This is a test run for this fic idea. I've been kicking it around in my head for months and recently sat down to actually write part of it.
Before I get a thousand emails about whether I will continue Lovegame, I want you all to know YES. I WILL FINISH IT. I promise. My current game plan is to finish the remaining chapters before posting anything. That way there will be no more extensive lags between updates.
This chapter is unbetaed. Please take pity on my soul. I hope you enjoy.
She had left Phoenix with only the slightest of regrets. She wished she had given her mother a proper goodbye rather than the almost pedestrian "So long and thanks for all you've done" sort of comment that's reserved for relatives you hardly know and hotel clerks.
Truthfully her mother did not deserve a teary, heartfelt goodbye. Her mother, Renee, had abandoned her after her last bout of "treatment" at the hospital. She was positive it was the result of Renee's recent marriage to a younger, more distinguished man. He was not pleased with exactly how much of his new wife's time went to taking care of her "medically fragile" daughter.
Renee had made it clear: her new husband took priority over her own flesh and blood. The realization stung Bella, but she knew her mother had always been innately and unintentionally selfish. Renee had an extensive list of hobbies and an even longer list of willing men – both before and after Bella had been born.
Regardless of these facts, there was nothing left for her in Phoenix so she came to Forks. She prayed for a release from the tests, the prodding, the endless hospital stays. Perhaps her father would honor her request to stop the bi-weekly rounds in the short-stay ward, especially since it would require him to find a new and trustworthy doctor for the visits to continue.
The plane ride from Phoenix to Port Angeles was uneventful. When she stepped into the arrivals terminal, she couldn't help but notice the people were staring. She could make out the edges of hushed whispers, barely audible above the usual residual noise in an airport. Had they never seen a brunette girl before?
It annoyed her, despite being nothing new in her life. As a child her peers had stared at her without remorse. She assumed it had something to do with her inherent blandness or the generic nature of her features. She had always been pale with dark hair and dark eyes, never a standout in physicality.
When she had mentioned the staring to her mother, Renee had informed her of the actuality: they were awestruck by her frail beauty. As a child this meant nothing to her. She believed it was platitudes, especially after her illness became more pronounced and she missed more of school.
The doctors and nurses throughout the years were not immune to the childish staring either. When Bella called a nurse out on her rudeness, the woman had proclaimed, "It can't be helped. What a beautiful girl!"
Being an inherently shy person, the attention was embarrassing. She hated every second of it. It's too late now, she thought to herself as she briskly walked through the terminal. You've sealed your fate at this point. Forks is a small town, surely they will be curious.
While she stood at baggage claim, she could feel the weight of eyes upon her slight form. She silently pleaded for something, anything to interrupt her discomfort. Where was Charlie? She thought her mother had arranged for him to meet her down here because it would be less crowded. Renee had been all too eager to get rid of her 17-year-old burden and therefore put an enormous amount of thought into Bella's move to Washington.
Her hands adjusted the strap of her laptop bag on her shoulder, trying to find something to do while she waited for the luggage to tumble onto the revolving belt. Self-consciously she smoothed her hair down with her free hand. Maybe her hair had been sticking up in the front? She had fallen asleep on the plane after all.
A warm hand descended on to her shoulder, startling her. She spun around in surprise and came face to face with her father. Charlie gave her a warm smile and she couldn't resist the same from appearing on her face. "Hi Dad," she greeted him affectionately.
Charlie looked Bella over, noting that she seemed healthier than the last time her mother had called to update him. "Hi Bells, you look great!" He awkwardly made a move to give her a hug, which she embraced wholeheartedly. She hadn't seen her father in a year or two…not since her last serious hospitalization. While Renee had been off with her latest love interest, Charlie had flown down to stay by her bedside. Though he had not really been a huge part of her life, she adored him for the way he took care of her when no one else cared to. He had put his life on hold for his daughter and it immediately wiped away any skepticism Bella had for her father.
"How are you, Dad?" she asked. A loud motor roared, signaling the start of the luggage being fed onto the electric belt.
"I've been good. Pretty busy with work. You know, the usual around these parts," he replied. "What does your luggage look like? I'll grab it for you."
"You don't have to do that," she said. "I'm fine. Been better than usual, actually."
Charlie gave her a skeptical look that spoke volumes. "Humor your old man? Let me take care of you for a little bit."
She tried to control the flare of annoyance at the look on his face. They always thought she would break at any moment. She gave a slight sigh of defeat and said, "It's a dark blue set with yellow ribbon tied around the handles. I only brought two suitcases plus this carry on with me." She gestured to the matching smaller piece of luggage standing upright at her side.
Silence descended on the pair as they watched the revolving belt. After a few minutes Charlie was able to gather both of her suitcases and they were on their way out of the airport.
They were safely situated in Charlie's police cruiser and well onto the highway when the conversation she had hoped to avoid began.
