Chapter 4: Drowning in the Perils of Syrup

Disclaimer: Ho Hum, and I am back AGAIN!! I am stealing Mrs. Meyer characters for ANOTHER exciting anecdote!! (while giving all credit of the characters to the ever lovely Missus Meyer –wait. That wouldn't be stealing, now would it? AWW SCREW IT THEN. No stealage here. STEALING IS OVERRATED ANYWAY.)

AN: i finally finished this chapter! i know i haven't updated in a while, but i do have a legit excuse, and if you would like to know, just go to chap. 8 of my other fic pieces of him. (POH if you will..) i SWEAR i haven't just been slacking off! the second i posted the last chapter in POH (sorry that's just too funny) i started working back on this! so i hope this chapter isn't too boring, while with sadly no bella action, he does re-experience things, and i think his reactions are so darn funny. SOO anyway, read on my lovelies!

~-~pdah~-~

Edward. . .

I woke up. It was blinding. Everything was shining from the sun. I got this strange sense of deja vu. Then I remembered why. The cruel thing about it all, was that everything I couldn't remember came crashing down on me. I found my self wishing for that post-partying remembrance where everything you stupidly did before, becomes clear in the morning. I think there is actually a term for it, dejabrew.

There was no recollection of any of my past, good, or bad. I was just about as ignorant about myself as I had been when I first awoke, minus the dejected feelings. I closed my and buried my head underneath the covers, trying to get back into a state of unconsciousness.

I was not going back to sleep.

I could not escape reality.

I sighed then threw the covers off, being promptly blinded again by the brightness of everything. I was really going to have to do something about all this..gold.. All this reflected light was getting to me, and I really did not need the handicap of being visually impaired to add to my problems.

Then the cold hit me. Brr. I was still only in my boxers, and it was freezing. It was sunny out. Why was it so cold? I looked out and saw a river across a forest. I could see mountains, and I wondered where exactly we lived again, for the mountains seemed so close. Probably somewhere in the northwest, if it was this cold. I got up to look around in my closet. I was actually really nervous. I didn't know what I would see. What if I wore those stupid baggy, just-about-to-fall-off-your-rear pants, or untasteful 'Real men wear pink' T-shirts. It's not that I had anything against the sentiment, or thought otherwise, but the baggy untasteful way I saw them mostly worn, and design of the shirts was not one I particularly liked.

I walked in and was relived to see many of polos and button-downs, and dark jeans and dress pants. I sighed out in relief. I started to dress and put on the first shirt my hand found, and put on some jeans. It was slightly unnerving looking through supposedly my clothes and not knowing what to expect. I didn't know what to do next. I would have brushed my teeth, but I didn't know if I would be eating again anytime soon, so I went downstairs to see what was happening.

They were family right? They would probably have some idea as to what to do. I walked downstairs, and thankfully did not get lost, as I heard the sound of TV, and a sizzling something somewhere, near. I walked I walked down the hallway into the kitchen and saw Esme frying some bacon, and pancakes, and at the counter were Alice and Emmet, the latter shoveling food into his mouth, the former chatting animatedly with Esme, with their backs to me. Carlisle was in the living room reading a newspaper. Esme noticed me and smiled.

"Good morning, Edward." Emmet twisted his body around too look at me.

"He's finally up. I thought he was dead or something." Esme shot him a stern look.

"Don't say such things, as if you believe they would happen!" She reprimanded sharply. I didn't understand why she was getting so worked up, but then I remembered I had just gotten out of a week-long coma. Emmet obviously realized at the same time as me, and opened his mouth to apologize, but I cut him off.

"It's not like you look like you got up much earlier than me," He looked like he had literally just tumbled out of bed and into the kitchen, "So what's the big deal?" I said back playfully, to let him know I wasn't upset, and that there was not reason to apologize at all.

