Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.
Thanks, as always, to my pre-readers, AmeryMarie, famouslyso, and Yoga_Gal.
-Chapter 10: Fission and Fusion-
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The master suite was the first (and only) stop on the tour after we finally dragged ourselves from the couch. We spent an indecent amount of time in the shower, and I was insanely thankful for Edward's tankless water heater. It was perfect for warming vampire statue skin and soothing the fragile human's goose bumps it caused.
Afterward, it was quiet and dark, and we (meaning I) napped curled together on one of the black leather couches that furnished his "bedroom." I was still puzzling over the fact that vampires didn't sleep; it amazed me that the vampire brain never needed even a slight recharge. I envied his lack of need for sleep—I had always been one of those people who needed more sleepy-time than others—and I hated the hours I had to spend unconscious when I could have been talking with Edward.
He, however, very much enjoyed it when I succumbed to slumber. I suspected he was weary of my constant questions regarding his nature and very much enjoyed my naps. Actually, I knew he enjoyed it when I napped, because the creeper loved to watch me sleep—he claimed I didn't stop talking even when unconscious, but when I was sleeping, he didn't have to answer all my scientist questions.
As dawn broke over the mountains, I stretched, working out the kinks of a night spent between comfortable leather couch cushions and uncomfortable vampire limbs. He knew I was awake; he always did. I could feel it in the subtle shift of his muscles where they pressed against me, in the calm rhythm of his unnecessary breath.
Last night's conversation was still running through my head, and I felt awful. He had told me about his past, and I'd practically jumped his bones in response. Affection and intimacy had seemed like the perfect balm for his wounds last night, but in the light of day, I wondered if my approach had been a little lacking.
"Edward?" I asked, my voice small and out of place in the silence that enveloped us.
"Hmm?" he murmured, resting his lips on my hair as I shifted, settling into his side.
"I'm sorry they did that to you."
"Why are you sorry? You had nothing to do with it." He sounded genuinely puzzled, and his expression confirmed it when he pulled back to look at me.
"They took away your choices, and claimed they did it out of love. It hurts...knowing what you've been through at the hands of people you trusted. Love doesn't do that. Love doesn't need to change you." I bit my lip, afraid I'd said too much. Everything between us had happened so fast...and I had no way of knowing if his feelings ran as deep as mine.
Edward smiled softly, his eyes glinting with affection. "I'm beginning to realize that," he told me, tracing the pad of his thumb over my lip, gently pulling it from between my teeth.
"I don't know what I would do if that happened to me..."
He stopped me with a soft kiss. "Shh," he soothed, running a hand through my hair, letting it sift through his fingers. "You'll never have to find out, Bella. I promise you. Anyone trying to hurt you will have to go through me."
"You won't always be there, Edward. You're immortal, and I'm not. You won't want to be hanging around when I look old enough to be your grandmother." It wasn't like he'd be chomping at the bit to be with me when I was blue-haired and working on a hoarder's collection of house-cats. I fully expected my life to be that sad. How could I go on to have a normal life, when I'd been given something so extraordinary already? Still, I'd gladly take the lonely life of a spinster later, if I could have Edward today.
That didn't mean it didn't hurt like crazy to think he'd be gone someday.
His tone darkened, his brows winging down in a puzzled frown. "Why wouldn't I?"
"I...I just wouldn't expect you to hang around and change my adult diapers, that's all," I said, blinking in the face of his sudden anger.
"Bella, why would you make light of my feelings for you? Do you think I'm that shallow?"
"I don't want you to remember me that way!" I snapped, and I was surprised when he flinched in response. He looked so hurt; those eyes were dark with some kind of unnamed emotion, his face lined in regret.
Softening my voice, I trailed my fingers along the groove of his spine in short, soothing motions.
"Please, I don't want to fight. I'm sorry I brought it up."
"I'm well aware that I'll be alone again someday. You don't need to remind me," he muttered, pulling away to sit up, running a hand through his hair.
My body automatically followed his as I reached out to grip his forearm. "I'm sorry."
He visibly stiffened, taking in a deep breath. "You must be hungry. I bought a few things at the store so you'd be comfortable," he said quickly. "I can make you some breakfast."
I eagerly latched on to his swift change of subject for once. "You don't have to do that. I'd be happy with fast food."
"Why do I get the feeling that you eat far too much of that crap already?"
I smirked, happy that know-it-all Edward was back. "So? It's fast, and for some reason, I'm short on time."
"It's full of preservatives and chemicals!"
