((Apologies for lack of updates really are meaningless. I'll earn your respect back by bringing updates without promises. Short chapter, but better than nothing.

Please review so I know if anyone is even still interested in this story.))

If there were an award for number of times passing out in a lifetime, I would win it. It was sickening how the heavy feeling of waking up after collapsing was becoming familiar, even manageable. I opened my eyes, and looked around the room. I was in my own room, alone. My heart fell realizing Edward wasn't here to comfort me. Sitting up slowly, I groaned at the headache that struck him. The apartment was quiet, completely silent.

Silence is an invention of man.

I opened the door slowly, walking to the kitchen. I partly expected Edward to be sitting there with coffee and a smile, only to be disappointed. Something had happened. A burglar came in and killed him, or possibly kidnapped him. Or was waiting for me to come out to kill me too… I entered the living room to find only Edward, sitting silently at the piano. Walking slowly, I tapped his shoulder softly. He didn't respond.

"Edward?" my voice croaked, lack of water making my words sound old.

He turned slowly to me, dark circles under his eyes and exhaustion apparent. Edward had never looked worse. I breathed in horror as I realized it was my fault. He grabbed me slowly by the arms, pulling me to his chest and surrounding me with his protective arms.

"Jasper. I'm so sorry. I don't want to lose you," he whispered, voice full of pain. I snuggled my face into his neck, trying to ignore how weak he sounded.

"I… My family and I were really close growing up. Carlisle and Esme raised me well, and loved me more than I deserved. But I knew I didn't deserve their love. My life was too perfect, so I pushed them away. I lost all my friends, and began isolating myself. The world just became dark for me, and I didn't see a point in anything. I was depressed, and I took it out on everyone else even if it was just with silence. I lost everyone because of my own self hatred. They tried calling, and coming over… They were so hurt… I meant to hurt myself but instead hurt everyone else. Jasper, when I saw you I knew I needed to help you. I knew you needed my help. I knew I had to stop you from making the same mistake of pushing everyone away. I-," he stopped when I yanked myself away from his grip with tears in my eyes.

"Jasper, what-," again, I cut him off.

"I needed your help? You helped me because I was pathetic?" my voice came out shaking, and I took steps away from him. A voice in my head was laughing. I told you so.

"I liked my life. Maybe it wasn't to your fucking standards, but it worked for me. I liked being alone, I liked locking myself in my house, and I couldn't care less if I looked pathetic to everyone else. I didn't need a superman to come along because you thought I was pathetic."

"Jasper!" he yelled in shock, and rose to come near me. I began to shake, the slow crawl of panic coming up my spine. I didn't want him near me. He was going to grab me, hurt me, make me stay.

Edward had never loved me. He just wanted to save the day. My breathing started coming more frequently, as realization crashed down on me. He only fucking pitied me. And pity isn't love. Edward took a few more steps near me.

"Don't fucking come near me," I screamed, paranoia lacing my voice. He froze, his eyes wide with guilt.

"Maybe I have some fucking people issues. Maybe it's because my mom ran off and left me with my dad who liked to play the game of making me scream. Maybe it's because people are self interested. Maybe it's because I have no one to call me on the holidays. Maybe you should have never made me go the apartment basement, so the tree that destroyed me apartment could have just ended this fucking thing I call my life."

"Jasper please," he whispered, eyes full of tears. "I just wanted to help you." I ran my hand through my dirty hair, and screamed out in aggravation.

"I'm not a fucking doll you can sow back together Edward. I'm never going to get any better. You can try to show me a normal life, but at the end of the fucking day I'm still going to be that guy who can't ride in cars, or go to the grocery store, or be that guy you can have a life with. I'm never going to get better."

It took a minute for me to register that I was sobbing in shallow breaths. I ran to the room Edward had let me stay in, and grabbed the small amount of items that had been saved from my old life. He was in the doorway when I turned around, his own cheeks covered in tears. It hurt to see him like that.

" Edward, move," I said softly, and he obeyed, moving out of the way. I quickly exited then apartment building trying to ignore the sound of him collapsing to his knees and sobbing.

