Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. Unless you've been living under a rock for the past few years, you know that Stephenie Meyer does.
At least when I woke up from that Dream, I was fairly calm. I opened my eyes, and saw a white ceiling above me, and seven white, horrified faces staring down at me, all paler than the normal pale. Edward's face was the closest, as he was holding me like he was afraid I would be taken from him at any moment. His eyes held more pain than horror – he had seen this before. Unlike the rest of his family, who'd had no idea how freakish I was before now. I grimaced – talk about a bad first impression.
But my grimace kicked Edward's overprotective side into overdrive. "Bella? Are you all right? Is another Dream coming?"
"No." I cut him off before he could really get started. "I'm fine." I sat up with difficulty, because Edward never let go of me. His family watched me with wary and fearful eyes. I sighed, and gestured to them. "Please tell me you explained," I begged, rubbing my eyes. It was a good thing I'd gotten some sleep last night, because otherwise I would have had to be hospitalized or something.
Edward nodded tensely. "But they're having trouble believing me." Rosalie muttered something that sounded like "Of course we are," and Edward shot her a dark look.
But now I was mad. I was so freaking tired of everyone looking at me like I was insane. And they were vampires! What right did they have to judge what was possible and what wasn't? I Jerked free of Edward's arms and jumped to my feet. I was trembling and crying, but was too angry to care. "Do you want me to prove it to you, Rosalie?" I whispered. "Think carefully about your answer, because you don't know what I may have seen about you. If you want me to tell you, then ask, but be prepared for an answer that you may not like. Ask Edward about that – he knows." I stared into Rosalie's eyes, staring her down, and she must have seen something in my eyes, because her eyes widened, and she took half a step back. She didn't ask. I nodded slowly. "Good choice," I murmured. Edward came forward and put his arms around me again. I smiled up at him, grateful for the support. "You're better off taking my word for it." I looked at Car lisle, and decided that I might as well erase all doubt, and since the Dream I'd had with him in it wasn't really incriminating..... "You were in Italy – Volterra." I told him. "In the turret where the Volturi brings their food. It was..... I don't know, maybe 1701. There was a girl, about sixteen years old, with blond hair and brown eyes. She was screaming in German." Carlisle's eyes tightened. "You remember her," I guessed. "You looked right at her. She was one of the last ones left, and she saw that you were sickened, that you weren't killing. She tried to run for you." I shivered. "She didn't make it."
Carlisle met my eyes for a long moment, then he nodded. "I believe you," he said quietly.
There was an awkward silence for a few seconds, then Alice edged up to me and wrapped slender arm around my waist. "I see the future," she pointed out. "Who am I to say that you can't see the past? I believe you." Esme nodded in agreement. I looked around, at the rest of the Cullens.
Emmett looked convinced, and when I met his eyes, he raised his hands in surrender. "I'm convinced," he promised dryly. "You don't need to dredge up my past." I smiled involuntarily, and moved on to Jasper.
Jasper. The one I was the most confused about. Emmett was readable, Carlisle and Esme were open books, and I had Dreamed of Alice and Rosalie, but Jasper..... he was a mystery. How had he made the jump from a Southern general to a vampire who refused to hunt humans? Obviously, Alice had found him, but I didn't have the details of what had happened in between. Jasper met my gaze steadily, and I didn't try to stare him down like I had Rosalie. Jasper would not be intimidated. He met my eyes and nodded once. "I felt what you felt as you Dreamed," he told me in his deep, calm voice. "And I could tell that what you felt was not from you."
I frowned – he felt what I felt? – and Carlisle suggested, "Why don't we go downstairs? I'm sure you have questions, and I know I do."
We all laughed, and followed Carlisle down a curving staircase and into a large, bright family room. I looked around, since the last time I'd come through here I'd been unconscious. There were five small, white couches arranged in a half circle on the white carpet, and on a raised platform in one corner of the room was a spectacular piano. Along one wall was a row of computers, all very expensive-looking. The back wall was made entirely out of glass, and showed a view of a river winding through the forest. We all sat down on the couches – which were really comfortable – and Carlisle began asking questions. "So, Bella," he started, looking at me with curious eyes, "how long have you had these Dreams?"
I shrugged and leaned against Edward, who was sitting beside me. "The earliest one I can remember was when I was three, but my mom said that almost from the day I was born, I would cry and toss and turn in my sleep."
Carlisle leaned forward animatedly, and I saw Esme roll her eyes indulgently. "He's a scholar by nature," she explained lovingly.
