"Cullens Incarcerated Contest"
Story Title: Stereo Alchemy
Main Characters: Edward/Bella
Disclaimer: All characters belong to S. Meyer. I only own Bella's sick mind, and the only warning is that this one-shot deals with a…death and a bad past, but there are no lemons or any mentions of rape.
To see other entries in the "Cullens Incarcerated" contest, please visit the profile: http://www . fanfiction . net/u/2163960
"Aren't you afraid of dying?"
Afraid. That wasn't a factor, or something I could take as a reference anyway.
"No," I simply say.
He frowns. "What do you feel, then?"
Feel. You can't trust feelings. The "stick to your gut" theory is bullshit, too.
"I feel pain, which is why I'd like my fucking pain meds, thank you."
Humourless laughter escapes his plump lips. "Except that."
I dig in deeper into my fucked up head. What is it that I'm feeling, that he wants to know? As far as I'm concerned, the only real feelings I ever had were while I was high.
Until I killed Bree.
"I'm feeling pain. Just fucking pain. Do I get any pain meds today?"
Dr. Edward Anthony Cullen, man of numerous PhDs and God knows what other degrees under his belt sighs, taking his glasses off and placing them on his desk. His gorgeous hair shines in the faint sunlight streaking through the translucent curtains, revealing that orange tinge somewhere between the streaks of his locks.
"Bella, you have one more day to live. Are you sure this is how you want to go? Isn't there anything you want to do, or tell someone, before you die?"
Laughter erupts through me and out my mouth, freaking out Edward but terribly amusing me further. The tears flow on my face freely, and I don't really give a damn about what he thinks right now. I'm not even going to bother impressing him anymore; I found out at some point that my enormous failed attempts didn't even make him flinch. That serious face of his refuses to twitch unless it's trying to suck some more information out of me. Fucking bastard. As if he could get under my skin again.
I calm down from my breakdown, and go back to watching Edward, now with a serious face.
"Really, Edward? Really?"
He looks confused, his perfect eyebrows joining to form a deep frown. "I don't follow."
Some more laughter threats to emerge, but I hold that serious face. "There isn't anything I've done that I don't regret. I've done it all in this life, there isn't anything that will impress or give me a thrill."
"I still don't follow," he says, trying to act smart.
Oh, fuck that shit. Of course he knows what I've done.
"Doctor Cullen, I repeat, I've done it all. What are the basic joys of life? Get drunk, have sex, snort cocaine, pop a baby and see that diamond ring on your finger. I've been through all that."
He puts his Guess glasses back on, then eyes me suspiciously. "Tell me about your life before you came here, then."
I suddenly feel like sobbing. Fucking mood swings.
"I haven't heard from the 'husband'," I gesture the air quotes, "for about a year now, and you know that. Bree is dead, and I didn't kill her, Edward, I didn't!" I stand up from my chair and he immediately jumps up too, probably trying to defend himself from yet another nasty attack from my behalf. As usual, my mind whispers.
His hand jumps to the phone and I stop midway from leaping on his desk.
"Bella. Listen to me, I touch the phone and I call the nurses – the bad ones. Calm down or I'll do it, and you hate it when they come for you, don't you?"
Motherfucker that knows all my weak points.
"I....I…" I can't find my words to speak. I try to look into my own head, trying to find those boundaries – for the last session of my life.
"Sit down, Bella. Hands behind your back or I will cuff you." His tone towards me right now is much more serious than I could ever try to duplicate.
I obey and I sit down, hands behind my back.
"Did you get an adrenaline rush?"
"I don't do the 'adrenaline rush' shit. I've tried skydiving. It was crap; I suggest you don't ever go near all the equipment and stupid training you need before actuallythink about stepping on the fucking plane."
He scribbles something on his stupid notepad right in front of him on the desk, making me groan. That's what he always does when I say something "deep", according to him. Talking about my life isn't "deep", mmkay, Doc? Psh, I could have gotten the fucking degree if I focused on college.
Until I killed Bree.
But I didn't.
//
I can remember it clearly – it's not like it's been that long.
I took a step back to look into Bree's eyes for the last time. Pulling her into a hug, her eyes watered on my already stained shirt – it's not like she would be blamed for it right now, it didn't matter anymore.
It was all done wordlessly. We didn't need dialogue to explain anything, we knew what we had to say to each other – words were useless to describe the intensity.
She let go of me, and I was waiting for her nod of approval.
It doesn't hurt, Bree, I tried to say it all through my eyes, currently gazing at her. Take a deep breath and you'll soon forget it all.
She nodded, a droplet of salty water emerging from her pale blue eye.
I pulled the trigger.
It all went pitch black for her.
And I was wishing it was me.
//
"Edward, why are we here, right now?"
