Chapter 9 Erratic

Human thought is like a monstrous pendulum; it keeps swinging from one extreme to the other.

~Eugene Field

I was scouring the woods, searching, searching, calling out. "Charlie? Charlie?" I heard a light breath beside me and turned. Edward was running alongside me, calling for Charlie as well. We flew through the trees together, side by side, combing the forest for my father, ranging out with our senses for his voice, for the scent of gun oil and fishing gear. Jays squawked overhead, and two squirrels chattered angrily at each other. I sniffed hopefully at some lingering trace in the air and started to follow it. Edward called me away from the trail I'd picked up, claiming he'd heard Charlie answering back…

And I was awake, sitting up quickly in bed, scanning the room that looked pale grey in the predawn light from the window.

"Bella?" Edward said tentatively, sitting up beside me, one stone arm pulling across my back. "Are you alright? How do you feel?"

I leaned into the hollow under his arm and took a minute to examine myself. How did I feel?

"Better, I guess." A familiar pinch tugged at me. "I have another cramp." I lay back down, shut my eyes, and arched my back, trying to stretch the cramp away. My blankets were twisted around my legs. I had slept in my clothes from the previous day, and I felt my shirt riding up my stomach as I stretched.

Edward's breath caught. My eyes flashed up to him. He blinked a couple of times and shook his head.

"What?" I wondered.

"It's nothing," he said. "Did you sleep well?"

"Okay, I guess." I stretched again and watched his face. His lips parted the tiniest bit. Hmm. "I'm still a little tired. I can't believe I woke up so early."

I checked my watch.

6:24 A.M.

Thursday

April 1

April Fool's Day.

This was going to be so much fun.

With a boldness that took me by surprise, I looked up at him, spread my arms across the bed, bit my lip, and arched my back so much there was a good six inches of air between my torso and the mattress. My shirt slid even further up, exposing a few ribs. "Mmmm," I murmured huskily.

He exhaled slowly and closed his eyes.

"There," I said demurely after enjoying his expression for several seconds. "All better."

Edward cleared his throat unnecessarily, eyes still closed. "So you didn't have any nightmares?"

I fell back to the bed with a soft thump; my mouth popped open in surprise. He was right. I hadn't dreamt about the hospital at all.

"No," I whispered, awed. "I didn't. It was just…a dream." I stared up at the ceiling and pondered that.

Edward lay back down and rested his head carefully on my shoulder. He laid a cold arm across my stomach as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "Do you want to tell me about it?" he asked quietly.

"Didn't I say anything?" I asked, still wondering at this new mystery.

"You said your father's name a few times," he admitted. "And mine. It was nice to hear."

"Hmm." That seemed to match what I remembered. "It was like my forest dream, but instead of looking for you alone, you and I were looking for Charlie together. It wasn't a good dream, but it wasn't a nightmare."

"That's an improvement," Edward commented peacefully. We lay quietly together, just breathing, for a few more minutes. "Did you fall asleep?" he whispered.

"No, I was just thinking about the dream. It was so odd. We were running, but not the way you and I usually run. You weren't carrying me; we were running together. Everything you could do, I could do just as well."

Edward stayed very still.

"Does that upset you?" I asked timidly.

After a short pause, he answered, "I'm not sure."

Instantly my mind raced with new possibilities. Could Edward be reconsidering his long-held conviction against my being changed? I hadn't allowed myself to think about it in months, not since the day he left, but his sudden, subtle shift in attitude gave rise to new hope.

Hope that he immediately quelled. "It was merely a dream," he reminded me.

Yes, it was.

I closed my eyes and pushed away the strange lump that had suddenly formed in my throat. Focusing on my breathing, I redirected my thoughts to something else, anything else.

"So what do I usually say when I'm having a nightmare?" My voice sounded a little strangled, but that was in keeping with my question. "You never told me."

