though my instincts were taking over my actions, I took an involuntary step toward them.

Before I had time to fully comprehend the situation, Jasper slammed Maria back into the unfortunate tree hard enough to crack its aged trunk. The hardy trunk didn't stand a chance as Maria's body crashed through it, splitting it into several pieces as she collided with the hard packed ground. I watched wide-eyed as Jasper turned sharply on his heel and ran off into the sparse copse of trees and scrub brush, without so much as a glance backward.

I knew that Jasper had been clashing with Maria more and more often, but as Maria lay stunned on the ground, I knew shit had finally hit the fan. The lifestyle we led was wearing on Jasper, that much was clear. I could see it in his erratic behavior, and I knew he wouldn't be able to take much more without an outlet for release. Yet this situation, this was out of character, even for him. I was concerned and couldn't shake the unease of feeling like something would be changing soon. It was an uncomfortable feeling, and usually when I got it, it stuck around until something did, indeed, come to pass.

I quickly forced my attention back to my assigned duties, gathering the twitching body parts of the fallen vampires. I heard a light thud as Maria jumped to her feet, resuming her position as head bitch. She made quick work of disbanding the group of vampires, which, like myself, had moved closer to the scene. Several bodies moved past me quickly, back to their work stations without a word. I returned to my monotonous rhythm of discarding the remains, letting my attention wander as I worked.

I tried to block out Maria's demanding commands from behind me as I thought back to a different time. Though blurry, I could still remember a time when my life had held happiness and peace. It seemed in this new life, there was a never ending barrage of violence, hate, and pain.

Jasper had been my entry into this existence, and though I knew that logically I should have hated him for it, I couldn't. I knew he abhorred it as much, if not more, than I did. I had felt the regret pour off of him, his ability to project emotions showcasing his own inner feelings in quiet moments.

I had not been able to completely break through to him, though I had tried. It was clear he needed a friend, and after all he had done for me, as much as he could given the circumstances, I would be there when he realized that need.

After what seemed like hours, the final limb was thrown into the fire, and I made my way over to Maria. I knew my place, even if I despised it. She would expect a report and whatever other obligations she chose to impose. If it was possible for a vampire to be nauseous, I would have been. She enjoyed playing with her favorite soldiers after a battle. Sometimes I was counted as part of that elite group. Jasper always was. I could only imagine that given recent actions, those chosen would be in for a very uncomfortable evening. Maria was vindictive and sadistic.

Casting my eyes downward in a submission that I didn't feel, I addressed her.

"We've burned the remains, ma'am. What else do you require?"

I could feel her eyes on me. Maria was a ruthless bitch, and somehow, I knew that she was deliberating my fate as I stood before her. I would not give her the satisfaction of showing my fear; I would take whatever pain she wanted to heap onto me, and I would do so in silence.

She circled around me until she stood behind my back. My senses were screaming at me. I could feel her penetrating stare on my back, and I did my best not to flinch as her breath whispered against my neck, her razor sharp fingernails running along my jaw, grazing a fresh bite. I hissed low and deep as pain blossomed in the wake of her less than tender caress.

"I want many things, mi amor, but today, you are not one of them," she purred, "You're free to occupy yourself however you see fit."

I remained motionless until Maria finally stepped away, gathering a few of the other soldiers before leading them away. I released a shuddering breath.

I knew what I wanted to do, I just had to do it. Jasper was out there somewhere, and I was going to find him. I had to do so very carefully. I had made strides with him in our friendship; he no longer tried to dismember me when I asked him questions, and he seldom growled at me when I would leave him books that I enjoyed. However, I knew that he would likely be in a particularly bad mood after the battle and his confrontation with Maria, so it would not do to rush into his sanctuary.

I took off through the underbrush at a slow trot. It was easy enough to follow Jasper's scent. It was obvious he had not tried to hide his trail, another out of character action to ponder. Everywhere I looked, there was evidence of Jasper's temper. I continued to follow his trail, not wholly sure what I would find at the end.

Jasper was unpredictable at best and deadly at worst. He had trained me and everyone else around here. I tried to push away the harrowing thought that if Jasper wanted me dead, I would be. I, instead, tried to focus on how I always seemed to be able to judge just how far to push him. I just hoped that my feeling that I was doing the right thing was true.