I grinned. "I don't mind. It's actually kind of nice to be able to talk about it to someone who doesn't want to lock me in a padded cell." I turned back to Carlisle, expecting another question.
I was not disappointed. "Why do you Dream?" he inquired.
I laughed once. "I have no idea. There's not an instruction manual. We just have to guess about everything. I'll tell you right now, most of the answers I give you will be theories."
Carlisle nodded. "That is perfectly acceptable. I am not entirely sure about a few things about my kind, either. I, too, must sometimes go on my theories. But I noticed that you said 'we'. Are there other Dreamers that you know of?"
"Yes – several women in my family had Dreams," I responded.
Carlisle smiled. "Only the women?"
I smirked. "Of course," I replied smugly, and Edward and Emmett chuckled.
"You never did tell me – why do you think you Dream?" Carlisle repeated his earlier question.
I sighed. "This is where the details get hazy," I warned. "The different Dreamers have different theories, but the most popular one is because the stories need to be told to someone. There is so much pain out there – the stories need to share the burden with someone, and we just so happen to be those people."
Carlisle nodded, his eyes far away, and I wondered if he was developing his own ideas on the topic. I would have to ask him about it later. But he could not be distracted for long. "Do you often pass out and Dream like that?" he asked.
I grimaced at the memory and shook my head. "No, or I would have never been able to keep the Dreams a secret for as long as I have. That happened so ...... abruptly, because the Dream was so strong."
"Do Dreams have different strengths?" Alice cut in. I jumped a little – I had been so absorbed in my conversation with Carlisle that I had forgotten the others were there, listening intently.
Now I turned to her and answered, "Yes, some are stronger than others."
Esme pulled my attention in another direction. "Why?"
Their rapid-fire questions left me feeling a little overwhelmed. "It depends. There are several different factors: how long ago the story happened, how bad the story is, how many people know the story, things like that." I shook my head, trying to clear my jumbled thoughts. "I'll have to give you the journals," I mused.
"Journals?" Edward asked.
I looked back at him and smiled. "Yeah, journals. For about three hundred years, every woman in my family who Dreamed wrote in a journal – their different theories, their observations, stuff like that. I'll have to bring them, so you can read about Dreaming through the ages." I grinned. "You'll probably notice all sorts of things I missed."
Edward looked interested, as did Carlisle, and Alice, and the rest of the Cullens. Even Rosalie, who had before listened impassively, looked curious. "Do you have one that you write in?" Edward asked.
I laughed. "Of course! What kind of Dreamer would I be if I didn't keep a journal? They're all in my room."
Carlisle cleared his throat, signaling that he had another question. I looked at him, and saw that his expression was grave. "Bella," he began, "What you experience – they are dreams, correct?" I nodded cautiously. Carlisle continued, "Then I wondered – when you Dreamed today, you appeared to have convulsions of some kind. I wondered why your body reacts so strongly to the Dreams, if they are, if fact, only dreams?"
Edward had gone very still against me. I guessed he didn't like remembering. I tried to answer Carlisle as best I could. "They are dreams, in my mind, but they are very real. My mind..... it doesn't really belong to me anymore. I feel exactly what the person I Dream of felt; I remember the pain. And it is so real, in my mind, that my body reacts. It's like....." I searched for an apt description. "It's like Jane's power, in a way." All the Cullens looked startled that I would bring up Aro's favorite member of the Volturi guard. "You know how it works – Jane makes you think you're in pain, so you think you feel it, and you scream, and thrash. My Dreams are a lot like that. I feel the pain, but my body isn't actually harmed."
But speaking of the Dream I'd just had...... should I tell Alice? Unless she had remembered more about herself, she still had no idea what had happened to her. Should I tell her? Should I keep her in the dark for her own sake? She had seen the Dream, had seen, indirectly, how much she had suffered. Was it right for me to do that to her? I would have to think about it.
To distract myself, I asked, "Do you have anymore questions, or can I ask some now?"
Carlisle laughed. "My curiosity is appeased – for now. What do you want to know?"
I smiled, and turned to look at Jasper. "You said you felt what I felt," I stated.
Jasper smiled. "Yes. I am able to sense and influence the emotions of those around me."
I blinked. "Oh." So that was how he'd managed to keep such a large group of newborns under control! "Are there any other abilities that I should know about?" I asked.
Alice laughed, a high soprano tinkling. "Just me and Edward. I see the future."
