Warning: Mentions of sexual abuse in this chapter (What? You knew it was coming).

EPOV

I'd hoped my nerves wouldn't betray when I walked into Bella's room. I prayed that she would understand that I wasn't going anywhere, and that there was literally nothing she could tell me that would change my mind—well, barring murder, though I highly doubted Bella's sordid past included homicide.

When I left her room I felt like my insides were ready to jump out. I was mentally exhausted from the emotional toll of the day, but physically I was ready to burst. My heart felt like it was hammering out of chest, and my stomach was twisted up in knots that just would not ease. I only hoped that despite my obvious nerves, Bella would believe my devotion and accept it. I badly wanted to give it to her.

I retreated to my bedroom, but left my door slightly ajar in hopes that Bella would have some moment of clarity and decide to come down and talk to me. I had little hope that that would actually happen, but I didn't want a closed door to deter her if she decided to take that small step.

It wasn't really that I felt like I had to know what happened to Bella, it was more so that I didn't know how to move further with her without knowing. I, by nature, was not a nosey person and never had been. I was perfectly happy to let people keep their business theirs, and not bore me with the intimate details of their lives. But this secret, whatever it was, seemed like a mountain standing in between me and the beautiful, wonderful woman I knew Bella was inside. It was one massive insecurity that kept the best part of her from me. I hated that mountain, and I believed that if I knew her secret, I could help her get past it. I wanted to do that for her, but also, perhaps selfishly, for us—what we could be.

The hours ticked by at a snail's pace as I waited impatiently for Bella to decide to come talk to me, but she never did. Around 1AM I gave up entirely and decided to try to sleep, but I had the hardest time drifting off. My mind was replaying everything that had happened in the past several days over and over, and, to make matters worse, all I could hear was Rosalie and Emmett fucking loudly across the hall.

I assumed they had to finish up eventually, but there was just no stopping them. After an hour of barely concealed moans, I gave up on trying to sleep. I felt oddly dirty staying in my room where I could hear them, especially considering their activities only served as a reminder of what I was most like not going to get in the near future, so I decided to head upstairs for a midnight snack, hoping some warm milk might help lull me to the dreamless sleep I wanted so badly.

As I climbed the stairs, the sounds of Emmett and Rose became more and more muted, much to my delight. When I reached the landing, I did a cursory survey of the living area before heading into the unlit kitchen. I flicked on the light and made my way to the fridge, my attention solely on the task at hand. I startled when I heard a voice from behind me.

"You're up late." I jumped and swivelled quickly, finding a pajama-clad Bella looking up at me from the table, her hands resting around a large cup. "There's tea on, if you want some." I stood there in a daze briefly, just looking at her looking at me. Her hair was a tangled mess, and it was tucked behind one ear while the other side hung in front of her face. Her eyes were lined with bluish-tinted bags, and although her face was completely unmarred by wrinkles, she looked older, haggard. It was maddening to see such an ethereal beauty look so tired and sad. I wanted to take all of her pain and harbour it for her, but I couldn't. Whatever scars she bore would not be shared with me until Bella decided they could be.

Rather than say all of this, I just turned away once more to fix myself a cup of tea. I could feel her scrutinizing me as I faced away from her. I wondered what was going on in her mind. The silence between us held a tension that I was eager to dispel, so I asked the first question that popped into my mind.

"So why are you sitting alone in the dark?" I turned to face her and leaned back against the counter with my warm cup in my hands.

"I find it easier to think in the dark." She gestured to the light switch. "Do you mind?" I raised an eyebrow at her request, before crossing the room and flicking the switch back off, leaving the room lit only dimly by the moonlight from the window. In the dark Bella's features were far less pronounced, but the shadows of moonlight played on her face, giving her a mysterious beauty.

"Better?" I asked. She smiled minutely.

"Much. Thanks." I leaned against the doorframe, unsure of whether to stay or go. "So why are you up anyway?" I remembered why, and grimaced at the thought of going back downstairs.

"Tarzan and Jane won't stop having loud, wild jungle sex." Bella laughed. It was small, but significant enough to bring a smile to my face. "What about you? Nocturnal?" She smiled and shook her head.

"I wish that was the reason." She shook her head. "Alice, Jasper, and Jose Cuervo have been drunkenly going at it for about an hour. I left once her bed started banging into the wall between our rooms." I groaned, feeling her pain. Alice was like a fucking banshee in the sack. I'd considered buying her a gag ball for her birthday, hoping she'd take the hint.