As I continued along the trail of destruction, I began to pick up the sound of water lapping against the hard-packed soil. I broke through the dense scrub brush into a small clearing. Jasper sat motionless against the trunk of another Berlandier ash. There was a small pond near him, and the moonlight glittered off its surface. Jasper's attention was turned to a book in his lap. I was fairly sure it was one of the many I had left in his quarters over the last several months.

I remained motionless at the edge of the clearing, my vampiric senses battling with my desire to go forward to him against my better judgment. Jasper, for his part, did not acknowledge my presence. I hoped that meant that he was not bothered by it.

"Peter, I know you're there," he murmured, never taking his eyes off of the book in his lap.

I took his statement as permission to join him and made my way across the small clearing to sit against the tree at his side.

"How did you know it was me? I don't have a scent."

Jasper didn't answer; instead, he calmly turned the page and continued reading as though I hadn't spoken. I waited a few moments as he continued to ignore me. He wasn't projecting any irritation at me, so I figured I could push him a bit more. I opened my mouth to speak again, but he cut me off before I could.

"There are other ways of identifying you, Peter."

He must have felt my curiosity, because he closed his book with a sigh. I saw that he had been reading The Red Badge of Courage by Stephen Crane. I wondered if he identified with the struggles of Crane's Henry. I imagined that the novel might hit close to home for Jasper. The topic of the novel, The American Civil War, was liable to bring those memories back for him. As if he could read my mind, he began to speak again.

"Henry was afraid while in battle. He ran when he should have fought. He didn't find his courage until he found out that he and the other men were pawns in his superiors' war."

Jasper spoke softly, raising his eyes to meet mine before continuing. His eyes were like windows into the infernos of hell. His pain was laid bare for any brave enough to look into his eyes.

"Peter, I thought that I was Henry. I was always Henry before. I'm not anymore. I am the superior. I make soldiers, and I destroy them. I am death, Peter."

I could finally feel his pain and despair. He was allowing me to feel it, to share his burden. Before I could respond, he continued.

"I could feel you, Peter. You feel…different…to me. I would know you anywhere."

I didn't know what to say or do. I knew he was reaching out to me. I knew he hated this life as much as I did. I just wasn't sure how to answer him, so I let the silence linger between us as I sat next to him, my back resting on the same tree as his. I looked out over the pond water, pulling my knees to my chest and waiting for him to continue in his own time.


The pain and turmoil had become too much to bear. I'd finished my responsibilities at the battle scene, but the argument with Maria had pushed me over the edge, and I knew if I'd stayed there back in the clearing just seconds longer, she surely would have been ripped to shreds and burned in the pyre with her enemies. As much as I despised her, I couldn't kill her.

She feigned her love for me, her respect, her affection and devotion. It had gone beyond the words she didn't mean; it had gone as far as Maria forcing emotions foreign to her capabilities to make me think that I meant something more to her than what I actually did. As furious as the prospect made me, I had resigned myself to my fate long ago; as much as I abhorred it, I had little choice in the matter. She was my sire, and my life had been pulled into this monstrosity of a nightmare to serve her.

So, I escaped from the pain of our enemies. I escaped from Maria's sick and demented satisfaction as she enjoyed her favorite part of the battle, watching the smoke rise to the sky, a symbol of her victory, a symbol of her power. I escaped the barely controlled newborns and their emotions that bounced from what would be equal to a human adrenaline rush, to thirst, to anger and fear, to pride and excitement and back again all within just a few seconds' time. Each and every emotion felt so strongly by each of the dozens that fought today.

I escaped the one other being in our army whose feelings ran similar to my own. His pain, guilt and torment mirrored my own so closely that I could no longer bear to be near him at the end of a battle. His emotions only amplified my own, making it nearly impossible to take another step forward in any direction, but had me longing to throw myself in the fire with my enemies just to escape the horrendous torture of this life.

So I turned, I ran in fact, to the only reprieve that I knew, the only thing that I'd been able to find that would coax the smallest amounts of peacefulness within my being. I ran until I found the small pond I'd noticed while scouting the area the day before, dancing and glittering in the light of the full moon, and plopped myself down under the tall ash tree, reaching in my satchel to pull out what had been given to me as a gift.