"How would you know, Mr. Liquid Diet?" I poked at his ribs—gently, of course. It wouldn't do to have a broken finger when I had clean-up duty in the enclosures later today.
"I do my research," he defended, shrugging lazily.
"Oh, really?"
"Have to keep my pet human properly fed," he quipped, turning darkened amber eyes my way. The smirk that accompanied his smoldering glance made me want to punch him, but that would be very detrimental to the health of my skeleton.
"'Pet human'?" I repeated, giving him a disbelieving look. "Nice."
"What, I'm not allowed to make a joke?"
"That's my job. You're supposed to be morose and sullen. Completely Emo. You know—broody and devastatingly good-looking. Gotta uphold those vampire stereotypes, in case the whole sparkling thing gets out." I rose from the couch and padded to the bathroom, pausing in the doorway to add, "For your information, society frowns upon those who do sexual things with their pets." With a laugh, I left him frozen on the couch, gawking in my direction.
-x-
It was nearly impossible to keep my mind on work that morning. My thoughts were back on Fox Island, stuck in a steamy little bathroom. After I'd all but accused him of bestiality, Edward had followed me and proceeded to take back his 'pet human' comment—in a very delicious way. He'd monopolized so much of my time that we didn't have a chance to make it back to my place before he dropped me off at work. I was wearing my day old, probably smelly uniform from yesterday, but I didn't really even mind. Everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours was completely worth it.
I was severely distracted, and it was like the cats knew it, too. They kept testing me, pushing to see how far they could stretch their boundaries. I knew from the minute I walked past the first enclosure that today would be a tough one. My first thought was to go to Angela and voice my concerns, but she'd definitely take me off close-contact duty. I didn't want to pull another kitchen duty shift, so that option was out.
Ignoring the nerves building in my gut, I was determined to get things back to normal on the job front. I promised myself I'd be extra vigilant today, in addition to confident, calm, and assertive, just as I should be.
Most of the morning went quickly, as I was paired with another caretaker, Mike, who was easygoing and fun to work with.
"Damn, they're bitchy today." He paused, wiping sweat from his brow as I continued spreading clean straw along one side of the fence. Warily, I eyed the cougar that was currently exactly opposite us, watching us with sharp eyes, poised in a distrustful stance.
I shrugged. "I must have lost my touch today." It was bad enough that Angela knew about the cats' repeated bad attitudes around me; I didn't need the rest of my coworkers in my business as well. Mike was a nice guy, but he had a mouth on him.
"Elmyra's lost her touch? They won't let you try to pet them to death anymore?"
"You're the only man I know that would admit to watching Tiny Toons, Mike." We backed out of the enclosure, and I only felt like I could relax when the gate was firmly locked behind us.
"They're baby Looney Toons! How can that be wrong? Looney Toons are classics. Those were real cartoons. Bugs Bunny, Elmer Fudd, the Roadrunner, Wile E. Coyote..."
"I know who they are, Mike. And you forgot Tweety Bird and Sylvester." I added as we made our way to the supply shed to restock.
"'I tawt I saw a puddy-tat,'" he mimicked, making me burst out laughing.
The light, easy conversation was exactly what I needed to relax and try to enjoy work for the day. Soon, we were almost finished, and we took our time gathering supplies for the last assignment, filling the cart with bedding material and snacks from the kitchen.
A new cat had just arrived this week, and I didn't know much about her other than she was recovering from an infected minor gunshot wound. Mike and I had saved her area for last, since we knew it wouldn't need much other than a simple cleaning. We'd wanted to get the harder jobs out of the way first.
She eyed us carefully as I rolled the cart into the enclosure and locked the gate. I made sure to avoid direct eye contact while still keeping her within sight as we began to work. Her hackles rose, but she remained in her corner, only grunting a little growl of disapproval at the repetitive scrape of the rake against the ground.
"Hey, Bella?" Mike asked, pulling his phone from his pocket. "I've gotta take this; it's my kid's school. You'll be okay for a minute, right?"
"Sure. I'll finish up; you go ahead. We're almost done here, anyway."
"Great, thanks. I'll try to be back before you're done, so I can take the cart back."
I waved him off with a smile. "No problem, Tweety."
He snorted and flipped me off before heading out of the enclosure, leaving me alone with the new recruit.
-x-
Huge. Mistake.