I walked quickly down the street for almost twenty minutes, avoiding eyes, to a small but elegant motel, that sat in front of a lake. I rented a room for a month, ignoring the burning curiosity in the inn keepers eyes. The room was small, but cozy. I quickly searched the room for any type of abnormality, and found none. It was one of those gross orange colors only found in old motel rooms, with shag carpet and a crappy smell. I sat on the mattress that was too firm, let regret soak in.

I knew what I had done was horrible, leaving Edward like that alone. I needed Edward more than anything, but to be with him would be limiting him. He was the only person would could touch me without me freaking out, and I knew he was special. But he deserved more than a life locked away from people. He deserved a family and a future, and I knew I couldn't give it to him. But in leaving him I also had left myself behind. I had abandoned hope for my own future.

So I sat in the dirty hotel room with the lights off and cried alone.

Hours later, I watched the shitty cable in my room, not entirely seeing the images that flashed on the screen. Edward had been the only positive in my life for years. The change had been exciting, and life changing. Everything now seemed dull and I felt number than I had ever felt.

But in the end, I had been right, hadn't I? If I would have been in my safe zone, James would never have been promising revenge. If I had been in my safe zone, I would have never had all these problems. Had I been following my own obsessive rules, I would have never fallen into the dangerous problem of love.

I walked to the mini fridge, and grabbed all the contents of the mini bar. My body yearned for food, but I denied it, instead opening the liquor and downing it quickly.

Bottle after bottle, the panicky thoughts in my head became background noise. I felt oddly euphoric, and questioned my sanity. By this time it was dark outside and my mood mirrored the dark. I got up from the bed, shoving the empty bottles on the floor. Making my way to the door, I had to steady myself more than once.

Somewhere in my head, warning bells were going off. Drunken mistakes often led to death, and I knew from reading statistics that reaction speed was definitely delayed. But these warning bells were not coming through, and I ignored them and I stumbled down the stairs and into the grass. The lake looked like a pool of black, and I wanted nothing more but to be in it. The desire was so overwhelming, I ran into it, letting my clothes become soaked with the weight, and feeling the heaviness of reality sink in.

I forgot I never learned how to swim.

I began to sink to the bottom, and my panic made its way through my alcohol induced shield, reminding me of the fact that I was going to die. I began to struggle, breathing in water while the heaviness held me down. And suddenly, I stopped. I let the water fill my lungs, and let my exhausted limbs relax. I closed my eyes, daring death to take me. I wanted to die.

Two strong arms pulled me from the water, and self preservation kicked in, making me gulp in the precious air. My vision was blurred, as my hero rubbed my chest while I coughed up water. He turned me around, laying me flat against his sculpted chest, his breaths calming my own breaths. I felt my breaths return to normal.

"You know, my dad was an alcoholic," I said, my words slurred. "It only fits for me to be too." He didn't respond verbally, but ran a hand through my hair softly, then down my neck. I melted to the touches, my drunken body desiring contact.

"He'd get drunk and beat me. Blame me for everything… I have scars everywhere. And I stayed with him thinking it'd pass. Thinking it was just a phase of hurt. But then he tried to kill me. I was so scared. I thought I was going to die… and it's a shame I didn't. Cause now the only time I can't freak out is when I'm like him…" my drunken rambles again were met with silence, and my eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Edward…why aren't you talking to me?" I asked in confusion. His hand when to my pocket and pulled out the hotel key. I tried to turn around, but his arm held me to his chest.

"Edward. Isn't that the name of your lover?" a voice said calmly, and I was instantly sobered. Panic flooded me as I tried to struggle, and a hand went over my mouth before I could scream. This was not Edward. It was not his velvet voice or gentle touches. I began to cry, my thin frame no match for his heavy build.

"Or is it your ex lover? You guys get in a tiff? Well either way he did fuck up my face, and it seems like you don't have any plans. Let's go plan some fun in your hotel room," James said, and I struggled against his touch. He uncovered my mouth, knowing my gasping for air prevented me from screaming. His lips kissed mine, and ran down my shaking body.

Throwing my soaking wet body over his shoulder, he brought me to my hotel room, while I tried to cling to the small bit of consciousness I had left.

(( I understand I suck at grammar, but I don't have or understand how to get a beta. My work comes from a story in my head, and to have someone to articulate that with me would be amazing. But I don't, so don't kill me over my mistakes. I love you xxoo))