"Yea, yours is worse," I said. Bella nodded her agreement.

"Can't argue with you there." I hesitated by the door.

"I guess I should go back to bed." I pushed off the door frame and began to turn.

"Wait." I stopped and turned back to Bella, curious. "Will you stay with me for a bit?" I fought to keep the smile off my face, instead offering a small nod.

"Sure." I made my way to the table, sitting down, but making sure not to sit too close to her. Once I was there, another silence passed between us. I was completely unsure of what to do or say around her. I felt like I'd said my piece, and all that was left was to wait for her.

I sipped my tea, set it down, looked at it, picked it up and sipped it again, and so on for what seemed like an eternity. I glanced at the clock on the microwave, 2:30AM. It was safe to say that my morning classes were not likely going to include me. I sipped my tea again.

"Edward, I want to tell you what happened." My gaze jerked from my tea to Bella, finding her nervously looking back at me, her hands toying with her cup. I swallowed hard.

"Are you sure?" She offered a wry chuckle.

"No." I bit my lip. I didn't want to pressure her. She must have noticed my insecurity, because she reached a tentative hand out, resting it on my forearm. "No, I am." she said, more assuredly. " I am. It's just tough, you know? Like... I don't talk about it. Ever." I put my hand on Bella's, thankful that she didn't pull hers away.

"You can talk to me about anything, Bells." She bit her lip, nodding slowly.

"I need you to promise that what you said before is true—that you won't change your opinion of me. I don't think I could handle it if you did." I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. Was I ready to hear this? Could this really change my whole perception of Bella like she insisted it would. I took one look at her, and the answer was clear.

"I promise."

BPOV

2006

When I was in my freshman year of high school I started dating this guy, Lucas. He was a senior, which drove my dad nuts, but he was nice. He was everything I thought I wanted at the time. He was good to me, he took care of me.

Lucas was seventeen, and by no means a virgin, but I was only fifteen, and I wasn't ready to have sex. I told him that, and he respected my decision. We did most things, it wasn't like I was depriving him or anything, but we never went all the way. I mean, he wanted it, clearly, but he never pushed me at all. I felt like I really lucked into a guy who could set aside his own desires for me.

Our relationship was great. He was really sweet, and he liked to show me off at school, which made me fall even more for him. He was exactly how I wanted my first boyfriend to be.

At the end of that year Lucas graduated, just after turning 18, and he got all set to move to Seattle to go to school there. I really didn't want him to go, but I didn't want to say anything about it. He had been really respectful of all of my decisions, so I had to be respectful of his. He moved in mid-July so he could get all settled in and work for a bit in the city before school started. I missed having him there with me, to hold me, and show me off, and make me feel... god, I don't even know what he made me feel. Like I existed, I guess.

It was August when I got the news. My dad had to tell me, and immediately I knew what he was going to say. He had the same expression on his face as when he told me that my mom died. Lucas had been gunned down in Seattle, caught in the middle of a fight between two gangs. The whole 'wrong place, wrong time' thing.

I could literally feel my heart breaking. I'd experienced loss when my mother died, but I had been so young that I didn't really understand. Losing the person I loved was the most painful thing I'd ever experienced. It felt like something heavy was on my chest, and I just couldn't get oxygen. My dad nearly had me hospitalized after he told me, my reaction was so intense.

I don't know if it was just the dramatic mind of a 15 year old girl, but I really, truly believed things would never be good again. I would never have someone who loved me and took care of me the way Lucas did. I would be alone forever.

I only went to his funeral because my dad made me go. He said I'd regret it if I missed it, so he called Alice over, got her to force me into a dress, brush the tangles out of my hair, and help him drag me through the doors of the church. Walking through those doors was an intense experience. Suddenly everyone was looking at me. Everyone pitied me. Everyone saw right through me. I was exposed. I wanted to run.

I looked around for anyone who could help me escape. I just couldn't sit in that room while they eulogized the person I honestly believed I would be with forever. I couldn't say goodbye with them, it hurt too much.

My dad and Alice pulled me into a pew, seating me on the inside so I couldn't run away. I was completely trapped in between them and one of Lucas' friends. For a while I just stared at my hands, willing them to distract me from the pain around me, in me. When the reverend stood up to start the ceremony, I felt like I couldn't get a breath, and I began to hyperventilate. It was quite the display, completely ridiculous, and certainly more dramatic than need-be at a funeral. I looked around for an escape, but Alice and my dad were still in my way. I turned to my other side and Lucas' friend, James, was watching me, looking concerned. He reached his hand out to me and tugged me along while he slid out of his side of the pew and through the back door of the church.