"So Bella, I know you were hoping that this move would mean no more visits to the doctor. While I wish that were the case, I don't feel comfortable ending your treatment," said Charlie. His attention was on the winding curves of the 101 rather than his daughter at the moment.
He glanced at Bella when she didn't respond immediately but she offered no rebuttal to his comment. He forged on, deciding it was better to get out all of it before she interrupted. "Forks Hospital has a very talented staff. They recently hired a new hematologist, Doctor Cullen. He got your records from Phoenix a couple of days ago and has decided to take you on as a patient."
Still no response. Interesting.
"Your first appointment is Monday afternoon, after school lets out for the day. He would like to meet us in his office and then he will do a few preliminary tests," he continued. "I think you'll really like Doctor Cullen. He's a fantastic doctor who –"
"Dad, I really don't care how wonderful a doctor he is. I've seen so many "fantastic" doctors that I should be cured by now," she interrupted. "I wish Mom hadn't gone behind my back like this. She knows that the only thing I wanted from my move here was to never step foot in a hospital again."
"She mentioned it," said Charlie, stealing another glance at his daughter. Despite looking better than in the past, she was still unnaturally thin and pale. "You know I don't want to torture you, Bella. I just want you to not be plagued by your Gaucher's disease."
There was a tense silence in the cruiser that stretched for several miles before Bella relented.
"I know," she said sullenly. "I've been good about my bi-weekly visits and taking the supplements like the doctor prescribed. I thought that would be the end of it."
"That's what I've heard," he said as he tried to think of a way to relieve the tension. After coming up empty, he reached over and clicked the knob of the radio to the 'on' position. To her surprise, rather than the usual police radio banter, a soft jazz tune filled the cab of the cruiser.
Bella tried to force down her frustration. It wouldn't do any good to argue at this point. She eyed the radio for a moment, noting how it had effectively ended the conversation.
The best part about Charlie was that he never hovered. He left her to her own devices after helping her lug her stuff upstairs. She pleaded that she could manage it all on her own but he wasn't having any of that. He used his "let me be a father" card for the second time in mere hours and like a chump she fell for it all over again.
Now she was alone in a tiny purple walled bedroom that reminded her of a nursery rather than a teenage girl's bedroom. There was a simple dresser across from the twin bed draped in a soft flowered bedspread, a nightstand next to the bed, and two bookshelves against the wall next to the door. A simple desk was pushed into a corner, an archaic computer perched on top of it. Bella noticed there was a thick coat of dust over almost everything…Guess I'll be cleaning a bit, she though bitterly. As soon as the comment crossed her mind, she berated herself for it. Charlie was making an effort.
After all, he had never had a daughter before this week.
She immediately set about tidying the small bedroom by dusting and putting her clothes away in the heavy oak dresser. She shuffled to the bathroom and put her toiletries away in the cabinet that her father had cleared out. She hadn't many things to put away, so the tasks were completed fairly quickly.
She took a brief shower before going to bed early that night. She was anxious for tomorrow. Charlie had already arranged for her records to be transferred to the local high school so that she wouldn't miss any courses. It was the middle of semester, which made Bella especially nervous to be new. She doubted there was a worse time for her to transfer into a new (and small) school.
Exhausted from her busy day of flights and awkward introductions, she fell into a fitful sleep.
Halfway through the night she woke up in a cold sweat. Her hands were shaking as she pushed back the covers and shoved her hair from her face. She took a few steadying breaths as she tried to calm her racing heart.
Someone had been pleading for her in her dreams. She couldn't tell if it was male or female, old or young. Just that they needed her and they needed her now. She recalled some sort of struggle followed by a thick spurt of blood from her forearm. Something had cut her.
Her sense of smell had been arrested by the odor of coppery blood, a smell that usually sickened her. This time it smelled sweet, almost welcoming to her. Cold arms had snatched her bleeding appendage and tugged her to a snapping jaw full of sharp teeth. She remembered struggling, crying, pleading against those arms.
A soft voice had told her an indecipherable something…no matter how hard she focused she could not unscramble the voice's words. A different set of hands had reached for her and barely missed, the fingertips slightly tangling through her hair before they slipped away.
She sat up now in the dark, squaring her shoulders against the ghosts of her nightmare. Dreams like this were not uncommon to Bella, each one varying in intensity and depth throughout her life. Every single time she awoke shaking, cold down to her very core.
She tried to brush it off as nerves but knew that wasn't plausible. A sharp pain settled in her chest and spread outward, causing her stomach to clench in agony. She twisted in on herself to try and contain the pointed ache.
When was the last time she ate again? She thought back to the apple and toast she had this morning in Phoenix before her flight…her mind drawing a blank past the airplane peanuts she choked down mid-flight. How could she have been so stupid?
Of course her body was rebelling – she was hungry and had forgotten to take her nightly vitamin supplements. With one arm firmly encircling her torso, she stood from the bed and pulled out a little green makeup bag before quietly descending the stairs.