The question takes him by surprise, his eyes studying my face carefully. I suddenly think that I would give everything and anything to know what he's thinking of.
"Bella, your life is going to be over in less than 24 hours. What is your last meal going to be? Have you thought about the colour of your urn?"
This calls for a little argument.
"Edward, who is going to be there to see it happen? Two guards to keep my ass from running away from the scene, someone to push me off the platform….and you."
Why are his eyes fucking twinkling? He looks away from me, faking it all and stares into his notepad.
"Alice is going to be there – don't you want her there? I thought you two were friends."
I stand up again and he does so too – what, does he think I'll try to strike again in less than five minutes?
"Bella –"
"Edward, I was just leaving. I have no intention of fu-attacking you right now. Tee-tee-why-ell and toodles."
I turn around and run to the door, but his considerably high and authoritative voice makes me turn around to face him again.
"What did you just say?"
Sometimes I feel like slapping him so bad.
"I said I'll talk to you later and I bid you goodbye."
His gaze lingers for a long, long moment on me, his eyes going down to my lips and I finally realize what he's doing.
Watching.
Staring.
Looking.
NO. He's too close!
"O-okay? Can I g-go now?" my voice breaks into a sob, his green eyes flashing in a manner that I cannot decode.
I don't even wait for him to react any further – I am already out the door in a flash.
~*~
"Bella Bella Bella Bella Bella!" Alice keeps chanting as I shut both my ears with my hands.
"No, Alice! Shut up!" I try, but with no success. She is dancing around the room in her pyjamas, trying to prove that she can say my name correctly for ten times in a row – I never doubted her about it, yet she started it.
"Alice! I will call Doctor Cullen if you don't stop!" Nurse Rosalie tries to shut her up, but I secretly know – Alice made me swear I wouldn't tell – that she's trying to persuade Edward to stretch her incarceration time as much as possible by doing all this bizarre shit that Edward would have to research and find a weird, scientific name for and that would label her as even crazier than she really is. Basically, Alice is a major faker and too afraid to face the world.
Alice keeps on dancing around the room, knocking my crystal vase on the floor. And honestly? I really don't care about the vase.
Nurse Rosalie finally can't take it anymore and presses the red button next to the door. In less than five seconds, two other nurses appear and take Alice away. Alice is kicking and screaming, the fake crocodile tears somewhere next to her eyes. She fucking knows that she's going to be sedated and the goddamn needle hurts like a bitch when they stick it in you so forcefully – but she doesn't get it.
What a lovely Saturday.
I throw the old quilt off the bed and stand on my mattress, staring down at my body. My boobs are too small, I seem to have succeeded in forming a little tummy and my legs…well, let me not get in great fucking detail about my legs.
I think back at the time when I was pregnant; didn't I hate myself then too? Why wouldn't I? I looked like a fucking whale –
"Bella, get off the bed."
That voice. That purple, metal-studded, velvet voice.
I look up from my tummy and face him.
"Why?" I simply ask.
He looks at me with an arched eyebrow.
"Don't do that eyebrow thing; you know your stupid charms don't work. And why, why would I obey you in the last hours of my life, Edward? Why?" I spit out, the venom pooling somewhere deep in my body.
"Bella," he warns, "you don't want me to call the nurses."
I get off the bed and pin him against the wall, the action astonishing us both. He doesn't flinch; it's as if I haven't done anything to him. As if he couldn't do anything to counteract it all. He could simply shove me lightly and still get me off him, yet he doesn't.
"What the fuck do you want, doctor? Do you think I'm not realizing the fact that I'm going to be hanged tomorrow morning? I've killed people before, and I won't hesitate to dig my nails into your neck right now, and you fucking know that I'd do it," I hiss, internally cursing myself for all the things that could come out of my filthy mouth if the last inch of self-control wasn't there.
He doesn't say anything. He doesn't move, he doesn't breathe more than he's supposed to – why isn't he scared?
"Goddamn it, why aren't you reacting to all this shit?" I breathe angrily against his ear, my lips almost touching his soft skin. He takes a gulp under my Herculean hold.
"You don't scare me," he growls.
I laugh softly, devilishly, and pull back to study his face, still holding on to his neck.
"I just told you I've killed people, my own daughter, and you're not scared?"
He shrugs. He fucking shrugs. I curse under my breath.
"You don't scare me," he repeats, but with more edginess to his voice.
"You don't scare me when you're threatening to call the fucking nurses, either."
A half-smile creeps up his face. "I know that. I can't scare you. Bella, you're fearless. Nothing could ever scare you."
The action I'm taking right now scares me.
I relax against his lean, toned body and release the hold on his neck, resting my hand on his shoulder. I breathe in his scent – honeysuckle, lavender and a tinge of…whiskey.
His hands go around my waist, pulling me into a hug that I couldn't even dare to dream of in the last three years of therapy with him. He grips on my shirt lightly, putting his head on top of mine.