We sat together on the church steps for the remainder of the funeral. We didn't say anything, he just let me cry like a little girl on his shoulder. Crying with James seemed less humiliating than with Alice or Dad. He was best friends with Lucas. He would understand my pain better than they ever could.

After the funeral, I began to turn to James more and more. He hadn't gone to college, so he still lived in Forks in a small apartment. He didn't seem to mind me hanging around, in fact, he encouraged it. He said he liked to spend time with someone else who was so close to Lucas.

The only problem with hanging out with James, which I would never tell my dad for fear that he would keep me from seeing him, was the fact that James was a total alcoholic. He had started drinking early, and by midway through senior year he had missed more school than he had attended. He hadn't even applied to college because his minimum wage job could only fund his habit and nothing more. When I went to James' place, there was always an open beer in hand, and a slew of drunken slurs about how much he loved his best friend, and how he would always be there for me.

Despite the addiction, though, I still felt at home with James. I preferred a drunken kindred spirit over someone who couldn't begin to understand my pain. On occasion James and I would just sit there together, getting drunk, wallowing in self pity. It was truly a pathetic scene, but I didn't feel that without Lucas there would be anything else for me. I spent my 16th birthday in James' apartment sharing a two-four, and crying.

I spent weeks like this with James. We got closer and closer, but James knew I would never actually want to be with him. I was in love with his best friend, and 'friends' was all we could ever be. It would be the worst kind of betrayal for anything to ever happen between us. Still, that didn't stop him from occasionally trying to kiss me, or hold me in an embrace a moment longer than he should. It didn't stop him from drunkenly commenting about my body, and the things he would like to do to it. I didn't stop him. I didn't tell him it made me uncomfortable. He was my link to Lucas, I couldn't lose him.

It was late October, two months after Lucas' death, when it all came to a head. I hadn't even been drinking that day, opting to have a soda while James downed some more booze. For some reason, the soda was affecting me in ways I couldn't explain. I felt dizzy, lightheaded, my limbs became unbearably heavy. My recollections became sporadic and lacked detail from that point forward.

I could vaguely recall James picking me up from my spot as a lump on the floor, and bringing me to his bed. I could sort of feel his hands on my body, and the cool breeze wafting across my naked skin, but not with any great clarity. When semi-consciousness returned, James was thrusting into me, painfully, wildly, erratic. I tried to struggle, and he pinned my arms over my head. I tried to bite, and he flipped me over, drilling into me from behind while my face was buried in the pillow. I tried to fight. I tried to scream for help. No one came.

When James finished, he climbed off of me and pushed me off the bed onto the cold hardwood floor of his bedroom.

"Don't come back," he commanded. My head felt in a daze as I, with sloth-like speed and coordination, collected my clothes and pulled myself out of the room.

As I walked out of the front door, I realized it was the middle of the night. I pulled out my cell phone and called 9-1-1. I didn't know what else to do.

The rest of the evening went by in a haze as the yard in which I had collapsed became filled with cop cars and an ambulance. I was taken by stretcher into the ambulance, while a drunken James was escorted by police into a cruiser. My dad followed the ambulance in his squad car. The look on his face broke my heart.

At the hospital I was poked and prodded, checked and rechecked. I felt nothing. The heart stopping pain of Lucas' death had been replaced with an all-encompassing numbness. I found out later that I had been slipped the date-rape drug, and James had taken his opportunity to rape me.

My dad tried to tell me that it would all be okay. That James had been arrested and that he wouldn't rest until justice was served. I didn't feel okay, though. I felt empty, betrayed, used. If the only person who wanted me in this life was an alcoholic predator, would there ever be anyone else who would accept me? Especially now, considering I had been turned into some lunatic's whore.

The next couple of months passed slowly. James was convicted and sentenced to five years in prison. Life returned to normal for everyone except me. The pitying stares I had received because of Lucas had turned to pitying stares because of James. I wasn't 'Bella Swan' anymore, I was that girl who got raped. I was the girl who was stupid, who asked for it. I was the girl who begged for it. I was the slut, who would give it up to anyone, including an old pervert like James.

As the rumours became more and more detailed, I became more and more withdrawn. Alice stood beside me, like an attack dog ready to kill anyone who said an evil word against me. Not even her teeth could keep the scathing remarks from my ears.

