AN:
I know the updates are slower, but life is a lot crazier these days. I'll always try and make it worth the wait.
This chapter, like chapter 10, is probably a huge tissue warning and contains emotional scenes involving a funeral for a suicide victim. *sends virtual hugs*
Major thanks, as always, to megsly07 and sarawithouttheh, who keep me sane between chapters.
A special thanks to MsBond01, whose own story Becoming Bella (which you should read! Now!) inspired the choice of song within this chapter.
Huge love for all of my reviewers as well, especially those who asked questions last time.
Stay tuned to the end notes for a special surprise.
As always, I own nothing but my original plot ideas.
Special note for FF readers: Due to their URL restrictions, you may see strange looking links in 'Tweets'. This is why I recommend reading this story in particular on Twilighted if you have the option. :p on you, FF!
Bella's head twisted frantically in pursuit of Edward's escaping form, torn between her general anxiety over being the focus of anyone's attention and her yearning to follow him - to the ends of the earth, if need be - and know he would be okay. Even as Carlisle urged Alice to give her brother time, even as her father gently tugged her arm, she pinched her thigh, the familiar sting providing no satisfaction or distraction from her urge to leap up and run. Desperately, her eyes flashed to Alice, the one who seemed to know Edward best, for a sign.
"It's okay, Bella," Alice whispered quietly, "He's just seen too many of these. And the fact that Liz was the last one- other than Mom, I mean-"
"Liz?" Bella asked, wincing at her father's frown.
"She ended it herself, too... The tattoo?"
Bella searched her mind desperately, struggling to recall a tattoo for a Liz. It struck her then that Edward had told her of five tattoos prior to their meeting, but she only knew of three. How had she missed two of them? And why hadn't he pointed them out to her? What was he hiding? She'd never hidden anything from Edward, not since she'd confessed to the self-injury.
Lies. He doesn't know about Jacob and Rachel.
Eventually. Just... Not yet.
Sure. Sure, you'll tell him. Tell him and send him running for the hills.
Dear inner self: fuck off. No love, Bella.
The parade of mourners speaking of Jessica seemed to be drawing to a close, and Bella inhaled sharply, willing her tears to stop. Friend or not, no one deserved to feel awful enough to... to... An image of her mother flickered in her mind and Bella bit her lower lip hard, salty blood dotting her tongue as she searched for her father's hand. It was more callused than Edward's, but strong, steadying. She felt him press a kiss to the top of her head, a rare showing of physical affection that knocked the wind out of her lungs. This could have been... It almost... Shaking her head slightly, she forced herself to focus upon the priest as he returned to the front of the congregation, his own eyes moist.
"I do believe we are drawing to a close, unless anyone else would like to offer a tribute to the memory of Jessica-"
"I would."
Bella spun around to see Edward standing at the back of the church, his green eyes swollen with tears and bronze locks of hair tugged askew, as she knew him to do when nervous. His fingers twitched and flexed as he made his way forward, his family exchanging nervous glances. Bella heard Emmett quietly ask if he should stop him, only to be met with a soft smile from Alice.
"It'll be okay, Emm. Trust me."
Edward whispered to the priest as he took the first stair towards the podium, his lean body halting as a short conversation ensued. With a warm smile, the priest nodded, stepping aside, his arms open and inviting him forward.
He looks so small, Bella mused sadly. Broken.
His eyes averted, Edward edged towards the microphone, his fingers grazing the worn wood delicately. Whispers of confusion rolled over the crowd in a wave, the tension palpable. Eyes closed, he exhaled, rather than spoke, before the room.
"I have something to say..."
He paused, and in that brief silence, Bella felt Edward tumbling far out of her reach, down into some chasm locked deep in his heart, a place of pure sorrow. Her fists clenched, longing to reach out and catch him, yet understanding that sometimes, it took journeying to the darkest corners to find a glimmer of light. Her eyes locked upon his furrowed brow, joining him in her heart. You're not alone, Edward. Please don't let go of me now. With a ragged breath, Edward continued.
"I wasn't necessarily close to Jessica, but I've known her for years. Last summer, she and I ran into each other a lot at the conservatory in Seattle. I was taking piano lessons - upgrading - and... Jessica was taking vocal."
