"She is that," Jasper agrees more softly, looking down at the crest once again. He doesn't wear a wedding band like some of the others, hasn't wanted to fret over damaging it, and Alice doesn't wear a ring herself, but they don't need them. They know.
The ache in Natasha is low and steady, settling in for the duration like a cracked bone that needs time to heal, and she's still curled up on the couch in the chilly front room instead of beneath the layers of blankets on the bed. That's simply not right. Slowly, making more noise than he needs to, Jasper slips off the windowsill and glides to the fireplace, carefully adding a log and poking kindling at the embers. If she isn't going to sleep, she may as well stay warm.
As the flames leap up again and Natasha shifts instinctively toward the little billow of warmth, and incidentally toward him, and he doesn't move away again, it all comes crashing back.
They hadn't had much time, but Alice had told him a lot of things before they'd been separated. She'd told him she'd only seen all of them caught when they all ran together. When he'd decided to stay behind, she'd told him, with tears in her eyes, what needed to be done to hold off the attackers and give them time to escape. They'd been a little oasis of stillness, clinging to each other as their siblings and parents flew past them, blurred with speed, when her eyes had unfocused again.
"You'll meet someone. When we're apart. Someone new. A, a woman, with red hair. Sharp. Angry, but...not always. I don't know who she is, but you love her," and she'd put a finger over his lips as he'd immediately gone to protest it, he'd never love anyone the way he loves her, "you'll love her, and you'll bring her back to us. To both of us." Her glorious eyes had narrowed in confusion and she'd given that little huff she always gets when she can't figure something properly. "I don't...she's still human, but she feeds you, somehow she feeds you and you keep her warm. ...that's all I know, except. I'll love her too." She'd lain both hands on his cheeks, clarity restored even as Jasper's own confusion kept building. "Bring her with you when you come back. I'll wait."
It hadn't been the most pressing issue at the time, and in the weeks of fury and agony that had followed, he'd all but forgotten it. Red hair. Sharp. Angry. She feeds you and his breakfast mug is still sitting on the drainboard from the morning's squirrel blood. You keep her warm and what reason would he have to build a fire but to keep her warm, what reason to drag downed trees across the forest for firewood but to keep her warm?
The force of it knocks him back to sit on the hearth, his back against the hearthstone, the poker falling from his hand as he stares at her red hair, coppery now in the firelight. He shouldn't have any business being around a human, alone, for this long without going for her. She's touched him so many times, and he's only had to run from her once. He's never been as strong as the others, by rights she should be dead already, but she's never feared him, not once, not this woman whose instinct for death is such that he can feel it.
Does she know? Does she know what she is to him? To both of them?
no subject
The ache in Natasha is low and steady, settling in for the duration like a cracked bone that needs time to heal, and she's still curled up on the couch in the chilly front room instead of beneath the layers of blankets on the bed. That's simply not right. Slowly, making more noise than he needs to, Jasper slips off the windowsill and glides to the fireplace, carefully adding a log and poking kindling at the embers. If she isn't going to sleep, she may as well stay warm.
As the flames leap up again and Natasha shifts instinctively toward the little billow of warmth, and incidentally toward him, and he doesn't move away again, it all comes crashing back.
They hadn't had much time, but Alice had told him a lot of things before they'd been separated. She'd told him she'd only seen all of them caught when they all ran together. When he'd decided to stay behind, she'd told him, with tears in her eyes, what needed to be done to hold off the attackers and give them time to escape. They'd been a little oasis of stillness, clinging to each other as their siblings and parents flew past them, blurred with speed, when her eyes had unfocused again.
"You'll meet someone. When we're apart. Someone new. A, a woman, with red hair. Sharp. Angry, but...not always. I don't know who she is, but you love her," and she'd put a finger over his lips as he'd immediately gone to protest it, he'd never love anyone the way he loves her, "you'll love her, and you'll bring her back to us. To both of us." Her glorious eyes had narrowed in confusion and she'd given that little huff she always gets when she can't figure something properly. "I don't...she's still human, but she feeds you, somehow she feeds you and you keep her warm. ...that's all I know, except. I'll love her too." She'd lain both hands on his cheeks, clarity restored even as Jasper's own confusion kept building. "Bring her with you when you come back. I'll wait."
It hadn't been the most pressing issue at the time, and in the weeks of fury and agony that had followed, he'd all but forgotten it. Red hair. Sharp. Angry. She feeds you and his breakfast mug is still sitting on the drainboard from the morning's squirrel blood. You keep her warm and what reason would he have to build a fire but to keep her warm, what reason to drag downed trees across the forest for firewood but to keep her warm?
The force of it knocks him back to sit on the hearth, his back against the hearthstone, the poker falling from his hand as he stares at her red hair, coppery now in the firelight. He shouldn't have any business being around a human, alone, for this long without going for her. She's touched him so many times, and he's only had to run from her once. He's never been as strong as the others, by rights she should be dead already, but she's never feared him, not once, not this woman whose instinct for death is such that he can feel it.
Does she know? Does she know what she is to him? To both of them?