"Well for me, waking up around 11, 12, is normal, but you? For you it's a rare occurrence. You are usually up at the butt crack of dawn with the Alice Monster." He smirked, then stuck his hand on top of said Alice's head, and mussed up her hair. Not a second later we were all affronted with the sight of Emmet on the ground, lying on his back, groaning.

"And that's what you get for messing up my hair," Alice said, stepping down from the stool and over him. She casually skipped over to me, and said, "Morning Edward" sweetly, kissed me on the cheek, then continued on to join Carlisle in the living room. I looked behind at her retreating form.

For someone so small she was scary. My head whipped back around to Emmet, who was getting up, and rumbled out, "I'm gonna get you Alice." Alice just waved her hand half-heartedly over her shoulder, and Emmet chuckled. "Thats my girl," I heard him mumble. I turned back to him.

"How did she do that?" I asked in disbelief, "She's so small, and you are so big." Emmet grinned at me.

"That, my brother, is one of the many mysteries of Lady Alice," he pressed his lips together at the way I shook my head in disbelief, then laughed again, "I know, she takes some getting used to, but I love the squirt all the same." I was about to nod to seem like agreeing, but this strange noise emitted from my lower torso.

I looked down, Was there something inside of me? What else would make such a sound? It felt a little peculiar too... Emmet saw my terrified expression, and laughed once more. He wrapped his arm around my shoulder, then with the other, mussing up my hair, and saying, still laughing, "Oh, Eddie, its nothing to worry about; that's only your stomach growling." I still felt a little skeptical, but it made sense. I knew the Greeks even had a name for the growling, borborygmi. I smiled as I thought of how the Greeks had come up with the word by simply trying to imitate the sound made by the rumbling. Esme spoke up, "How about I make you something? How do hash browns, bacon, and pancakes sound?"

"Um. I don't really know how they taste, but they sound good?" I said hopefully. Esme smiled.

"Don't worry, I know you'll like them; they are one of your favorites." Huh. Good to know I guess. I watched Esme as she started seasoning the potatoes that were already in the grill pan, and mixing the potatoes every which way, before letting them sit, and then putting some pancake batter in medium sized circles onto a gridle, and let it expand and puff. As she waited a little, she looked up at me and smiled warmly.

"Here, let me get you something to drink. How about Pi-" Esme started, but was cut off by Emmet quickly saying "-Orange Juice!" Esme laughed and nodded her head, turning to the refrigerator to get a glass and the carton.

I looked at them in confusion. What was that all about? She set the glass down in front of me and poured that juice halfway. Going back to tend my pancakes, she nudged at the sides, and flipping them over with the spatula. After that task was finished, she bent down and opened a cupboard to the side of the sink. When she came back up, another pan was in her hand. She put it on top of the stove, wiping it clean of any dust that might have settled on it, then moved back to stirring the potatoes, and adding a little seasoning where she thought necessary.

Gingerly taking the pre-cut bacon, she set them in the empty pan that had been just taken out, then turned up the heat. She quickly went back to the griddle and checked to see if the pancakes were ready. Satisfied, I think she was because she switched off the heat, and turned back to the bacon, turning it over just as one side was getting perfectly crisp. She stirred the potatoes once more before trying one, and deciding it was ready. Then cutting of the heat on everything, she then took out plates.

"Wow. That was amazing." I said in awe of her performance. I had never seen such riveting cooking. Then again, I had never seen any cooking to begin with. Esme and Emmet laughed.

"Was it now? I never think my cooking is anything that special." Esme said.

"Oh, but it was! It was the most fascinating thing I have ever witnessed!" I exclaimed. Emmet was howling by now.

"S-says the amnesiac...,"he got out between breaths. I stuck out my tongue, feeling happy and playful, and actually not at all in denial about what he said.

"Well, wait till you try it, to tell me how your thoughts on my cooking are," said Esme. My eyes widened as I realized this.

"You mean I get to it also?!" I asked excitedly. I honestly hadn't thought of I knew she was cooking me, I forgot, didn't really think about the fact that I would be eating what she cooked too.