Present

"Things got better, though," I told Edward. He had, thankfully, been silent while I told him my story. I dared not watch his reactions. I didn't want to see the disgust on his face. "Most of sophomore year I was a mess, but I had moved on fairly well by junior year. Alice had finally dragged me out of my hell hole and back to real life. I don't know what I would have done without her.

"In senior year when we started applying to universities, my dad really wanted me to go to the University of Washington. He wanted to keep me close, so he could protect me. Around November of last year, though, we found out that James would be up for early parole in September. When Alice told me she was going to go to Wickham, I used it as an opportunity to get out of Washington. I didn't tell Dad that James had any influence on that decision, because he would have tried to stop me from running away. Hell, if he knew now that I only left to get away from him, he'd probably haul me back with his bare hands."

I stopped and kept my eyes trained on my hands, which were only slightly visible in the dark. The house was silent as no words passed between Edward and myself. I didn't know what he'd say. I wasn't sure I wanted to.

"Bella..." Edward let his voice trail away. He didn't know what to say. Of course not, how could he? What could you possibly say to someone like me?

"Please don't pity me, Edward," I begged. Pity was an old friend I had no interest in being re-acquainted with, especially not from Edward. I forced myself to look at him, and found him watching me intently. His eyes showed no disgust, but were filled with sadness.

"Pity?" he asked. "Bella, pity if for the pitiful. I don't pity you. I'm sad for you, but you are far too strong and beautiful a women to pity." I was surprised by his statement.

"Thanks," I said in a small voice. Edward reached out to grab my hand, but I pulled it back. "Look, you asked for a reason why we can't be together, and this is it."

"How does this have anything to do with you and me?" His voice was filled with confusion.

"I can't do it. I can't go through what I went through with Lucas again. Losing you would hurt too much. Not mention every guy I've ever trusted has found a way to hurt me."

"What? You think I'll rape you Bella?" He sounded hurt and angry at the insinuation. I shook my head hard.

"Of course not. I know you wouldn't do that. I know you're a good guy. But it's guys like you who have the power to hurt me all the more. It's only a matter of time before you realize that you don't want me. I'm not good for you, Edward. I'm used up. I have nothing to give you."

"How could you say that, Bella?" he growled. "How could you minimize yourself like that? What James did to you... it had nothing to do with who you are. It was about him. Don't give him that power over you." My mouth dropped open.

"How dare you?" I cried. "This isn't about James having power over me. This is about me taking power over myself!"

"You mean the power to hurt yourself before someone else can?" His voice was ringing in my ears. I tried to shake it away.

"You don't understand."

"No, I think I understand perfectly," he spoke firmly. "You're trying to protect yourself. I get it, I understand. But trying to avoid love to keep from getting hurt isn't going to work, it's only going to hurt you more.

"Bella, I get that shit happened to you, but it hasn't made me think any less of you. It's only made realize all the more how strong, and beautiful, and resilient you are. You are not used up. You are good for me. You're the best person I've ever met, and no one can take that from you, especially not some drunk asshole with roofies." He stopped his rant, but I could find no words for rebuttal. I watched him wordlessly as he pulled out of his chair and headed toward the kitchen door, turning back to me.

"You are not used up, Bella. And I'll be here waiting for as long as it takes for you to realize that. I'm not going anywhere."

My mouth lay agape as he disappeared from the room, leaving me alone in the dark. I wasn't sure what surprised me more: that I had actually told him my story, or that he hadn't gone running for the hills upon hearing it.

After a while, I realized that it didn't matter. Edward knew everything now, and it didn't change a thing. He still wanted me. There was only question left: was I ready to give myself to him?

A/N: This was an insanely hard chapter to write. Getting her story right is the most important thing about this entire fic, so hopefully it comes across the way it's meant to.

Two small notes:

1- You'll have to bear with me for the next couple of weeks. I just started a new schedule where I'm working full time and going to school, so I'm very, very tired. I just have to get my bearings and I'll be back in fighting shape to update a little quicker.

2- The Twilight for Haiti fundraiser has been amazing, and I've sold an outtake from my fic "I Hate You with an Insurmountable Passion" to a wonderful reader. That new outtake should be up in the next couple of days, so if you're a fan of that story, keep your eyes peeled! Over at Lion_Lamb on Livejournal we've raised almost $550 for the cause, which is fantastic for just one community. From what I hear, we Twi-fans have raised somewhere in the $30 000 range—take that Twi-haters!

Thanks for reading. Let me know what you thought.