Disclaimer: This short story is a kind of crossover between Twilight and the movie City of Angels, which belong to their respectful owners, but we took liberties with them both. The Giving Tree belongs to Shel Silverstein. Title inspired by Glen Hansard's song Falling Slowly. No copyright infringement intended.
A/N: Thanks to my lovely collaborator Maxipoo1024 and our pre-readers Detochkina, BoobieD, and Jtmd24. Special thanks to Rochelle Allison for picking this story in the Season of Our Discontent contest.
There are only three chapters, and I will post it within this week.
FALLING SLOWLY
She stood by the window, impassively watching the raindrops rolling down into intricate rivulets. It was dark outside and no matter how hard she tried to make out the familiar ghostly silhouette, she failed.
"Come to me," she whispered, tracing the patterns the rain had drawn on the cool glass with her fingers. "Let me see you. Please. I need to talk to you."
She held her breath, straining to hear any indication that she wasn't alone in the room. There was none.
She sighed and it suddenly occurred to her that he might be waiting for her in a different place—in the place where she had left him.
She turned abruptly, grabbed her car keys from the rack and rushed out of her house into the raging storm.
What she didn't know was that he was there. He was always there and this time was no different.
xxxxxxx
"What was your favorite thing?" he asked.
"Chocolate," a girl answered.
"Chocolate?" He raised his brows, amused.
"Don't you like it?"
"Um… I've never tasted it."
The girl sighed. "Poor you. Being an angel sucks."
He just laughed and took her hand. "Come on. He's waiting for you."
There were things he loved about his job and there were things he hated. Guiding humans on their way to the other side was a thing that brought meaning to his existence. Some of them came with him readily, yet others struggled, unwilling to part with the ones they loved or just being afraid of the unknown. He knew how to give them peace and comfort, but he loathed taking them away from their world nevertheless. There was something inexplicable about the seemingly mundane life of humans that never ceased to fascinate him.
"Tough night, Edward?" Jasper asked with a smirk.
Jasper was his friend but unlike Edward, he wasn't taking lives—his job was to guard them. They were sitting on the top of the Space Needle like they did every day at dawn, watching the glow of a plane crash in the distance.
"She was just a kid." Edward shook his head. "I wonder sometimes why He does that. She hasn't even had a life."
"I thought by now you'd know better than to ask His master plan." Jasper laughed. "Maybe He wants to give her something better than that? "
"Maybe. How about you? Had some fun?"
"Oh, yeah. I broke one of my guy's alarm clock, so he was late for that plane."
"Always so creative." Edward snorted.
"You have no idea. My existence would be boring if those humans didn't challenge me with their ever changing technology. Took me a while to figure out that particular clock," Jasper grumbled. "I should apply for advance training courses."
"A challenge... I'd like some challenge," Edward said thoughtfully. "I'm so bored of predictability."
"Be careful what you wish for." Jasper lazily observed the slowly moving traffic beneath them and stood up. "I have to go. Mr. Crowley just got his drivers' license and bought an old Toyota. He's going to drive to work every day." He rolled his eyes. "Are you still complaining about predictability?"
"Good luck with that."
They both laughed at their private joke and left their meeting place to start their daily routines.
xxxxxxx
Only her second week on the job, Isabella Swan had adjusted quite nicely. She was the youngest and most promising Pediatric Oncologist in the greater Phoenix area, so there wasn't a doubt about her ability to perform her duties in a new town. She received a sterling recommendation from the Chief of Staff at Phoenix Children's Hospital. She certainly had a gift. The children loved her and her determination and refusal to fail only made her a better doctor. The only thing he questioned was her rapport with her peers. She never made an effort to socialize during or after her shifts. It was almost as if her mind followed one track. Save these children. Nothing else mattered, not a personal life and certainly not inane water-cooler chatter. It wasn't good for a person to be so closed off from the world. The chief put aside his own reservations and filled out the transfer paperwork. He hoped whatever she was avoiding, whatever kept her late in the lab and uninterested in a social life, wouldn't rear its ugly head in Seattle. Little did he know, she was going back to Seattle to face it head on.
She walked down the sterile and frigid hallway. What was it about hospitals having to be so cold? It was more than a temperature she mused about. She knew bacteria breeds better in a warmer environment, but would it kill anyone to make this place actually feel like a home? Phoenix was the same way. All she wanted was different lighting, maybe a few pictures that the children had drawn, hanging in the lobby. She wanted the children to feel at home. A lot of these kids came here to die. Not if I have anything to do about it, she thought. She wanted them to have any bit of happiness she could offer in the meantime.