Bella frowned, confused. Why did he never tell me this? I knew they went to high school together, and obviously, we shared therapists, but this? It occurred to Bella that as she had wept over the previous days, her incoherent rants on the futility of therapy and how precariously thin the thread of sanity could be tumbling out uncensored, Edward had suffered almost silently. I'm so selfish, Bella chastised herself.
Edward's voice shuddered slightly, "I knew Jessica, but I can't say I understood her completely. I don't think any person can really understand another, not entirely; it's impossible to step into the precise position of a human and live their emotions and thoughts. But it struck me, reading the program and hearing that poem... Jessica needs to be heard. It's probably what she didn't know how to do: she didn't know how to explain herself enough that she felt able to... go on. I get that part, I do; I was there..."
Edward turned to the piano behind him to his left, nodding to the player who sat, statuesque in the white robes with red trim. Returning his gaze to the audience, his gaze locked on Alice, who had begun to cry silent tears as Jasper massaged her back. Bella turned around, offering her a tissue, to which Alice smiled weakly. Bella felt her father's arm wrap briefly around her shoulder, squeezing her to him. We were there. We were spared. Why didn't anyone find Jessica? Why did she lose the fight? Clearing his throat, Edward rocked back and forth upon his feet, his fingers grazing the microphone at the podium as if to ground him in this reality, pulling him back from the precipice of his past.
"Jessica used to warm up in the room next to me each day. She only spoke to me once, perhaps the second week I was there. She was studying sheet music as she walked into the rehearsal space... I remember she looked so... Lost, I guess. She tossed the sheets aside and she said... " Edward chuckled softly, "Forgive me, Father, but she said, 'Fucking Amazing Grace! So cliché!.'"
Jessica's friends and family tittered at the quote, nodding knowingly. Apparently, Jessica's lack of enthusiasm for one of the more famous Christian staples was well known among her kin. Insight dawning, Bella flipped open the program and bit her lip to suppress a laugh at the final item: Amazing Grace. Edward's behaviour suddenly made sense; he knew that, were Jessica here, she'd be furious to see the song slated for a day in her memory. Bella looked to Edward and flashed a soft smile, to which he nodded, before closing his eyes, his words quiet and warm.
"She tossed the sheets aside and went into the room, and soon, her daily ritual began. She warmed up to the same song each day, blasting her CD before the instructor and other pupils arrived. She had a strong voice in song; I just... I wish her other voice was stronger. Jessica's no longer here to sing for us, but I'm going to do my best to be her understudy on life's stage."
Bella's eyes widened as Edward crossed to the piano, the player rising slowly and stepping aside as he slid behind the worn ivory keys. A murmur flowed through the crowd, with one friend whispering, 'Yes. Sing that song.' Behind her, Alice and Carlisle exchanged hushed words so quickly, Bella was unable to even discern them as English. Her vision tunnelled and she drew a deep breath, urging herself to be steady, to be strong for Edward. It was his turn to need her, her turn to be brave in sorrow. His fingers testing a few keys, he nodded, paused, then began to play and sing:
"Two a.m. and she calls me 'cause I'm still awake
'Can you help me unravel my latest mistake?
I don't love him; winter just wasn't my season.'
Yeah, we walk through the doors
So accusing their eyes
Like they have any right at all to criticize
Hypocrites, you're all here for the very same reason..."
Bella felt tears flow anew as Edward's rich voice wrapped around each syllable, every nuance so emotive, so alive that it began to feel as if Jessica were with them, singing along silently. Her hand reached for her father's once more, clinging desperately as she struggled to breathe between soft sobs. The girl who'd urged Edward to perform wept uncontrollably, smiling faintly through her tears, her eyes raised upwards. Another friend smoothed the girl's auburn curls away from her eyes, passing her tissues even as her own bloodshot eyes grew moist.
"'Cause you can't jump the track; we're like cars on a cable
And life's like an hourglass, glued to the table
No one can find the rewind button, girl
So cradle your head in your hands
And breathe... Just breathe..."
"He almost...." Alice whispered, her voice pained.
"What?" Rosalie murmured.
"I think... He finally gets it..."