She stumbled rather gracelessly into the tiny kitchen and over to the refrigerator. To her amazement, the shelves were filled with foods she liked to eat. There were apples and other fresh fruits, eggs, milk, cheese, vegetables – even a specific type of juice she enjoyed. She felt some of the distantness she had harbored toward Charlie thaw a bit at the display. It was apparent he had not only researched what she could eat, but went out of his way to find things she liked.
Though it was late she set about scrambling some eggs, washing an apple and making toast. After bringing her plate to the counter, she proceeded to eat her meal with slow and deliberate strokes of the fork. She knew from previous experience that she had to go at it slow - otherwise she would be violently ill. Though it had smelled good while it was cooking, the eggs tasted like dirt and the toast was transformed to sandpaper on her tongue. She choked down both items but left the apple abandoned on the counter.
She reached into the small green bag at her side to withdraw the different cocktail of pills she had to take every day. They were mostly vitamins but she would occasionally add in a painkiller or two if her body was hurting especially bad. Right now Bella felt as though her bones were aching.
It took several visits to the doctor to make the dosages were correct. The doctors in Phoenix had diagnosed her with a metabolic disorder, Gaucher's Disease, type one though she was young and in otherwise good health, after a particularly disastrous hospital stay. They claimed her extreme fatigue, consistent pain, and anemia were the result of the disease. Every two weeks since diagnosis she had faithfully participated in intravenous enzyme replacement therapy. The port on her chest hurt at the thought of being stuck by another needle. She rubbed it unconsciously.
The treatments really weren't helping. Since her diagnosis at fifteen she had been hospitalized more than ten times. It didn't matter how tightly she watched her diet or if she timed medications down to the last second. She wasn't stabilizing like the doctors predicted she would.
The strangest thing was, she always felt better off the enzyme injections. She had been a spotty eater before diagnosis but she now noticed her appetite lagging extensively behind normalcy. Renee had to plead with Bella to eat regular meals, citing this as the reason behind her numerous hospital trips.
It wasn't. She was just…different. At the worst of it, when the pain felt as though it was too much to bear, Bella thought something was crawling under her skin. It felt as though something dark and deep was pervading her veins, seeping into muscle and flesh and bone. Something was changing her, though she wasn't sure of why and she certainly wasn't sure how.
Millions of times in Bella Swan's life she wondered if she was beyond saving. Perhaps her body would give out one day and she would be allowed to rest without the prodding of physicians.
She held her breath at the thought, her heart pounding in her ears as she dry swallowed the pills. As soon as she swallowed the medicine, she let the air out of her lungs in one large outburst.
No, my body refuses to give out on me, she thought to herself, even though that's all I want. Peace. Just one moment without being someone's test subject or being the topic of hospital interns' rounds.
She washed her plate and drank some water before slowly walking upstairs. She didn't feel any better after eating.
Her stomach clenched. She bypassed her bedroom and headed for the small bathroom at the end of the hall. With the hand not around her middle, she lifted the toilet seat and dropped to her knees in front of it. She felt warm and cold at the same time, her whole body throbbing.
No! She angrily thought, not now! Please, I can't be sick now! I'm supposed to start a normal life here in Forks. I get to be Bella here, not just "Patient Swan". This can't start all over again.
Her conversation with Charlie about her health being better than before seemed like such a joke now. She was doing fantastic – her first night with her dad and she was hugging a toilet bowl. She silently pleaded with herself to feel better so that she wouldn't miss classes in the morning. She really hoped this wave of nausea would pass by then.
With a pained sigh, Bella leaned her hot forehead against the cool of the porcelain. It soothed some of the warmth and made it a little more bearable. She closed her eyes, concentrating on everything else but how awful she felt.
After some time had passed, she slowly attempted to stand. A flood of dizziness caused her to stagger to the counter. Both hands gripped the countertop tight enough to turn her knuckles white. Bella washed her face, trying to ignore the signs that she wasn't as well as she initially thought. A quick glance in the mirror revealed paler than normal skin, dark circles under yellow-tinted brown eyes. She shook her head in disgust before heading to her bedroom. Without turning on the light, Bella pulled back the covers and slipped in while fully clothed.
Shutting her eyes to fight the continued swirls of spots behind her eyes, Bella fell asleep for the first time in Forks.
About Gaucher's disease:
A metabolic disorder where the body does not produce enough of the enzyme glucocerebrosidase. It is diagnosed via a blood test to analyze the enzymes present in the blood. An individual with Gaucher's disease is prone to a variety of symptoms:
Thinning of bones, bone pain, high rate of fractures
An enlarged liver or spleen (or both)
Anemia
Excessive fatigue
Excessive bruising, usually due to a low platelet count
Yellow spots in eyes
Delayed puberty
A tendency to bleed. Includes frequent nosebleeds.
Treatments include intravenous enzyme replacement therapy, possible bone marrow transplants, or an oral medication.
All information is from the Mayo Clinic website. I do not personally have Gaucher's disease, so please bear with me on any details I may miss.