"Why?" he mutters into my hair.
The tears threaten to leave my eyes, but I blink them all back. No, I tell myself, not now.
He rubs soothing circles on my lower back, but in fact they are not soothing at all – they are too soft, too rough, too comfortable…
I take another deep breath and bite on my lip, almost starting to chew on it nervously. "I don't know why, Edward. I wish I did."
His hand moves up higher my back, up to my hair. "Come with me. You can't stay here tonight. I…I can't leave you here."
A gasp in horror wouldn't be the right thing to do right now, although it is the only thing that would explain what I'm feeling on the fucked up side of my brain. The other half whispers "go" to me, urging me to take that step and move along with him, towards the place he wants to take me.
"Just…hold my hand," I finally manage to say, not wanting to wait anymore. I was done with the fucked up side, I was done trying to work it out, I was done…I was just done.
~*~
There are no guards on the long corridor towards the two safety doors we have to cross. Edward lets go of my hand as we cross to the other side of the two doors, nodding at the three security guards and two nurses as we pass. I keep my head down, not wanting to eye anyone and see the looks they are surely giving me. I don't want their pity, I don't want them to think that they're sharing my pain – they'll never get what I'm going through, and it's my shit to handle.
Edward unlocks the French door to his office, letting me in first. He takes a look around him before stepping into the wide room, locking the door behind him.
The uncomfortable silence sets in between us – what is he thinking? Is he regretting taking me away from my room? Is this silence a less painful way of telling me that my foolish actions are not heading in a good direction?
"Aren't you afraid of dying?"
I take a step forward, closing some of the space between us.
"I'm afraid, and scared, and terrified all in one." My words couldn't be truer right now. Of course I fear for my life, of course if I could, I'd somehow turn back time and not make myself repeat the mistakes I've done – the mistakes I don't regret, but would give a second thought about right now.
"What do you feel, then?" He takes a step and grabs my hand, squeezing it gently.
I look down towards that action that could only be shared intimately with that one person you love – not that that would have ever been Jasper. "I feel pain somewhere deep in my chest, trying to empty me out – to chew me away. I feel ignorance when the thought of learning about myself comes up – it disgusts me to know what problems I'm facing. I feel…love in my heart. An innocent crush, but could be much more."
He gasps at my sudden declaration, but tries to stay professional, yet fails miserably if you think about everything that's happened until now. I take another step and finally close the gap between us.
"Bella, you have one more day to live. Are you sure this is how you want to go? Isn't there anything you want to do, or tell someone, before you die?" He repeats his exact words from a lot earlier today, and a tear finally escapes my eye, despite my constant and very large efforts today to keep my feelings at bay.
"I don't want to go. I just…realized I was not so right about everything that's happened – that I could have done better."
He frowns, but leans in closer towards me and our foreheads press together. "I have to ask you a question," he whispers, "but it might hurt you or ruin the moment."
"Then why ask? Why destroy it all? Why…care?" I bombard him with questions, my lips inches away from his.
"That night…when Bree died," I clench my eyes shut, tears rolling down my face, "why did you do it, Bella? You were lucid. You knew."
His lips touch the corner of my mouth, and his hands start exploring something that wasn't unknown to them; they go up and down my back, creating this soft brush that makes my hands go around his neck and in his hair, stroking absently.
"I did it because Bree would have never been happy. Jasper was, or still is…not good."
I somehow find the need to analyze what Jasper was like to me.
He wasn't the type of man who promised you the world and the moon. If he wanted something from you, he would get it…and most of the times he did because you couldn't go against him. Did you want to get a severe concussion? Then don't defy Jasper. I wanted to get away from that – I couldn't take the constant threat around me; I could die any second and so could Bree. Why let Jasper do that to her?
Of course he never visits, because he is being followed too. No one knows that we had history except Edward – but he doesn't entirely know who Jasper is.
I recompose myself and continue my previous thought. "He wasn't good for me, and leaving Bree behind wouldn't have been a good option. Deep down, somewhere in the pit of my heart, I know that Bree would be thanking me for the fuckery that could have happened. And I was fully lucid. And she told me to do it, she hinted it, she –"
His lips cut into my speech and that's all I want to focus on. That's all…that's all I want. All I need. All I want to see, to feel, to touch, to hold. All I wished I could have if I didn't have to go so soon.
His lips move gently on mine, lightly sucking on my bottom lip while I work on his upper lip. We caress each other slowly, not focusing on anything in particular at each other, practically feeling each other up like lusty teenagers.
His tongue lingers on my lower lip, and how could I refuse to grant access to him? Who would ever refuse perfection himself?
He never treated me this way. During treatment or therapy sessions, he kept the humor at bay – until he loosened up with me. Was it because this is the last day of my life, and he finally…regretted?