Those simple words were all I could think as I stood cornered by a very angry cougar. I should have never stayed in the pen while Mike stepped out. The cat was blocking my path out of the enclosure, hissing and growling and baring her teeth. Her tail twitched in irritation as she paced in front of me, all lean, coiled muscle and barely contained energy. For a sickly cat, she sure seemed spry enough. In spite of the adrenaline coursing through my veins, I was able to think clearly, my mind racing through every available option. Besides the measly can of pepper spray in my pocket, I had only my rake to defend myself. I held it across my body, metal spikes pointed low and out, trying to create a barrier between me and the cat.
As an admirer of nature, I'd always understood and appreciated the dynamic between predator and prey. However, now that I was about to become actual prey, that sort of knowledge was terrifying. But I couldn't think about that. If I let myself get scared, if I panicked and made a mistake... It just couldn't happen. I was trained to defend myself in this very situation. All I had to do was remember...
Eye contact. Don't look away.
Make a lot of noise. Loud noises! A brief image of the dumb weatherman from Anchorman popped into my head, and what started as a hysterical giggle morphed into a barely threatening growl, but it was all I had ― and it was enough. With my next breath, I was able to yell.
"Back! Back!" I screamed, stomping my feet.
Look big. Look scary. Show the damn cougar your mean face!
The temptation to look away was huge―I really hoped Mike was lining up a shot with a fucking tranq dart somewhere. Still, it would have been nice to have some visual confirmation.
She paced back and forth, testing me at every turn. I poked in her direction with my rake, occasionally hitting the ground in front of me. Jesus, I hope I look threatening enough...
Where the hell was Mike?
They better get the tranq in this bitch soon! I still had to fight her off while the drug took effect. She wasn't backing down, and she wasn't giving me any chances to dart for the exit. Just after a particularly long lunge with my rake, I stepped into a divot in the ground and lost my balance. The wooden rake handle snapped in half as it hit the hard dirt, and sent me pitching forward toward the cougar. I managed to fall right on one end, the blunt wood hitting me in the ribs. Air burst out of my lungs in a huge rush, leaving me nearly paralyzed, laid out like some kind of cougar buffet.
Everything slowed at once, all my senses freezing except for one. I wrenched my eyes open, coming face to face with the feral gaze of the big cat as she lumbered toward me in what seemed like slow motion. My heart pumped a frantic rhythm in my chest, and every beat felt like a fist hitting my ribs. Finally, my muscles decided to obey my brain's commands to run, and I scrambled to my hands and knees, turning my back on the cougar out of necessity as I tried to escape.
I really didn't want to look into the eyes of my killer while she ate me.
I heard the screams of the zoo patrons a split second before I felt her teeth tear through my calf. Searing pain radiated all the way to my hip socket when the canines ran out of flesh and encountered bone. One hard jerk from the cat, and I fell to the ground, twigs and rocks digging into my flesh were the camp shirt rode up as she dragged me backwards. Her claws tore into my thigh as she held me down and wrenched her mouth from my leg. Taking the chance, I tried to scramble away, but she bit me again, this time clamping just above the inside of my right knee. I realized I still clutched the broken rake handle―and it was my only hope of surviving this. I had only seconds before she attempted another bite, and next time, she wouldn't be going for my legs.
Cougars killed by suffocation. She'd be aiming much higher. I didn't want anyone nibbling on my neck but Edward...
Pushing aside the stupid thought, I blindly struck backward with the makeshift weapon, getting a moment of satisfaction when I felt the wood strike solid muscle. The impact reverberated up my arm to the very bone, and I wanted to feel it again and again. I let loose with another set of wild blows, screaming the entire time. Where the fuck was the guy with the tranquilizer gun? The sharp end of the stick found home in something soft, and I pushed with all my might. The cougar screamed in what I hoped was pain; fleeting concern for the cat's well-being cut short when more fire shot up my leg. She'd wrenched her teeth from my thigh, likely making the wound much worse. I looked behind me to see the cat gearing up for another go, and if she got that chance, I likely wouldn't make it out alive. She had retreated, finally, but she'd taken my weapon with her―it was buried in her flank.
Remembering the pepper spray, I jammed my hand in my pocket, closing my fingers around the cold metal of the canister. A staccato crack sounded behind me, followed by a rough grunt from the cougar, and I looked over to see a tranquilizer cartridge sticking out of her side, the orange flag on the end waving in the breeze. It became all I could focus on as she loped toward me in a clumsy gait, still all huge claws and teeth and fur and muscle. I thrust my hand up and aimed for her eyes. The pepper spray spewed out with a hiss, but I had no idea if it was reaching its target. My arm was getting so heavy...and why was it so hard to depress the trigger on a tiny aerosol can? This time, I barely felt her teeth when they pierced my forearm, effectively making me drop my last remaining defense.