Gift. Such a strange, unfitting word in my world. I had, of course, understood the concept of a gift as a human. Yet since the time that Maria had changed me, I'd never received a gift from another being—had never really been given much of anything from another being. I drank my fill of blood from humans, though that hardly could be considered a gift, especially not from their perspective. I'd had my share of days locked away in Maria's bedroom, and as much as she forced her faux feelings into my system, her offering of herself had not been a gift, either. No, this first gift I received only a few months ago from one of the hundreds of newborns I had sired.

Peter was different than the rest of them. Not only did he have slightly better control of himself than the others in his training group, his emotions were that of a mature vampire. He felt deeply, not on the typical just-below-the-surface newborn level, and not only did he feel the negative spinning of bloodlust and recklessness, aggression and fear, he felt compassion and love.

I felt his approach through his emotions before I heard him coming through the brush. His emotions were all over the place, which was to be expected after a fight as intense as the one we had just finished—it was truly the only time Peter ever came close to being overwhelmed with his conflicting emotions. He was getting better at controlling himself, though not as good as he would be once he finally got past this first year.

If he got past this year...

Maria had already been talking of terminating the group with which Peter was changed. I would fight her to the death on his destruction, though. He was the only person in this existence that I could call a friend.

He was trying to keep quiet now, but I could feel him, sense him even beyond my empathetic sensory. It was a connection both perplexing and intriguing to me.

"Peter, I know you're there," I said quietly, not moving my eyes from the pages before me.

I welcomed his presence. It had already soothed my tattered spirit.

"How did you know it was me? I don't have a scent."

I smiled at that and the curiosity behind his question.

"There are other ways of identifying you, Peter."

His curiosity grew, and I sighed, closing my book, and setting it on the dry grass beside me.

"Henry was afraid while in battle. He ran when he should have fought. He didn't find his courage until he found out that he and the other men were pawns in his superiors' war," I paused, searching his red eyes for a glimpse of understanding at what I was telling him.. "Peter, I thought that I was Henry. I was always Henry before. I'm not Henry anymore, Peter. I am the superior. I make soldiers, and I destroy them. I am death, Peter."

The words made my entire being recoil. I hated who I was. I hated what I had become and what I was used for, but even as I said the words to him, I knew that, though I was a superior, heartlessly ordering my soldiers into certain death, I, too, was just a pawn. I was a pawn of the ultimate superior of our army. I always had been, and always would be, Maria's pawn. I let the sadness of that thought creep from me, allowing Peter to feel what I felt, to know something of myself.

"I could feel you, Peter. You feel…different…to me. I would know you anywhere," I admitted quietly.

His emotions first reflected surprise, before they blanketed into a warm peace, a peace that I gratefully soaked in and let spread throughout my being as he sat next to me, his expression thoughtful.

"There's something about you that sets you apart from everyone I have ever met, Peter. Your emotions are very intense, very deep throughout you. Even when you're not in full control of yourself, there is something within your underlying emotions that brings me stability, brings me peace...keeps me from letting myself be torn apart by one of the enemy pawns."

He was silent as he absorbed my confession, his eyes focused on my face, and my eyes focused on his. His emotions reflected something I didn't feel often in my surroundings...affection. The feeling jolted something within me as I looked into his eyes.

The moment our gazes connected, a wave of desire crashed from Peter's being into my own, leaving me breathless before he looked away, his embarrassment circling around him. I frowned, staring at him, uncertain of what to do next.

"'re a great man. You're not death, no more than necessary for your own survival. You have great skill and ability,'ve been a good friend to me."

Peter's eyes softened as his conviction poured through his words, and he let his desire flood through him once again, this time untarnished by his embarrassment. On the periphery of his powerful emotions, I could feel him starting to lose control. It affected me in a way I had never experienced before. He wanted me. He wanted me for who I was and what I meant to him—so different from my experience with Maria. I touched his hand, pushing forward a great amount of control to him.

He immediately focused, just as he did each time I had done the same thing in our training sessions in which I taught him and the others to fight successfully. When his focus took full effect, I was slightly surprised that his desire did not fade, but increased. It was not a newborn lust he was projecting. It was an actual want, an actual desire.

"Jasper," Peter said, his voice low, husky, full of his own need.