Bella's body shook as the lyrics flooded her head, her mind an echo chamber that threatened to drown out all other senses. 'No one can find the rewind button, girl...' The agonizing truth of the statement crushed her heart viciously in a vice of self-hatred. There would never be a way to undo her past sins, or remedy the pain she'd inflicted upon the people she swore she loved. She would never be able to erase the worry lines upon Charlie's face that had only recently appeared, would never be able to erase the sound of him shouting across the ether at her. She winced as she recalled his frantic pitch, her body roughly yanked from the cab of her truck.
"Bella, what are you doing?! Oh my God, no! Don't you die on me, Bells!"
Silently, she mouthed an apology to a ghost in her head as Edward continued to sing, tears trickling from the corners of his own eyes now as his gaze met with Jessica's parents. They clung to each other, the two of them almost a single entity, such was their need. Did he see Carlisle's face instead, as she sat here and pictured Charlie at her own almost-funeral? Did he wonder if Esme was watching that day he tried to end his life, as she wondered if Renee had been the reason Charlie had opted to come home without warning? Bella heard her father whisper reassuringly and she realized her sobs had grown louder, joining a chorus that strangely seemed melodic, as if even their grief was shaped by the delicate piano Edward's nimble fingers delivered.
"Two a.m. and I'm still awake, writing a song
If I get it all down on paper, it's no longer inside of me
Threatening the life it belongs to
And I feel like I'm naked in front of the crowd
'Cause these words are my diary, screaming out loud
And I know that you'll use them however you want to..."
Edward's singing grew louder, more pained, the verse striking at something hidden inside his own wounded soul. From the corner of her eye, Bella saw a flicker of movement and turned to see the sobbing girl rise to her feet, making her way to the front, her own faint soprano joining Edward's vocals in harmony. He looked to her, surprised, then nodded furiously, a silent exchange passing between them as she took a place to the side of the stage. Another young woman rose near the front, her hand reaching for the solidarity of another, the two women in their simple black dresses echoing Edward's plaintive voice in unison. Ironically, Bella pressed her palm to her chest, struggling to inhale under the weight of awakened memories and newly envisioned 'could have beens' while Alice's tiny hand rubbed her shoulder. In the moment that Edward finished, when the girls had clung to him, whispering their thanks as Edward merely nodded, speechless, Bella became aware of something so unfamiliar, so terrifying, it took all of her will to remain conscious.
I love him. I'm... in love with him.
His stumbling gait carried him to their pew as the priest wrapped up the proceedings, Amazing Grace abandoned in favour of a final short speech on the importance of supporting each other in difficult times. With an exhausted sigh, Edward slid into the seat beside her, his head tumbling onto her lap as he quietly sobbed.
"Shhh..." Bella murmured, stroking his messy hair, "Shh... It's okay..."
I love you. I'll take care of you, somehow. I promise.
His hands fisted in his hair, tugging strands loose, and she threaded her fingers between his, massaging the knuckles until they released, clinging to her instead. His grip was iron-tight and painful, but she would never complain. His pain was hers, and she would share it. In her mind, she drifted back to their first night together, to the desperate need she'd felt for him, even then...
"Two people who can't be saved... But what if...?"
"What?"
"What if we just try anyway?"
"Hang on," she whispered.
His muffled reply reverberated against her thigh: "C-Can't..."
"Try. For me."
There was music. A recessional had begun, and Bella's eyes wandered, taking in the scene. Small details suddenly seemed magnified: the scratches and gouges in the back of the pew in front of them seemed violent and pronounced, like the thick angry marks on her legs when first etched into her living slate. The stained glass imagery of Jesus and the Apostles seemed... brighter, somehow, almost ethereal; and yet, Bella noted, the tiny crack in the glass over Jesus' right palm seemed looming and ominous. Even the notes and chords of the music that surrounded them as mourners filed out seemed too lush, too loud.
Death commanded a silence, an absence.
Edward's sobs ebbed away, his convulsions slowing as Bella leaned down, kissing his head lightly. She could think of nothing else to comfort him. His thumb ran lightly over the back of her palm and warmth surged through her at the now familiar gesture. Even now, Edward cared for her, wanted to soothe her own misery.
"Bells?"
Bella glanced to her father's concerned visage and forced a weak smile, "I'm going to stay with him, if that's okay?"
Charlie nodded, "Of course." Rising and turning around to greet the Cullens, he nodded to each of them, "Please ensure Bella gets home safely?"