Static crackled and hissed in my ears as blackness descended over my field of vision. Vaguely, I heard the drowsy snarl of the cat, and a thump sounded as she dropped to the ground next to me. I let my eyelids fall closed in relief, a small sob escaping from my chest. My fingers twitched, brushing coarse fur, and the ripe, earthy scent of her filled my nostrils. Both legs throbbed and burned, leaving me to wonder if I'd ever walk again―but I knew the answer was no.
I wouldn't survive this.
I could tell by the coldness that was slowly creeping through me, starting in my fingers and toes and moving toward my torso. Despite the fact that I was dying, only one thing dominated my thoughts: Edward. He would be so disappointed. What would this do to him? We'd been counting on time together as I grew old. Then he would have had time to prepare for my death. Now, he'd hear of it on the nightly news or read about it in the morning paper. I didn't want him to be alone again.
He'd just opened up to me...and I was going to die on him.
The scuffle of feet drew my attention away from the muddled thoughts as people rushed into the enclosure. Hands poked and prodded, and voices demanded answers I knew I should provide, but I couldn't find the strength—the agony was overwhelming.
All those people who say shock mutes the pain of grave injury? They're fucking liars.
All shock did for me was drain every ounce of energy I possessed, making me too lethargic to complain about my injuries.
I laid there as they assessed my spine and poked at the lacerations in my legs, trying to keep up with the frantic conversations going on above me. My vision was almost completely dark now, but I knew my eyes were open. They were gritty and dry, tearless in spite of the pain, burning as if I hadn't blinked in ages.
Was sight the first thing to go?
"I think her right femoral is shredded. We've got to get her out of here or she's not gonna make it..." someone shouted as another person shoved a finger into one of my wounds.
That fucking hurt. Seriously, a white-hot branding-iron up the ass would have felt better. Weren't people supposed to pass out from extreme pain? Why wasn't I granted that privilege?
Though I wanted to scream so loudly my throat bled, all I could do was groan feebly. My leg throbbed in protest as someone applied a tourniquet, the jerky motion and tight clasp so painful it felt like they'd wrapped barbed wire around my thigh. The EMTs ignored me and kept working, transferring me to a backboard and clamping something around my neck. The world lurched as they raised the gurney and rushed off, every single bump sending flares of agony shooting up my spine.
The next thing I knew, I was startled by the slam of what must have been the ambulance door. Bright overhead lights seared my pupils, turning my world into a landscape of harsh, white heat and black emptiness.
"You got that bag of Lactated Ringer's ready? We've got to get a line going or she's going to crash." The EMT's harsh voice echoed in the small space, making my eardrums hurt.
The prick of a needle stung my forearm beneath my left elbow. I was already torn up; did they really need to poke more holes in me?
"Ringer's is going to be useless, man. She's gonna need Hespan; she's probably in hypovolemic shock. Did you see all that blood back there? I'm surprised she's still alive..."
Great, assholes. Way to be optimistic about your job skills...
It was one thing to know I was going to die, another to hear the paramedics all but admit it. Granted, they probably thought I couldn't hear them, but still...
"PICC line is ready whenever you are..." They stopped talking, and I felt a cold burn at the inside of my elbow as they started the drip. It wasn't painful, but it wasn't comfortable either as the treatment worked its way through my veins and arteries. A fuzzy, tingling feeling settled into my fingertips and toes, the feeling not unlike the pins and needles I felt after one of my limbs had fallen asleep.
A screech of tires sounded as the ambulance lurched to the side, throwing me against the straps that held me to the gurney. Just my luck...of course the ambulance would wreck on the way to the hospital.
"What the fuck?" someone shouted in the midst of the cacophony.
"Holy shit..."
"This is unit 451...we need response vehicles!"
Then...silence. No more sirens, no more yelling emergency personnel, no more whirring and beeping from the equipment in the ambulance; there was only the low, rumbling hum of the diesel engine. Concentrating hard, I opened my eyes, in spite of the fact that my vision wasn't cooperating. A blur of blinding white pierced my pupils, striking deep into my brain before I could shut my eyes. In another instant, it was replaced by blurs of golden softness.
Hard fingers enveloped my cheek, each point of contact searing my flesh in the most pleasant way.
"What have you done to yourself, Beautiful?" His voice soothed my ears, wrapping around me, driving some of the pain away. Beneath the metallic odor of blood, I could smell him, all honey and sunshine and heaven.