Attuned as he was to my changes in mood, Edward raised his head to look at me. I deliberately blurred my vision, not allowing myself to focus on the ocher eyes that searched my face. The action of it was uncomfortable, but I persevered. Hopefully he would think I was only trying not to be upset about my nightmares.

"Bella?" he said, suddenly worried. "Bella!" He shook my shoulder a little. My focus returned to him.

"What? What is it?" Why was he acting this way? "Edward, what's wrong?"

Strangely enough, he buried his face in my neck and exhaled in relief. "You scared me," he mumbled into my throat. "I thought you were…" He didn't finish.

I rolled my eyes. "And you say I'm prone to overreaction." He sighed again and brushed his fingers across my cheekbone. "So are you going to answer my question?" I pressed.

Edward lifted his head and stared into my eyes, evaluating me. I stared right back, trying to understand what he was looking for. "You mostly cry," he said sadly. "You say 'no' and 'please stop' quite often, and sometimes 'doctor.' Usually you sound like you're in pain."

I closed my eyes again. I had been frightening him, paining him every night without even realizing it. "I'm sorry, Edward," I whispered. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"Bella," he said crossly, "if there's anything you have no business apologizing for, it's that. I'm just relieved you had one night of comparative peace."

"Yeah," I replied. "Me too." And I really was.

We were mostly alone together for four full days. As promised, Esme had stocked the third floor bathroom with everything I needed, including flushable products, five gallons of bleach, six bottles of alcohol, wooden kitchen matches, and a metal bucket for burning anything that couldn't be washed or flushed. I showered twice a day, cleaned the bathroom often, kept most of the windows open, ran the washing machine as many times as was necessary, and insisted that Edward hunt at least once for a few hours on Saturday morning while his father stayed with me. The whole thing was a headache, but I didn't complain. Edward and I were together, and I could endure a few days inconvenience for that.

I had no more nightmares, only dreams of Edward, Charlie, or occasionally Renee. Edward was overjoyed by this development and even called Jasper to convey the news. I wished Jasper had been more upfront with me about whatever it was he felt I needed to say to Charlie, but I couldn't deny that the resentment issues were there. I still felt guilty about what I'd said to my father, how irrational I'd been when I knew better, but there was nothing I could do about it until it was time to call him again. I tried not to let Edward see how much it bothered me when we talked about it. We agreed that I would wait for Jasper to come home so he could help me apologize and maintain my charade, and this time Jasper was going to help me the way I needed him to.

Carlisle was out of the house often, working long shifts at the hospital. He asked me every morning how I was feeling, whether I was uncomfortable at all, if I felt sick. His concern was touching and endearing, but I assured him that other than being a little tired, something that generally happened to me at this time, I felt completely normal.

The afternoon of Monday, April 5th, the rest of the family (minus the perpetually busy Carlisle) came home. Alice and Esme rushed to me for hugs, which I returned enthusiastically; I'd really missed them. Jasper smiled at me hesitantly from across the room but did not come near, and I wondered if being away from me for so long meant he needed time to desensitize to my scent again before we'd be able to resume closer contact. I certainly didn't want to put too much temptation before him by forcing him to stand with his hand on my shoulder if he wasn't ready to deal with that yet. Looking at him, I found that I didn't really need his verbal apology for what had passed before. I could feel it, even at a distance. So I grinned back, just a little, and knew he'd understand.

Rosalie gave me a slight smile and a quick hello, then went upstairs to her room to shower and change—everyone usually did this after hunting to wash away the scent of their kills. Emmett smirked, wiggled his eyebrows at me, and flashed up the staircase after her. Everyone, including me, groaned collectively. I would have to wait until much later before I could call Charlie; there was no way I could concentrate with those two yowling in the background.


Rose and Emmett emerged from upstairs after my dinner, looking extremely pleased with each other. Edward and I exchanged smirks, grateful that the noise was over. Jasper, sensitive as ever, declared a wish to be "anywhere but here," and went out for a run with Alice, promising to help me with my phone call when he returned. I leaned against Edward on the couch, watching some random cooking show that promised simple, one-pan recipes. The chicken recipe looked incredibly boring, but the steak seemed like it might be interesting if I served it medium rare. Edward looked at me like I was a stranger when I said this, but I just shrugged.