Suddenly, nothing else mattered, not the guilt, not the pain or sadness, not Maria or death. All that mattered was that Peter was here; he was a comfort to me, and I hoped that I was to him as well. It was no secret to me that he hated this life with every bit of malice that I did. We shared that camaraderie, and we both needed some sort of release from the horrible onslaught of each and every negative experience we'd had since entering into this life.

Without allowing myself to over think things, I harnessed Peter's desire, coupled with my own, and gradually let it seep from myself, while using part of my concentration to keep Peter focused and in control of his emotions and actions. It was important to me for him to know exactly how I felt in that moment just as I could from him.

I leaned forward, allowing my lips to graze the first pair of lips that weren't Maria's in this existence. They were strong and unyielding as he pressed into me enthusiastically with a grunt that coaxed my body, and every nerve ending within it, awake. I answered him with a groan of my own and pushed him back against the tree, my hands falling to his shoulders as my tongue pressed against his lips. I was surprised at how pleasant he tasted as I probed further. His hand roughly grabbed the back of my neck and his tongue fought with mine for dominance between us.

Dominance was not something that I was willing to relinquish, not with anyone, even Peter. With Maria, sex was the one area in which she would relinquish her dominance over me and let me take full control, which was something that I needed, for whatever reason. Yet in the here and now, I was willing to share the control with Peter. On a deeper level, it meant that I trusted Peter with, not only my life, but with my thoughts and feelings as well, with the part of me that no one else knew.

As his hand pushed my hand aside and grabbed at my blond curls, Peter managed to pull me from my musings on the situation and simply focus on the moment. The enormous amounts of lust were nearly more than I could bear. Peter's lust and desire only served to amplify my own, and in turn, I projected it back onto him, creating a powerful, unending cycle of desire between us.

A large part of my concentration went to focusing on that desire, while I retained a small portion to keep Peter focused and controlled, to make sure that this was something he truly wanted to do, something he was choosing to do, rather than acting from erratic newborn behavior. If it was something done, not by choice, but by the impulses so common in new vampires, it would ruin our newfound friendship, the friendship that was so priceless to the both of us, forever.

My fingers quickly, determinedly, set out to undo the buttons of his ragged shirt. He'd have to get a new one after this battle. Our clothing wasn't in the best of shape usually, anyway, stolen from other vampires or the humans from which we fed. I pulled the half-ripped fabric from his body, inhaling sharply as my eyes scraped across the sharp planes of his chest and stomach. His body was not as marred as mine, but he was rapidly catching up with the numerous half-moon bite marks, permanent reminders from each and every battle he had fought. Several were fresh, and I rubbed my thumb gently against them, wishing that we could both be spared from ever suffering through another battle.

Peter ripped my own shirt off with little care that it was my last one. I stared into his eyes for a long moment, focusing on his every emotion, my thumbs still stroking his skin. Something in his eyes softened, and he smiled.

"I'm sure," was all he said, was all it took for me to attack him once more, my lips moving with his and my fingers moving against the button of his trousers.

His fingers dove to mine just as quickly, and it was only seconds before we were both standing completely naked in the dark on the quiet bank of the pond. I found myself mesmerized by the way the moonlight glistened in silvery, rainbow-filled streaks from the scars on his body.

"Turn around, Peter," I said, watching as he acquiesced, his black eyes reflecting his growing desire, his unbearable need that was just as strong as my own.

I slowly stalked up behind him, allowing the anticipation to circle around us before finally pressing my hips against his ass. I leaned forward, my lips lightly caressing the back of his ear as my hands gripped his waist, pulling him closer against me. Peter shuddered, inhaling a shaky, unnecessary breath.

"Peter, walk back to the tree."

He turned slightly and nodded, stepping forward and putting his hands on either side of the large trunk of the ash tree. I pressed against his back, resting my palm between his shoulder blades until his body was perpendicular to the tree trunk.

I allowed my hands to slide slowly from his shoulders down his back before finally resting against his ass. His smooth skin felt like fire against my hands as I let my touch trail to the front of his body. His responding groan caused a spike of my own desire, which I gladly projected to him.

"God, Jasper," he breathed heavily as my hand finally wrapped around his hard length.

The sensation was quite different. I hadn't had any expectations, as it was something I hadn't pondered before this day, but I felt myself in awe as my brain contemplated the feeling of him in my hand. He was large, and his smooth, fevered skin was taut, stretched by the steel beneath it. I leaned into him, my arms pressing into his sides as my free hand wrapped around his hard stomach.