"Edward?" Why did I sound so weak?
"It's me, love," he whispered, stroking over my cheek. He's never called me 'love' before...shit, I'm really dying.
"Am I dreaming? Am I already dead?"
"No, love. You're not dreaming."
I didn't fail to notice that he ignored my second question.
"I'm sorry, Edward. I didn't want to leave you so soon."
"Shhh...don't talk. Save your strength."
"That's what they always say," I croaked. I was so cold...and his fingers were so warm...he was so warm...
It was all so wrong.
If I worked really hard, I could just make out the golden hue of his irises. He must have fed since we'd parted, but I still wondered how hard it was for him to be around me when I was covered in blood...by his own admission, the most tempting blood he'd ever smelled.
"Are you going to eat me now?"
His face crumpled into a sob for a split second, before he forced out a strained laugh. "No, of course not."
"It's okay, you know. I'm going to die anyway. Those paramedics said so." My words were coming out slurred, and my tongue felt like it was three sizes too big for my mouth. A tingling, stinging itch was growing at the back of my throat, reaching deep into my lungs and venturing all the way to my lips. Tightness built in my chest as it became difficult to breathe.
"You're going to be fine." It sounded as if he was the one that needed convincing.
He lifted me in his arms, and I barely felt the shift in movement. In no time, a cool, humid breeze laced with mist stung my eyes, and I knew that Edward was running. I was almost sorry that I was missing the beauty of him at a time like this. I wanted to see the blur of buildings and deep green foliage that whipped along either side of us, even though my human eyes couldn't possibly keep track of any one thing as he rushed me out of the city.
"People will see..." I forced out through the iron band containing my lungs.
"We're too fast for human eyes to track." His voice was curt and tense, conveying every ounce of worry he must have been feeling.
I fell silent again, relaxing against his hold and concentrating on taking just one satisfying breath. Why was it so hard to breathe? It grew worse and worse, as did the tingling itch in my airway, until I was wheezing with every effort to draw in air.
"I...can't breathe," I choked, tugging at his collar.
"Just another moment, love; hang on!"
Minutes later we skidded to a stop, but I couldn't make myself open my eyes to see where we were. I didn't need to see where I was going to die, anyway. I'd seen Edward in my last minutes, and if that was all I was going to get, it was fine.
Pain shot up my leg as he laid me on a soft surface and ripped at the already tattered material of my shorts.
"You have to help her, Carlisle!" Edward shouted, anguish and panic roughening his usually angelic voice. "You want to make up for what you did? Help her!"
Carlisle? He took me to his family? Why?
As I tried to reason the situation out in my oxygen-deprived brain, snippets of conversation floated above me. I recognized Alice's light bell-tones, Jasper's slow, whiskey-flavored speech, and a few others I'd never heard before.
"Edward, there's nothing we can do for her. She's severely hypovolemic, and she's in anaphylactic shock. Do you know what the EMTs used to treat her? She's having a major allergic reaction." This one sounded competent and calm in the midst of the storm, his voice soothing.
"No! I was too late!" Edward snapped. "I didn't get to her until she was already in the ambulance."
"Well if you would have answered my first call—"
"Shut up, Alice!" Edward roared, causing me to flinch. "Carlisle, please!"
"I'm sorry, Edward. Her airway is constricting, and I have nothing to counteract the allergic reaction. We don't exactly have a need for epinephrine in this house. There's only..."
"No," Edward growled, and it was full of anguish.
I knew my time was running out. My chest was so tight it felt like it would explode any second, and I grasped Edward's hand where it rested near my leg. There was so much I wanted to tell him...but nothing would come to me in those final moments.
Forcing my eyes to open, I focused on his face. His eyes were dark, molten gold, burning with pain and rage, and I wanted only to soothe him. Using what was left of my breath, I mouthed, "I love you. Be happy, Edward."
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-Puts on Kevlar-
So, I actually replied to all the reviews last time! And if I missed yours, let me know. Call me names. I tried! I won't leave you guys hanging - the next chapter is written. Don't kill me, okay?
So, what do you think is going to happen? Do you wish I'd get attacked by a horde of zombies? (Sorry, I just watched The Walking Dead - I have zombies on the brain.)
Next update will be Wednesday, I think. You get it a day early because I was an idiot and decided to have the whole damn family over for Thanksgiving. God help me.
Thank you for reading, and if you're so inclined to leave a review, you're awesome.