Emmett, apparently in good humor after his little tryst, decided to tease me. "So Bella, are you up for a wrestling match? I'll tie both hands and one leg behind my back."

"No thanks, Emmett," I replied idly, craning my neck around his giant, imposing form. "I'd just as soon not be ground into dust by an ox."

He roared with laughter, then reached down with one enormous arm to mess with my hair. "Don't worry, little one, I won't hurt you."

Don't worry, little one, he'll get tired of you.

I blinked. There was a click.

I was shaking violently, pressed against the wall, reaching for the door. Voices were all around me, panicked, pale faces. Someone was shrieking, snarling weakly.

It was me.

My hand found the doorknob at last. I twisted it and rushed through the doorway, adrenaline coursing through me as I followed my only thought: run!

I almost made it to the steps before the strong arms caught me and clamped down. My body reacted automatically, twisting and contorting, bucking against the restraint, my strange hisses and cries erupting every few seconds. The arms only constricted more tightly across my chest, pinning my arms to my sides, so I used my legs to struggle and kick, to lock around the porch railing. The arms juggled me around until I was completely unable to move, and I knew I'd lost. The adrenaline faded, and I saw only blinding white.

The derivative of x^2 + x is 2x + 1. The derivative of 2x^2 + 2x is 4x + 2. The derivative of 3x^2 + 3x is 6x + 3. The derivative of 4x^2 + 4x is 8x + 4.

A muscular, blonde, blue-eyed man threw me onto a tiny bed in a white room.

Don't worry, little one, he'll get tired of you. He'll be just as bored with you as he is with all the others. And then I'll make you forget that boy's name.

A rough, sandpapery hand slapped me hard across the cheek.

And I was howling in sheer blind terror, struggling with all my might to break free, screeching in fierce pain and horror, caught between the desire to escape and the instinct to claw out the eyes of whoever was clutching at my wrists…

"Bella!"

It was almost a roar, but the voice was just familiar enough to make me snap to my true surroundings. My shrieks ceased suddenly as I blinked and scanned the room.

Iron arches. Gold walls. Shelves to my left, sofa to my right. From behind me and to the left, an arm with the strength of titanium wrapped across my chest, while another restrained my hands as carefully as possible. The arms were connected to the desperate velvet voice muttering in my ear, the voice that had just yelled my name. A large group of people—no, vampires—were scattered around the room, whispering urgently. Six of them, not four.

The two blonde males hovered nearby, looking anxious and concerned, but they were pale, not tan, golden-eyed and familiar as my eyes cleared. I already knew they could be trusted, as could the small, dark-haired female and the taller, round-faced female speaking in soothing tones.

I zeroed in on the largest male standing near the door. He had the same large build as the man who'd hit me, but his hair was dark and curly, and his expression was worried and slightly apologetic, not violent or malicious.

Then my eyes landed on the blonde female hanging back in the doorway, the only visible exit. She seemed confused, upset, and not unkind. But her eyes glittered angrily when she locked on mine, and my fight or flight reflex landed on fight.

My eyes narrowed, the hair on the back of my neck stood up, and my hands attempted to curl into claws. I felt my muscles coil up and my spine try to arch in a strange way, but the stone arms held me tighter. A strange hiss began to build in my chest, and I recognized Edward snarling at the same time.

"Rosalie!" Jasper hissed. A sudden wave of lethargy hit me, and I drooped lazily back onto the bed, my hiss vanishing before it could reach my throat. Edward's arms relaxed and released my wrists. I felt a little sore, but I didn't care much about it. Rosalie almost seemed to stagger before Emmett took her hand and escorted her from the room. Although I couldn't make myself care much about that either, Edward seemed to care a great deal. He was hissing about something, anyway, before he turned his undivided attention back to me.