"Y-you know," Emmet got out between guffaws. He was now, nearly falling off the stool he was sitting on, in the effort of trying to stay on, with his laughter shaking his body, "I d-don't think I realized," he broke off in another fit of laughter, "h-h-how much I missed you t-till now." Esme just shook her head at him, smiling at me. She brought the plate, well plates, there were two, around and set them in front of us. I looked at where the second plate was placed. In front of Emmet.

"Are you honestly going to eat more? Weren't you stuffing your face when I came in?" Emmet shrugged and looked back at me and said, "Hey, I'm a growing boy, I gotsa kept up the nutrition," before turning back to his food and digging in. I looked back down at my own food. A delicious smell was wafting up from the plate, and I felt my stomach grumbling again. I smiled. Now that I knew what it was it was kind of a fun feeling to experience. Esme looked at me worriedly.

"Does it not look good?"

"Oh, no, it looks absolutely wonderful. I am actually just enjoying the feeling of my tummy grumbling."

"Ah, I see," she nodded, "I, myself, like feeling every once in a while." she said smiling.

I took the knife and fork in my hand, and cut a slice of the pancake like I had cut last night. Spearing the slice with my fork, I gently set it in my mouth, closing my teeth around the fork and pulling back out. I chewed down on the pancake slowly, I noticed how it felt like my jaw was stretching in rotation. I brought my hands up to my temple. It was moving too. I faster. It pumped in more furiously under my fingertips. I tilted my head back, and swallowed. It was a funny feeling. I could feel it going down my throat. I counted to ten. Hmm. It was in my stomach now.

But swallowing kind of hurt, having to actually push it down my throat, and it felt kind of scratchy. I spied my orange juice. That might help with the scratchy dry feeling...Taking abig gulp, the liquid followed my pancakes to their previous destination. It felt as if it were revitalizing my body from the inside out. But it was all over too soon. I another big gulp, but this time the sensation was only about half as much there. I guess it only happened like that the first time. Then I realized that I didn't even remember how the pancakes tasted like.

I cut another slice, and chewed more slowly this time savoring the taste. It was fantastic. I couldn't really think of any foods to describe it by, since the only food I had ever tasted had been my dinner last night, and 'tomato-y' or 'pastafull' didn't really fit the bill right now. I wondered why I wasn't as enraptured with the eating of food last night, as I was right now. Maybe it was just because I was so concentrated on eating enough food as to be polite, with that nasty extra minty flavor of toothpaste marring my potentially delicious food. I really liked the pancakes though. They were nice and simple, without any sugar, butter, or syrup, unlike Emmet who had practically drowned the poor things with the amount of butter and syrup he had slathered on there. How could that even be appetizing? It looked positively revolting. I swallowed. It felt better this time.

I looked down back down at my plate. I still had bacon and hashed brows to try out. Going with the bacon, I tried to stick it on my fork. My eyebrows bunched in frustration when cutting it the short way didn't work, but I figured out that slicing down the middle, then bunching it up on my fork, got it moderately bite-sizable. I took a bite. It was good, but almost a bit too greasy for me. I didn't really like the crunchiness of the bacon, but I did like the flavor. Swallowing once again, I moved on to the hash browns. I speared a couple onto my forks and stuck it in my chewing. Savoring the tastiness of the seasoning, I swirled my tongue around. I stuck on a couple more bites in to eat.

I looked up and swallowed; Esme was looking at me with a hint of smile on her lips as sipped some steaming drink. I smiled sheepishly at her; she must have seen the whole thing. I looked back over to my side to see if Emmet had been watching me, but no, he was still utterly, devoutly involved with his consuming food. Which was almost all the way gone. I looked down at my plate. I had only gotten about five bites.

"Well Edward, what would you like to do today?" Esme asked, once I had accepted the fact that Emmet was an eating monster, he'd probably eat a whole grizzly bear, while I went back to eating the pancakes.

"I would like to know what today is first of all." I said, my voice a little muffled by the food, and only slightly joking.