"And I read minds," Edward finished, looking down at me like he was afraid of my reaction. And I guess he had a good reason to be worried, because immediately, every detail about every thing I didn't want him to know filled my mind, and the blood drained from my face. My forehead wrinkled as I tried desperately to think of something else. All of the Cullens laughed at me. "But don't worry," Edward hastened to add. "I can't read yours." Relief washed over me. The things that could get us both killed were still safely locked away inside my head.
"I wonder why," I murmured. Not that I cared a whole lot – I was just thankful that I was an exception.
Edward didn't seem to share my opinion. "I don't know," he said, frustrated. I couldn't help but laugh, and Alice laughed with me. Our eyes met, and I suddenly made my choice. I would ask her if she wanted to know about her past, and, if she did, I would tell her. It was her life, her choice. But I could not tell her here. I needed to get her alone. But how was I supposed to bring that up?
Luckily, I didn't have to. Alice's eyes suddenly glazed over for a moment, then she focused on me, her eyes wide. "Alice?" Jasper and Edward asked simultaneously. Jasper leaned over his mate protectively. "What's wrong?" he asked.
Alice didn't answer. Instead, she stood and walked over to me, grabbed my hand, and towed me toward the front door. "Alice?" Carlisle asked, curiously.
Alice never looked back. "I need to talk to Bella. Alone."
As soon as we were outside, she picked me up and started running south. I was used to the speed from my Dreams about vampires, so I wasn't afraid. After a few minutes, when we were far enough away that her family couldn't hear our conversation, and Edward couldn't hear her thoughts, she stopped and put me down. I looked around me. We were deep in the forest, judging by the size of the trees, and Alice was already siting on a tree that had fallen over and formed a natural bench. I sat beside her. "I want to know," she said, before I could even open my mouth.
"Are you sure?" I asked, "It..... it's not good." Alice nodded, her face excited, despite my warning. But I wanted her to have an idea of just how bad it was, so she could be absolutely certain. "The Dream I had today..... it was about you."
Alice's smile faltered. She took a deep breath. "I still want to know. I need to know. Please."
I nodded, leaned back against the tree, and closed my eyes. "Okay," I whispered. My voice never rose in volume. "Your name is Mary Alice Brandon. Everyone called you Alice because you're named after your grandmother, and they didn't want to get the two of you confused. You were born on December eleventh, 1901. You had a little sister named Cynthia who was three years younger than you."
Slowly, haltingly, crying in places, I told her the story of her life, how her parents had loved her very much, but hadn't known what else to do when they'd realized that their daughter saw visions of the future. I told her about the shock treatments, about the gradual memory loss that the treatments had caused. I told her about the vampire doctor who I thought had been the one to save her. I told her everything up to the point when she woke up in the forest and saw visions of Jasper and the Cullens, when she could remember on her own.
She didn't say anything for a long moment, and I opened my eyes to see her expression. She had her face in her hands. Automatically, I reached out to touch her shoulder, but hesitated. What if she blamed me for taking away the ignorance that had protected her? What if she hated me for seeing this, for experiencing her own private horrors? But Alice slowly raised her head, and looked me in he eye. "Thank you," she said softly. I stared at her with the doubt and regret I felt on my face, and she shook her head. "No. I needed to know. I'm not happy about what happened, but I'm...... it's better than not knowing. I have closure. I'm glad you told me." She hugged me tightly, and I hugged her back, tears welling up in my eyes.
"I'm so sorry," I whispered. She had no idea how sorry I was.
Alice pulled back and lifted me in her arms again. She started running back to her house. "Don't be! I never would have found out if it wasn't for you."
I spent the rest of the afternoon at the Cullens' house, answering and asking questions, feeling more at home than I had in a long time, then got home just in time to make dinner for Charlie. I showered and went into my room, apprehension making me slow. I stared warily, fearfully, at my bed. Would sleep bring me peace, or would it force yet another death upon me, another thing I didn't want to see? As I stared, not moving, there was a flash of movement outside my bedroom window. I jumped and spun to face it, and saw that Edward was standing in my room. I almost had a heart attack, then, when I had gotten over the shock, ran into his arms. His embrace was cool, comforting, exactly what I needed. I snuggled as close to him as I could. "I'm scared," I confessed in a whispered against his chest.
His arms held me tighter. "I'll be here," he murmured, and his promise made me calm enough to get into bed and go to sleep with his strong, protecting arms around me. Again, whether by coincidence or because Edward's presence kept the Dreams away, I slept peacefully.