I whimpered quietly for a moment. Edward kissed my temple and carefully unraveled his arms from around me, pulling the tangles of hair away from my face instead. "Bella? Can you speak?"

I couldn't do more than shake my head slightly and sigh.

Carlisle leaned over me to check my pulse. "What happened to her, Jasper?"

"She was terrified and repulsed at first. It was different than the way she usually feels at the end of a nightmare. More…dread. Revulsion. And she didn't just want to run; she wanted to defend herself." Carlisle seemed to be examining my wrists for something as his son spoke.

Jasper's eyes grew hard. "Then Rosalie let her hostility show, and Bella picked up on it right away." He snickered mirthlessly, and I thought I saw Esme dart out of the room with an irate expression on her face. "Bella, you really should stop trying to confront every vampire who looks at you the wrong way. It's not good for your health."

I nodded weakly, closing my eyes. I didn't want to pay attention anymore.

"What's wrong with her?" Alice whispered.

"From what Edward told me," Jasper replied quietly, "it sounds like something Emmett said must have set her off. And now this…I believe we're dealing with another repressed memory."

"She seemed to be talking about someone new in her sleep," Edward murmured.

"Boys," Carlisle warned, his hands gingerly pressing my rib cage, "I know you're curious, but please give her a little more time before you question her. I'm concerned about…" he said the rest too low for me to understand, but I was too sleepy to wonder. Their voices faded away into the black behind my eyes.


I awoke from dreamless sleep lying on my left side, facing the wall of shelves. Rare sunlight was streaming through the window. Rainbows danced across the walls and ceiling. Edward's arms were not around me, but I felt him behind me, his familiar, long fingers tracing gentle patterns on my right arm.

I moved my left arm up a little and twisted it to check my watch.

2:34 P.M.

Wednesday

April 7

Two days since everyone came home.

My wrists were sore, but not discolored. I'd been sleeping for several hours, it felt like, but I couldn't remember why, or what had happened before.

I rolled over to face Edward, and found that my chest ached. I groaned slightly.

"Edward?"

He pulled his hand back to his side and scrutinized my face. "How are you feeling?"

I reached over carefully and took his hand into mine. "Sore. Edward, what happened?"

He sighed. "How far back do you need me to go?"

I took a moment to process that. "I can't remember anything after…Monday afternoon," I whispered. Food Network…steak…

"One minute Emmett was teasing you," Edward began, "and suddenly you were swearing and snarling at him and running for the door. It was just like the first time, only you were slightly slower and fought differently." He paused, obviously ashamed of something. "I'm sorry, Bella. I tried not to hurt you, but you were jerking against me too hard. Your arms and chest are badly bruised, but Carlisle says no bones are broken."

I stretched each of my limbs in turn and discovered he was right. My legs didn't hurt, though, which was good news to me. "What happened after that?" I asked.

He looked down at the space between us. "You stayed in our room all that night and all day yesterday, and you only got up to use the restroom and let Carlisle x-ray you. You wouldn't speak, you wouldn't look at anyone, you barely ate anything at all; you just sat on the bed and stared out the window."

This surprised me. I'd been able to function through the haze when I lived with Charlie. Life on autopilot. This information made no sense to me.

"What else?"

He shut his eyes as though trying not to see something horrifying. "You really don't remember this morning?"

I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate. It was like swimming through tree sap. "You yelled at me."

"Yes," he said quietly. "I was trying to wake you up."

"Before that, someone hit me." My face didn't hurt, but the slap echoed across my skin, like a reverberating drum.

Edward's voice was alarmed. "I would never! That must have been part of your dream."

"And I wanted to…fight…Rosalie?" This memory was wrong on so many levels. "Why would I want to do that?"

Low growls rumbled from Edward's chest through the mattress, and my eyes flew open. "Believe me; I nearly went for her throat myself."