"Saturday," Carlisle answered coming back in from the living.

"And are Emmet and Alice still going to school on Monday?" I asked, "Or are we on some kind of break?"

"Yes they are going to school tomorrow, but- "

"I want to go." I cut in. Esme looked a little surprised and worried.

"Edward, honey, you don't need to feel rushed, pressured into going too. We talked to the school, and they know about your condition, and they said to come once your are ready." said Esme, more of that worry for me crawling into her voice.

"You asked me earlier what I want to do today?" I asked, reconfirming her earlier question.

"Yes...?" she asked, unsure where this was going since, I wasn't about to ask to go to school today.

"Well, what I want to do is remember. If that means going to school, then I will go to school as soon as I am allowed." I said firmly. Esme looked a little taken aback, and still a little worried.

"Are you sure Edward?" she said again, "We can always wait till next week, you -." Carlisle cut in then.

"Esme, dear," He said, laying a hand on her back, "If Edward wants to go to school on Monday, then he will. It seems as he's already decided on it, and you know our Edward, once decided there is simply no talking him out of anything." Esme looked up at him and smiled, then turned her gaze back at me.

"That's our son," she said still smiling affectionately. I felt slightly uncomfortable with both of them looking at me like that, not because it was creepy, but because I couldn't honestly look back at them like that, so I looked down, and filled my mouth with a couple bites.

"How about for today," Carlisle started with, "We just let you get used to things?" I shook my head. I thought I would just get bored. He smiled.

"I thought you would say that. But hey, can't a father try to get a son to have a relaxing day of nothing?"

"Honey, you are just as bad he is," said Esme, swatting his arm.

"Okay, I admit this true," He nodded his head in mock regret, "So how about this instead? We'll show you some of your hobbies, show you the piano, the Volvo, things like that, so at least it your day should be a little relaxing, then tomorrow we'll get to the more serious things like photos-"

"Oh yeah, photos are really hardcore," a smirking Emmet said. I had totally forgotten he was there, which I would have thought before, would have been impossible as he had been shoveling. The food, that is.

"I am not saying the photos themselves will be hard to understand, but the possibility of not remembering what happened behind the photo, is great, so it might be a little more than a bit frustrating," explained Carlisle. Carlisle seemed to always know everything; what was right, or wrong, or uncomfortable, or tiring. But then again, he was a doctor.

"Why aren't you at the hospital right now?" I asked. I thought doctors had very demanding shifts, and they usually didn't have much time to lounge around house in the late morning.

"Because I don't need to come in until the afternoon, unless something very urgent and life-threatening comes up, and because I wanted to make sure you were all right on your first morning at your home. Or at least, where your home will hopefully become." he finished with a rueful smile. I opened my mouth to apologize, even though I didn't know exactly how, or what to apologize for, but he continued, cutting me off.

"So lets get you started on your hobbies, piano or Volvo first?" he asked .

"Um. I don't know if it would be exactly safe to drive so early in waking up to life, so I think I'll go with the piano." He chuckled at that, then turned to Esme.

"Well then, my dear, please show the boy to the piano room," he looked down at his watch, "And I need to go soon, so I will see you all this evening." He kissed Esme's cheek then headed out.

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I was speechless. The piano was beautiful. I can't very well verify this statement by saying it was the most luxurious instrument I had ever seen as I hadn't ever seen another instrument to begin with. I crept toward it carefully, afraid if I were to surprise this image, it should go away. I got to the the bench and lifted the midnight black keyboard cover to reveal the ebony and ivory keys. Slowly, I let one finger press down on three separate keys. C Minor. Somehow I knew that was the chord. I changed the position of my fingers and tried it again. The second the hammers hit the strings, I knew I had played E Major 7th.

"It's all coming back to you now isn't?" I jumped, and span back around;I had forgotten Esme was still there.

"I only remembered that the chord I just played was E Major 7th, and before that was C Minor. I just heard the sound and knew." Esme smiled, but sighed.