He suddenly groans, pulling my tongue deeper, but it never gets out of boundaries. It never gets aggressive, it doesn't feel…like Jasper. This isn't Jasper, I try to make my fucked up part of my mind understand, even though I'm promising myself that I shouldn't be dealing with it ever again.
I find myself moaning into his mouth, not knowing what this meant – was I feeling good? Was I trying to tell him that I like what he's doing? I whimper at the sudden loss as his lips pull away from mine, but we're still so close, practically breathing each other's air.
"I believe you," is the only thing he says, not wanting to push it further, probably. It suddenly feels like words aren't a factor anymore – words are useless.
I rest my head on his broad chest, exploding into tears. Somewhere in between the muffled sounds of my crying and my light shaking, I manage to say, "I miss Bree. But I want to see her so bad – up there, in Heaven."
"Shh, Bella, don't say a thing," we slowly move from side to side, as if we were dancing a slow love song, "you'll be with Bree soon. Don't worry about it all, be quiet." His soft, velveteen voice soothes my ears for the first time ever.
Being in a man's arms never felt this way. Jasper never touched me like this, Jasper never told me such things after Bree stopped breathing. Jasper –
Edward is not Jasper. And this isn't a fantasy. I can see the difference.
We slowly move towards the faux leather couch, him sitting down first and I follow suit. He lays his whole body, pulling me on top of him, holding me around my waist and whispering sweet nothings into my ear. He shushes me, and I emerge of my mumbling state, closing my eyes and soon enough, the sudden darkness in my eyes fades away and I am swept into a deep slumber…
~*~
"Bella, wake up, love," a sweet voice murmurs in my ear.
I open up my eyes and find myself back in my cell, no sign of Alice, but Edward's green eyes are staring into mine.
"H-how did –" I try to speak but am immediately cut off by him.
"I brought you back here in the wee hours of the morning, that doesn't matter. We need to talk before they take you in."
What? Where? Why?
He groans in frustration. "Bella, are you lucid? Bella, who am I and what happened with Jasper three years ago? Can you tell the difference?"
I raise my hand and shush him. "No, Edward, it's not that. I perfectly know all the differences, I just don't…oh my God. My execution." I cling on to Edward's button-up shirt, already gasping the tears out of me as I try to think about my death in –
"Five minutes," he spits out of nowhere, as if he was reading my thoughts.
"I…I can't believe I'm so scared. Oh my God, Edward, I feel like it's my first blood test and I'm scared of the needle…I…I'm afraid to die!" I yell out and get weird stares from inmates in another cell neighbouring mine.
Edward puts a hand over my mouth in attempt to shut me up, but my screams only become muffled against his warm fingers. "Shh, Bella…B-Bree doesn't want to see you scared. She's waiting for you. She's…she's there. And she's ready to see you." He takes a deep breath, instructing me how to breathe by inhaling deeply, holding it all in and finally exhaling deeply.
He takes the hand away from my mouth and replaces it with his lips quickly, before the shadow of a guard appears smaller and smaller until the guard is right in front of my cell.
"Isabella Marie Swan?" he vociferates in a deep voice.
"Th-that's me."
"It's time to –"
"No, give my patient a minute. She's not ready yet." Edward interferes before I get taken away by a guard for the last time.
The guard chuckles. "Will she ever be ready?" He takes a step back, away from our peripheral vision, and Edward resumes kissing me.
His kisses are small, not urgent…but I feel love in them. For the first time in my life, I feel love.
"I love you," I gasp against his lips, suddenly happy of the discovery that I've found in the last minutes of my life. "Oh my God, I love you."
Edward laughs lightly, making my lips vibrate and bringing my whole body into a tingly phase.
Before Edward starts to say anything, the guard comes back in and opens the cell door. "Time's up."
I stand up and Edward does too, not holding my hand. The guard grabs me roughly and another guard soon appears, standing by my side as we all walk towards the little theatre a few seconds ahead.
~*~
I never thought I'd end like this.
Alice is crying her eyes out, clinging to Edward as if there's no tomorrow for her either. They are both sitting on chairs, a glass window separating us.
I'm standing on a Plexiglas platform, untouched by anyone else but me. Apparently, this is going next to my urn as a reminder of how it happened.
My thoughts are focused on Bree, but I'm still gazing at Edward. His eyes are on me too, but we cannot keep eye contact for long before one of us pulls away and rubs our eyes.
Just as one of the guards gets the black cloth ready over my head, I look at Edward's lips for one last time. The lips I would never kiss again, the lips that one lucky woman would take as her own once I'm gone.
And they mumbled 'I love you too' to me.
The black cloth goes over my head, I close my eyes as I can feel the thick rope around my neck, and in a moment's notice, someone removes the platform beneath me.
It all went pitch black.