She kept her head held high, looking straight on, careful not to make eye-contact that someone would mistake as an open invitation to talk to her. Her determination was apparent in her brown, impenetrable eyes which were more black than brown. Almond-shaped with just enough hardness around the edges, people could tell she was hurting or had been hurt, but they knew better than to try and fix it. As she made her way down the hallway to the lab, she paid no attention the lean and muscular form standing next to the nurse station. Judging by the swarm of women huddled around, she knew exactly who it was. She picked up her pace, praying she would walk by undetected.
A sweet and spicy scent, like her favorite Turkish coffee, assaulted her as she came closer. She took a deep breath and laughed. Yesterday it was similar to a Kenyan blend. Now that she recalled, he always smelled of some type of coffee. Must be a big coffee drinker, she thought. Not that she minded. Isabella fell in love with the stuff, trying to stay awake as she worked double shifts during her internship. She became dependent on it as she spent countless nights in the lab, alone, testing different treatments out. Now, it was one of the few pleasures she allowed herself. She had visited Pike Place and took part in her own Coffee Crawl, walking to her favorite coffee shops and sampling her favorite brews and decided it would be a monthly indulgence.
She shifted her eyes to her left, briefly glancing at the perfectly coiffed, blond Adonis that ensnared the affections of the entire female population at Seattle Children's Hospital. His pale blue eyes were always so clear and kind. His voice ever so soothing, like wind chimes dangling in a thick summer breeze. She liked him as a person and a professional, but she was far too busy to be caught up in the game of vying for his attention. As she passed, he instantly turned around and offered her a genuine smile, only to receive tight, thin lips in return. He shook his head and sighed.
Once Carlisle Cullen had made a choice that would alter his entire existence, he came to Seattle as a surgeon. His vast knowledge of the human body, and condition for that matter, made him an asset in any emergency room. He had an impeccable track record, saving every life he encountered. He operated on everything from gun-shot wounds to tumors. It was no wonder he made Chief of Staff in a very short time. Some of his co-workers held grudges, mostly the men. They felt he didn't work hard enough or long enough for the position of esteem. Some even went so far as to say it was all about who he knew. In some regard, they were right.
So, as Chief of Staff, Dr. Cullen was still very much involved in the day to day decisions that helped save lives as a whole. After all, if the hospital didn't run smoothly, lives would be lost. He still longed for that one on one interaction; he craved the feeling of warmth that flooded him when he touched someone's life so intimately.
Ignoring his clerical duties, he placed the charts he was reviewing on the counter top.
"Isabella, I was just about to come find you." He placed his hand on her shoulder and guided her towards the edge of the corridor, away from the prying eyes of the nurses he left behind.
"Good afternoon, Chief. Did I do something wrong?"
"Oh, no." He chuckled. "I just wanted to see how you were adjusting. I've heard great things from some of the patients' parents. You really are wonderful with kids."
She blushed slightly, the faintest pink forming on her high cheek bones. The color only added beauty to her heart-shaped face.
"Thank you, Chief. They deserve to be treated with dignity and respect. Just because they are kids, doesn't mean they don't understand what is going on. I don't make promises I can't keep, but I promise to try my hardest to save them. More times than not, my hardest has been enough."
He smiled at her and closed his eyes for a moment as if receiving guidance from above. Isabella watched him with rapt attention, focusing on the delicate blond lashes. He really was a gorgeous man.
"I have someone I'd like you to meet if you have time."
She nodded and followed him down to the isolation ward. They stood outside the large, glass window, watching as a little boy held out his thin arm for a nurse to take his blood pressure. The cuff was far too big, even though it was children's size. His bald head was covered by an Orioles baseball cap.
"His name is Seth. His mother is a single parent and works full-time. She only comes to visit every other Saturday," Carlisle continued.
Isabella read over the prognosis on Seth's chart. She bit on her lower lip, frowning as she realized he was too far gone.
"Sir, I don't think there is anything I can do for him. My treatments are still awaiting approval to start trials. And even if they were approved..." She trailed off with a long exhale, her shoulders slumping in the process. She hated to admit defeat, but she would not jeopardize any semblance of a normal life this boy had left.
"Oh, dear girl, I'm not asking you to save his life. I only want you to enrich what's left of it. You were so good with the others, and he is so lonely, I figured..." He looked past her and saw a familiar face walking towards them. "...Excuse me for one moment."