"If only real life could be that easy." she said wistfully. I nodded in agreement, "Well, I let you get back to your piano, but first let me show you some music books that you can try out if you like," she walked over to a antique mahogany cabinet, and took out some worn music books.

"Now here were your favorites, but feel free to use any," she turned back to the cabinet, "Oh, and here's a piano lesson book, just in case you need help reading the notes or are stumped on a chord." Handing over the books, she started to walk out, but said over her shoulder, "Stay here as long as you need, but if you get hungry or need any thing just holler," then laughing she added, her voice fading,

"Just let all the pent-up music flow through your fingers like it always does..."

I sat down on the piano bench, picked up the most worn book, and opened it to a random page. It was in the middle of a piece, so I flipped back a couple pages.

I looked at it.

I blinked.

I looked at it again.

I pressed down a key.

Nothing was happening.

I sighed.

I guess I was going to have to start from a little easier level. Chopin was supposed to be pretty difficult. I grudgingly closed the book, set it down, then opened the the lesson book. I sniffed at the thought, feeling , somehow, somewhat insulted that I would actually have to use the thing.

I skimmed through the first pages, almost immediately relearning and re-memorizing everything, and I got through most of the scales. Then I was onto the the bigger things like using both hands, and chords, and actual songs. I had to start easy (again) because I was having a little trouble reading the music as quickly as I could play it. In the next hours though, I was almost all the way through the book and I could start to feel it.

There was this energy I could feel slowly bubbling up from my toes, inching forward to my fingers, with every note I got better at playing. I decided I had been good and studied enough, so I opened up a song book, that looked a little more used, but not all too difficult. I tried playing some of the songs that were from there, but once I got the hang of whatever song I was playing, the energy would advance closer and closer, and then I was going off at on my own, totally diregarding the piece I was supposed to be following. I didn't enjoy slaughtering the composition that was carefully composed by the composer, so I shut the book again.

I laid my finger back down gently on the keys and closed my eyes. I could feel it coming back, gradually moving back up my body. I played a simple scale to help it along, adding rifts and transitions into other scales. It was coming nearer, so I pushed on more urgently, adding my left hand, threading in more intricate harmonies. I left my hands wander up and down the board, crawling under and over each other when they met. I shut my eyes tighter, trying to let the feel of my fingers sliding over the ivory keys take over me. It reminded me of Bella's ivory colored skin and that was it. My fingers were ablaze trying to capture the disorientation I was currently going through. I let all my confusion, my anger, my hopelessness, at my current predicament out in the hard, fast notes I was playing.

I still didn't understand why I had to go through this. Had I done something so terribly wrong before that I needed to be punished by my losing of memory? I couldn't comprehend how that would work since I wouldn't know how to right my wrongs. My notes grew a little lighter, not clipped, but more contemplative. I thought, not for the first time, and definitely not the last, if I would ever actually get through this. Would I really ever be the same as... before? I thought of Bella's horrified face when I hadn't remembered her.

Yes, yes I would. I would remember not only for my angel, but for my self. I could do this, couldn't I? Here I was I fucking composing... well something, I'm not exactly sure if you could call this banging around music, and I didn't think I could get my darn memories back? I would just have to do my best. My hands stopped abruptly. I just felt as if I couldn't go on. No, not in that melodramatic way, but simply that I had no more to think about.

I stood up from the bench, and walked around. I noticed there was a sandwich, some fruit, and a drink on a tray on the ground. Esme must have brought it. I hadn't even heard her come in. I picked up the juice and gulped it down; I was thirsty. I looked at the clock. It was already 4 o'clock...

A/N: doncha just love alice? i know i do. i hope describation of edward and piano was adequate enough, and believable, since i have no idea how to play the piano.. BUT I CAN PLAY THE VIOLIN, so i'm not totally out in over my head. sooo REVIEW!!! .... REVIEW!!!!............REVIEW!!!! ... come on! for edward!! if you review i might help him along faster!! (yes that was a bribe)

~-~pdah~-~