Astonished, I gasped out, "Why?"

Edward looked toward the doorway. "Jasper was right," he said, making no attempt at modulating the volume of his voice. "She should not have returned."

"Shhhh!" I hissed at him. That was supposed to be a secret. "She'll hear you! Are you trying to start a family feud?"

He looked at me incredulously. "You care what she thinks right now?"

"Of course I do!" I growled at him, suddenly outraged. "She's your sister. She and Emmett are family. No stupid grudge is worth jeopardizing that, Edward. I refuse to be the thing that tears you all apart. Whatever happened, it was an accident. It wasn't her fault I had a nightmare and lost all sense of reason." With that, I threw the heavy blankets off me and crawled angrily to the foot of the bed, ignoring the pain as I went.

"Where do you think you're going?" Edward demanded, instantly standing in front of me.

"To talk to Rosalie," I said stubbornly.

"No, you most certainly are not!" Edward argued hotly. "Just stay away from her until I say otherwise."

"This is ridiculous, Edward," I shot back. I threw back my head and yelled. "Rosalie! I'm sorry! I'm sorry I ruined everything for you. I'm sorry—"

Edward covered my mouth gently but firmly with one hand. "Stop it, Bella. It won't do any good. She's so wrapped up in her own bitter existence she can't fathom that anyone besides herself might be suffering."

I twisted my face away from his hand. "I have to try. I won't cause your family more pain, Edward. It's not right."

"This is not your decision, Bella. It's hers." He looked toward the doorway and raised his voice again. "She can decide right now what's more important to her: herself, or our family. All of our family."

I stopped suddenly and peered at Edward. His head was still turned toward the doorway, eyes angry. My indignation evaporated as suddenly as a drop of water on a white-hot poker.

I wasn't just his girlfriend.

I wasn't something he loved separately from his parents and siblings.

I was part of his family. He saw me as part of his family. This was not the same as Alice or Esme telling me I was their sister or daughter. This was Edward telling me I belonged with them.

I flung my arms around his neck with total abandon and both kissed and cried into his shoulder.

Edward, for his part, was completely dumbfounded by my sudden shift in mood. "Where did this come from?" he said as he pulled his arms around my waist. "What are you crying about?"

I laughed and was surprised to find happy tears raining down my face. "You're the only man I know who can take me from fury to euphoria in the space of three seconds without altering my body chemistry."

"You are a strange girl, Bella," he said, and kissed my nose. "You've definitely covered a wide range of emotions today. Are you certain you're feeling well?"

"I suppose I am strange," I murmured, not answering his question. "I'm never going to be normal, am I?"

"Nor would I wish you to be," he whispered.

My stomach chose that moment to growl loudly at us. "Why don't you take a minute to be human while I get you something to eat?" he suggested. I nodded happily, picked out some clean clothes from the closet, and traipsed off to the bathroom.

Twenty minutes later I was seated at the dining room table, damp-haired and refreshed, quietly anticipating whatever Edward had in store for me. It was just a hot sandwich, some chips, and a glass of lemonade, but it was nice to let someone else fix lunch, and he seemed proud of himself.

All through my meal Edward stared at me protectively, one hand resting on my left arm. I chewed thoughtfully, allowing myself to remember the events of the morning. I had no idea I was even capable of such a violent reaction, but there it was, staring me in the face. There had not even been a conscious thought to it; my body perceived the threat and reacted instinctively. Not at all like that time in Port Angeles…

Port Angeles.

Those men. They wanted to—he wanted to…

I blinked.

I was standing in the kitchen, snarling again, knees bent, leaning slightly forward, seeing someone else.

"Put it down, Bella. You'll hurt yourself."

I glanced down at my fist, curled around something. It was a serrated kitchen knife.

"Bella? Can you hear me? Please, love. I don't want to take it from you. Just put it down on the counter behind you."

I focused on the white face speaking so calmly to me.

"Please, my love. Put the knife down."