"Naturally, Chief Swan," Carlisle replied. "Bella is family to us now."
As her father departed, she heard a murmur from her left, soft and formless. Her hair swung with her as she locked eyes with Jessica's parents, Robert and Maria Stanley. Their eyes were nearly swollen shut from persistent crying, every vessel swollen from the exertion. Bella knew their heads must ache with even the slightest of sounds now; she'd cried that hard when her mother had passed. It was what had kept her from speaking at Renee's service: she couldn't even begin to read, let alone speak a eulogy.
"Edward," Bella whispered softly, "Jessica's parents..."
His head lifted slowly, hands swiping at the corners of his eyes as he lifted his face to hers. She forced her bravest smile, her hand grazing his cheek as his lower lip trembled.
"Bella," Edward whispered, "Don't go anywhere."
It was a command, more than a question, but unnecessary. Smoothing his hair back from his face, she nodded, her hand clasping his as he turned to face the Stanleys. His cheeks were feverish, his emotions burning through him with ferocious force. Jessica's mother did not speak, but merely pressed her hands to her heart, offering them forward to Edward in a silent gift. Robert Stanley, who seemed to be faring only slightly better than Maria, swallowed hard before speaking.
"We wanted to thank you... Your gesture was..." Robert paused, dotting away tears with his fingertips, "Jessica's favourite singer was Anna Nalick. If she were h-here..."
"She needed a voice..." Edward whispered.
Robert nodded with conviction, pulling his wife closer, "We tried, but the pain... If you ever need anything, our home... The door's open."
Edward nodded, scarcely managing to whisper his thanks. Bella looked to Alice, who'd begun to tear up anew, Jasper wrapping his arms about her from behind, swaying her gently side to side. Carlisle stepped into the aisle and embraced the couple, a private exchange of words occurring with the parents of the girl he'd had to pronounce dead, and Edward's focus turned back to Bella. His wild eyes and troubled expression terrified her.
It was how she looked when she'd decided to park her truck in the garage.
"Edward...?"
"I need to get away. Now."
"Take me with you."
Edward shook his head, "It's too much-"
"Then let me help you," Bella insisted, her grip upon his hand tightening, "You're not alone."
"I am," Edward whispered, "In the end, always... Let me go." His voice was pleading with her now, scarcely above a whisper.
"Together or not at all," Bella said softly, "Please."
His eyes darted in every direction, locking gazes with Alice. Immediately, his sister took a step closer and he cringed. He doesn't want Alice around him. Alice reached out to him and he recoiled as if struck, shaking his head.
"I need to go somewhere..."
"I'll take you," Bella promised, "Edward?"
A beat.
"Fine. But now. Now. Gotta go now...."
Swallowing hard, Bella held out her hand to Alice, "I need your car. Please?"
Alice nodded as Jasper withdrew a jangling set from his pants pocket, "Red Grand Prix, far corner."
Edward tugged her almost violently to her feet and she stumbled, caught by his strong hands. He mumbled an apology before repeating his mantra of 'now, now, go now' as he led them out of the church at a jog. When Bella again stumbled in her heels, he paused, scooping her up into his arms and cradling her as he continued his journey to Alice's car. Bella's arms wrapped around his neck, the tense muscles there almost granite-like. She didn't know where Edward needed to go, or why, but this was a very desperate man. A man she loved dearly.
I'll fix you, somehow...
Setting her down by the driver's side, Edward hopped over the hood, yanking open the passenger side door so hard, Bella feared he'd tear it from the hinges. Slipping into the driver's side, she quickly adjusted the mirrors and seat before thrusting the keys into the ignition. Edward's fingers drummed his thigh rapidly, his eyes closed as he hummed an unfamiliar tune.
"Where are we going?"
"Start towards my home. It's that way."
"Okay," Bella replied, pulling out onto the main road, "Where are we going?"
"Full circle. It's time."
"Full circle to what?" Bella asked, confused.
His reply sent a chill down her spine:
"Death."
Warning: after chapter 13, this story will be going on hiatus until I wrap up Through The Looking-Glass. It will be a good place to break, trust me.
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The song within the chapter is Breathe (2am) by Anna Nalick. All lyrics copyrighted etc.
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