Without a second thought, Isabella reached for a mask and a smock. She made sure she used the hand-sanitizer before entering the room. She walked over to Seth's bed and pulled up a chair. The nurse finished making her notations and left them alone.
"Hi there, buddy. My name is Bella. What's yours?" She smiled with her eyes since her mouth was covered for his protection. She made an impulsive decision calling herself Bella. That was the name her mother called her but something about the boy made her feel the warmth she had been missing for so long.
"Seth. Are you going to poke me with needles?" the boy asked.
She shook her head and gave him a sympathetic look. "No, not at all. I actually came to spend some time with you. A little birdie told me you like baseball and I am a huge fan, so I figured we could watch the game together." She reached over to the bedside table and flipped through the channels to find the Mariners game. She had no interest in baseball, but the boy's baseball hat told her she could give it a try. Her intuition was spot on, yet again.
"I don't really like this team," he explained.
She didn't know much about either team but the names seemed familiar. "Well, if you had to choose one, who would you root for?"
"Angels are pretty cool. They have wings and halos and get to hang out in heaven. I bet you they will win anyway because they're God's team, right?"
His logic touched her. It was the reason she only wanted to work with children. They were so innocent and perceptive. The way they saw the world was the way it was meant to be. She settled comfortably in her chair and watched the game, cheering for the Anaheim Angels in unison with him. She didn't have the heart or courage to tell him angels weren't real and God didn't exist. If he did, how could he taint the world by taking the lives of children or her mother for that matter? He created beauty and love only to destroy it when he saw fit. No, she wouldn't accept that. She didn't know how, but she would try to save this boy's life.
xxxxxxx
Edward visited Seattle Children's Hospital almost every day. Even when he wasn't on duty, he found himself drawn to that place. Unseen by humans, he liked to watch doctors struggle to save the lives of their little patients. Deep inside, he found it quite pathetic because he knew how futile those attempts were, but it was their strength of mind that amazed him.
He knew that there was a value to human lives, but he just couldn't grasp the very essence of it; it was a mystery he spent an eternity trying to find a solution to. He could read the minds of each and every single human, and yet he couldn't perceive it. That was why, when he guided them on their way to another world, he always asked what they liked best about their lives. He even tried to categorize the answers, but it didn't make it easier because he failed to understand how things like sex or food made life worth living. One old woman even told him that most of all she loved her cat—that didn't make any sense at all but stirred his curiosity even more.
Children's minds were especially interesting for him to read. They managed to find joy in simple things and when he came after them, they were excited about the journey, their only regret being having to leave their parents alone. There was something special about the kids that had cancer and knew they would die. It seemed to him that they felt his presence even when he only came to watch, like today. Edward never felt pain himself, just like he knew no cold or hunger; human senses were uncharted territory for him, but hearing them think of it was enough to twist something inside of him. He wished he had the ability to save them from misery, but he couldn't take them before the time stated in his job assignments had come. He didn't need to visit them beforehand but he did anyway, guided by his ever present curiosity—he simply wanted to know them better.
He had been watching that kid, Seth, for a while now. For such a little man, Seth displayed incredible courage. He faced his illness head on, never cried or complained about being in pain. And in pain he was; Edward knew it. He also knew that Seth missed his mom and his dog Wolf. When nobody was watching, Seth wrote a story about Wolf the Superdog who saved the world, unaware that he had one very attentive and thankful reader.
Edward usually came to see Seth in the afternoons when the boy was left alone to rest after treatments. He wasn't there yesterday because he had an urgent assignment, and he smiled on his way, anticipating to hear more about Wolf's adventures. Today it wasn't going to happen. Today, Seth had a visitor.
She was sitting in the chair next to the boy's bed, looking uncomfortable. She was wearing a smock and a mask so Edward couldn't see her face, only her big dark eyes. He knew every member of the hospital staff, and he assumed she must have been a new employee since he hadn't seen her before. Except doctors or nurses didn't watch TV with their patients. Something here was unusual and he was determined to find out what.
He listened to Seth's thoughts but the boy was occupied with a baseball game, making Edward smile to himself when he heard, "Go, Angels! Go!"
So he switched his attention to the woman.
He heard nothing. Not a single thought.
She was silent.
Well, not literally silent, because she commented on the game and cheered out loud… but her mind was like a book he couldn't open.
It's impossible, he thought.
And yet, there she was, the first mind in the infinity of his celestial lifetime that he couldn't read. He moved closer and stood in front of her, trying to peer into her eyes and maybe find an answer there… and as he did, she looked straight at him as if she could see him.