I tightened my grip against his member as I maintained a steady rhythm, relishing in the sounds that the contact coaxed from him as a low rumble began in his chest and venom dripped from the tip. When his legs began to shake, I slowly slid both of my hands around to his back again, and he moaned at the loss.

I smiled, letting my teeth gently nip against the contours of his back, careful not to break through the skin and cause a pain neither of us would ever be able to associate with pleasure. Letting his forehead remain against the bark of the tree, his hands darted from the trunk to my thighs at the same moment that his hips pressed into my groin, causing a low, involuntary growl to emit from somewhere deep inside of me.

"Peter," I growled, my voice a low, rough sound that didn't I didn't recognize. "You may need your hands on that tree. I'm going fuck you hard, and if you don't want an imprint of your head in the trunk of the tree, I suggest you hold on tight."

He moaned, pressing his hips back again as his hands returned to the tree, but I stepped back from him, quickly spitting on my hand a generous amount of venom and stroking it onto my own erection before closing the gap between us once more.

Without speaking, I nudged his legs further apart with my foot, grabbing his hip securely with one hand while I brushed my tip against both of his ass cheeks. His hips jerked, seeking more contact, and by this time, I was done playing around. The feeling of our combined need for release was smashing into me, likely to completely overwhelm me if not solved soon.

I added more venom to my free hand before once again gripping my length with one hard stroke before guiding myself to his entrance. Both hands gripped tightly onto his hips, and as I entered him at a tortuously slow pace, I bent over slightly, letting my lips slide over the skin of his back, letting his movements under my fingers and the sounds escaping his lips fuel my fire, my need for him, my need for a release, for some good in our world of pain and endlessness.

I pushed myself fully within him, grunting as my thighs came in contact with his ass. The grunt turned into a moan as I felt, rather than saw, his hand move from the tree and up the inside of my thigh, cupping my sac.

"Shit, Peter," I grunted, overwhelmed by the tight confines of him combined with the pressure his hand was creating.

One of my hands snaked from his hip to his thick rod, gripping it tightly and stroking him as I began moving my hips again, thrusting, slowly at first. Once Peter had adjusted to the intrusion, the speed of both my hand and my hips increased.

His hard skin slapped against my own, and the two of us grunted, groaning our pleasure. It was unlike anything I had ever felt before, and the desire only increased with every second that my body was inside of his. My thrusts had become powerful, pounding, and Peter had replaced his hand on the tree to stay upright.

"Fuck, Peter, you feel good. You have no idea," I said breathlessly.

He answered not with words, but with a hard thrust backward, which not only forced me deeper within him, but caused my hand to pull at him harder as it met his tip once more. We both groaned at the sensation, waves of lust, want and need crashing in us and around us until that was all that existed.

It was too much, and when Peter trembled in front of me, throbbing and jerking in my hand as his release took him over, I was unable to control any of myself any longer. I let go of every powerful and intense emotion flooding my senses, sure that any and every live being with in a two-hundred mile radius would feel the effects.

Peter growled loudly, and I grabbed at his hips roughly, slamming into him a final time as my release captured me, paralyzing my movement with its incredible tension, a passionate glory unlike anything I had ever felt before. I was in a haze, breathing as if my life depended on it, just as Peter did, his body weak and trembling beneath mine. We both fell to the dirt and dry grass beneath the tree, heaving with effort, our bodies tangled in a mess of skin and venom and dirt.

How long we laid there in silence, I did not know, but I was finally brought from my haze by Peter's soft laughter. I turned to him, amazed that, once I could feel again, I realized that nothing but pure joy and satisfaction radiated from him. He was like a new man. I smiled at him.

No words were needed. Before the sun rose, we would have to make our way back to camp, back to Maria, but in the few hours we had left, I gloried in the feelings within me. I'd never felt so meaningful, so relaxed, so happy. I stood, pulling Peter up with me, and leading him into the pond so that we could both rid ourselves of the smell of our evening.

The sun would rise, and we would still be who we were when we left that battlefield. One very big difference now existed. The bond that Peter and I had created was sure and true, and though I doubted anything of this nature would ever happen between us again, I knew that in him, I would always have the closest friend and the best ally.

A/N: First off, a monstrous thank you to kittycullen for beta reading this for us.

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