The angel.

Slowly, I reached behind me and gingerly laid the knife down on the granite surface. I took two careful steps forward, examining this glorious creature with gold-rimmed eyes. He spread his arms invitingly.

"I love you, Bella."

Edward.

I rushed into his arms, crushing myself to his stone body and sobbing violently. Edward held me close, shushing me, promising that I was in a safe place. My body shook so hard I was no longer able to stand on my own, so Edward scooped me up and carried me to the living room sofa. I stayed curled up against his chest as he lay back against the armrest and stroked my hair. Esme had a blanket ready and tucked it around me, asking Edward if she should call Carlisle to come home from work. Alice and Jasper leaned over the back of the couch, their faces anxious. Jasper started to reach for my shoulder, but Alice pulled his hand back and shook her head.

I felt a familiar churning in my stomach, and Alice picked me up and whisked me to the downstairs powder room. The acrid scent of stomach acid, sugar, lemons, and ham filled my nose as I retched over and over. Alice held my hair back from my face and lightly pressed her freezing fingers to the nape of my neck, whispering words of comfort. I slumped over after a final dry heave, and someone's white hand thrust in the door with my toothbrush and toothpaste. Alice supported my weight while I cleansed the sour stench from my mouth and washed my face.

I happened to see my reflection in the small vanity mirror. The girl there looked somewhat familiar, but ashen, gaunt, and worn down, her tears dripping silently like candle wax. She'd been through too much for her years; she was changing into a different creature every second. I did not want to look at her again.

Edward met us outside the bathroom door, swaddled the blanket around me again, and carried me gently back up the stairs at a human pace. We passed Emmett and Rosalie on the way. Rosalie, I noted, looked concerned, something I had not anticipated. Edward did not appear to acknowledge her at all, but I knew he could hear her thoughts.

Edward laid me down carefully on the edge of my bed and kneeled beside me, his head so close to mine. His entire face was contorted in agony and grief, and I wondered if he was seeing the strange girl I'd seen in the mirror. My eyes stung with a fresh wave of moisture; it hurt so much to see him look at me that way.

Voices in the room distracted me. I raised my head to see who'd come. My eyes slid past Jasper, past Alice and Esme, past even Rosalie, and landed on the advancing figure wearing a white coat.

I blinked.

I was sitting up, back ramrod straight, right arm extended with my palm up, hand cupped expectantly.

"Bella? What is it? What do you want?" he asked.

I blinked at him—I did not understand the question. Since when was I allowed to choose?

Oh. He must not be using pills today. I lifted my arm higher and pushed my sleeve up, exposing the veins in the crook of my elbow. My tracks were still there, though they seemed to be healing. My fist clenched automatically. I waited.

"I'll be good," I promised.

He did not move. He did not call for anyone.

I sighed and blurred my eyes against the contrasting colors around me. It was going to be one of those nights. I hoped he would be satisfied with a minimum of slaps.

Two squared is four. Three squared is nine. Four squared is sixteen. Five squared is twenty-five. Six squared is—

"Bella, stop it!"

My eyes widened in shock. Edward, still crouched next to the bed, shook my shoulders, rattling me. His eyes were fierce, desperate. He placed a frigid hand on my face. "Please, Bella. Please. Don't go numb again. I can't bear it."

I smiled weakly at his angel face, sparkling as a cloud moved away from the sun. He was just so beautiful. "Okay," I muttered. I started to cry again, he looked so beaten. He moaned pitifully and buried his face in my lap. I ran my fingers through his hair, hoping to comfort my sobbing angel.

"What do we do?" Esme asked urgently.

"I don't know," Carlisle answered. He suddenly sounded like a very old man.

"Jasper," Alice whispered. "Help her now. She'll just deteriorate if you don't."

Jasper looked down at me, and I was better than calm. I was completely at peace. Slowly I lowered myself back to the pillow, the one that smelled so strongly of Edward, and closed my eyes.