Impossible, he thought again, humans can't see angels. Taken aback, he kept staring into her eyes, mesmerized by their depth, by the inconceivable sadness that filled them. He could sense sheer determination and strong will that made her gaze quite stern.
When Seth fell asleep, Edward followed her into the hallway. She removed her mask and he could finally discern her delicate features. She looked like she had just stepped out of one of a Renaissance painting. She was beautiful. Exquisite. And really sad. He noticed the corners of her lips twitch as she paused with her hand on the door knob and sighed. It was so much more than just compassion and sadness; her features carried traces of deep pain. What he wouldn't give to find out the reasons and take it all away.
And when she turned on her heel and started walking away, he knew he was a goner. He would never find peace of mind until he had solved the mystery that was she. So he made a decision. He would become her shadow, watching and waiting for any piece of information that she unintentionally let slip, eventually piecing it together to form the picture before him.
He had no idea how hard that would be. Two days later, he wasn't an inch closer to his goal. All he managed to find out from reading the minds of the other staff was that her name was Isabella and she was a new Pediatric Oncologist. She clearly wasn't a sociable person; she tended to avoid her coworkers, which was easy being a newcomer. She ate her lunches at her lab table, engrossed in reading her new patients' charts. Edward took notice of how her demeanor changed when she was around kids, how the deep crease on her forehead disappeared. The force with which she plunged into work, giving herself up completely, was striking. Edward found himself drawn to her not merely by curiosity anymore but by admiration.
At the end of the second day, he followed her home like a stray dog, hoping to find any answers in the things she surrounded herself with. He was breaking the rules; he knew it—she wasn't one of his job assignments and he wasn't supposed to violate her privacy, but he just couldn't stop himself.
Isabella drove a small old car. Unsafe, he thought, whoever guards her better be good at their job. Her house was small as well. She must have moved quite recently because there was a pile of unpacked boxes in the hall. She lived alone and the only thing indicating other people in her life was an old photo of a woman that she kept on her nightstand. Her mother, maybe?
Usually human body, or females for that matter, held no interest for him, but for some reason he couldn't take his eyes away from Isabella as she undressed and sank into a bath with a glass of wine. As he watched her, he caught himself enjoying the silence of her mind. It was unusually comforting to be around someone whose thoughts didn't interrupt his own.
She closed her eyes and rested her head on the back of the tub. Although her mind was silent to Edward, her own thoughts violently raced through her mind. The wine helped dull the ache but never completely erased the pain. After another long gulp from her glass, Isabella sighed. It was impossible to get comfortable since her visit with Seth at the hospital. With one leg propped up on the edge of the tub, tiny beads of water dripped down her dancer's calve. No longer a dancer by choice, she still maintained the dancer's body. As she tried to unwind, she couldn't shake the feeling of dread and uneasiness she felt in Seth's room, almost as if someone was watching her, prying into her life. Taking a deep breath, she let herself sink into the tub. Deep under the water, she still felt a presence hovering over her. A chill set in her bones and she decided it was time to get out.
When she emerged from the bathroom and curled up in her bed, he prepared to leave but lingered at her bookshelf. He found it amusing that she hadn't unpacked her clothes and utensils but her books were already placed there in the perfect order. They were mostly American classics: Hemingway, James, Sallinger... He smiled to himself as a tattered cover of Romeo and Juliette caught his eye. It seemed out of place, like a delicate flower in a concrete jungle. He listened to the sounds of her steady heartbeat and even breathing, indicating that she was asleep, and soundlessly pulled the book out. The story of star-crossed lovers was the most intriguing thing he had ever read, their raw emotions totally beyond his comprehension yet so inexplicably alluring.
A sudden gasp broke the silence, startling him; he turned quickly only to realize that she was still fast asleep. She must have been having a nightmare because even though her eyes were closed, her breathing became erratic. She gasped again, this time sound coming out more like a stifled cry. In no time, he was at her side and before processing his own actions, reached out and wiped a teardrop running down her cheek.
Her heart skipped a beat.
It was impossible because she couldn't feel his touch, but Edward was sure he heard it. Something had shifted. She was still breathing heavily, but her features softened as if her pain had finally abated, as if his ethereal touch had somehow managed to wipe it out.
He hesitated no longer. The fine line between right and wrong was obliterated as he leaned in and pressed his lips to her forehead.
A/N: Thanks for reading! I hope you like it. Let me know what you think!
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Next update on Wednesday.