A/N – STOP! before you read this, you need to go back and re-read the end of the last chapter or else this wont really make sense.
And to make the above comment make sense: I redid most of the last chapter from about half way down – but you only really need to read the bit from Edward's point of view onwards because that's where the biggest change is.
And to make the quality of the chapter below make sense: I feel really crappy right now so I'm just gonna publish this and then maybe come back to it in a few days once my moods rights itself and this chapter stops hanging over my head.
Maybe I'll even write a futuretake if there's enough interest and enough inspiration.
Chapter 11 – crapiness
Edward's pov
Over the next two days, I was allowed to wear something other than the hospital gown while lounging around on the bed – which made me feel a hell of a lot better. Bella and a couple of her friends stuck around but the other two went back to wherever it was that they came from to do paper work, the ones who stayed were called Alice and Jasper. We hadn't got round to telling my mum and dad who they were yet, and Bella still hadn't directly confirmed my suspicions either. I wanted to confront her, but there was always someone else there, I just couldn't find the moment to bring it up.
I also made everyone leave when the nurse came redress my wounds; seeing them – especially now while both the physical and emotional was so fresh – would have shattered Carlisle and especially Esme... as would letting Bella stay, even if she had already seen my scars. So I made no contradictory comment when the nurse started ushering everyone out.
Luckily I hadn't got any infection and the two cuts on my chest would leave minimal scarring, if it wasn't for my back – which I still had yet to see properly – I wouldn't have been self conscious about taking my top off. As it was, at least I wouldn't have to see a reminder in the mirror everyday.
By the third day in hospital, all the wounds on my back had sealed, and I no longer needed a bandage around me, I only needed the butterfly stitches over the two most recent cuts on my chest. Even I still hadn't seen my back. I didn't want to.
My family came back in looking extraordinarily happy. "What?" I asked.
Carlisle replied, "We've just been told you are fit to come home, you had been for a while as most of your injuries were superficial lacerations so the only real concern was blood loss and infection. The only reason they kept you in for so long was because of me."
"So, whenever you want to go, just say the word..." Esme contributed excitedly.
I smiled, "The sooner the better."
Both my parents beamed back at me and arrangements were quickly made for me to go home. Everyone could hardly wait, the excitement in the room was palpable and I found myself laughing along with everyone, my concerns and doubts regarding Bella and my mental health were completely, if temporarily, forgotten.
I sat in the back of the car with Esme next to me, holding my hand. I occasionally had to squeeze it when her hold got too tight. She would always smile apologetically and loosen her hold, but still keep a firm grip on my hand; I would always smile back so she knew I understood and didn't blame her at all.
It was still morning when we got home, but that didn't stop Esme from cooking a huge dinner for everyone. Disappointingly, I was full long before I wanted to be, my weeks of starvation in captivity had shrunk my stomach and I would have to build up my appetite again... and my muscles, I'd gone soft while I was in there. Esme was giddy with having me home, so much so that she didn't even notice that I'd left half of my food on my plate.
After dinner, I went upstairs to my room. Being back... it was like heaven.
I felt a smile break across my face as I literally launched myself onto my bed and curled up in the covers, inhaling the clean, fresh scent of home, revelling in it instead of the rank musty smell I'd had to endure for the last three weeks. I fell asleep like that, fully clothed, in my own bed and with a full stomach. This wasn't just like heaven, it was heaven.
Waking up, I shouldn't have been surprised to find my shoes and shirt removed and myself tucked under the covers. I allowed myself a small smile before I rolled gently of bed and made my way downstairs to the kitchen, the source of the smell that had led me there – Esme's cooking.
I stood undetected in the doorway for a moment, appreciating the warm, homely sight before walking forwards and sitting down at the table.
Esme spun around, spatula in hand and a huge, excited smile on her face, "Edward! Here, have some pancakes – I've even got honey and strawberries to go with them." She bustled about a little bit before placing a plate of pancakes and some toppings in front of me, "Bells and her friends are still in town for a few days, before they have to get going – such a coincidence them arriving when they did – but I'm thankful that they did..." she sighed softly, thoughtfully and sat down in the chair next to me, her eyes still fixated on her memories or imaginings.
I clasped my hand around hers in what was hopefully a comforting way and rubbed my thumb over her knuckles, "Hey," I said in my lowest voice, "I'm here now. I'm alright, there's nothing to be afraid of any more..." I shuffled my chair closer to hers and wrapped my arms around her, "It's ok now; everything's good again."
Esme wrapped her arms around me and cried onto my shoulder, it occurred to me that she seemed to be always crying now – at every little thing! I frowned as the realisation caused worry to bud within me. It was blatantly clear that Esme had been deeply affected by this – I had known it would be so from the first chance I got to think properly – but I hadn't imagined it would be this bad... if she didn't calm down in the next couple of days, then I would go to Carlisle with my worries and possibly suggest therapy.
For now, I resolved to just pat her on the back and offer my comforts and reassurances... keep her aware of my presence. I smiled, I could do that by playing the piano.
"I'm going to shower," I announced as I stood up, put my plate and cutlery in the dishwasher then proceeded to climb the stairs. I showered relatively quickly then made my way downstairs to play the piano and work on finishing the tune; I decided it was going to be a lullaby. Of course the tune was a bit stilted from my left had being partially incapacitated and all.
I sighed frustratedly and let my head fall onto the top of the piano, leaving it there and trying to clear my mind and calm myself back down.
Hearing the doorbell, I decided that the piano could wait and went to greet Seth, Ben and Angela – I was almost certain it was them. Turned out I was right and we spent the majority of what was left of the day lounging around in the living room with films, popcorn and blankets.
It didn't even occur to me, until I was falling asleep that night that Bella never came round.
But I did notice Esme get all weepy and teary-eyed whenever she looked at me – my earlier revelation about Esme, or maybe all of us, needing therapy was becoming more and more probable.
The next day started off in much the same way and by eleven I was getting worried that she wasn't going to come back. The thought left me feeling like a hopeless princess waiting for her prince to come rescue her. But the day passed with still no sign of Bella and the ones after came and went with also no sign of her.
I suggested to Carlisle that we try therapy, to which he reluctantly agreed with me, and tried to put Bella out of my mind. Something inside had been telling me, ever since waking up and seeing her for the first time in hospital, that she wouldn't stick around for long.
I just had to get out of my head the image of her glassy eyes as I told her I loved her...
I just had to get out of my head the sound of her voice as she told me that she loved me too...
Of course after a few days the others started to notice that Bella had mysteriously disappeared, some of them were sad, some of them wistful, some affronted... but lucky me I was the one who fell in love with her, I was the only one who was broken hearted.
Day four of my 'recovery' at home and mum had a panic attack when I went to the bathroom and she couldn't find me for ten minutes. Carlisle really had no choice but to actually phone a therapist then. Three days later – one week after I had been home – we went to our first therapy session.
It was one and a half hours of hysterical tears... and that was just discussing how the whole thing had effected us, god help us when it comes to actually talking about the event itself! But we were each told to come twice a week, once for a family session and once on our own. He also told Esme that he would probably have to see her for two hours in the individual appointment whereas me and Carlisle only had to have one hour individual appointments.
Esme tearfully nodded from behind her tissue and said that it was probably for the best.
For the most part, my therapy went well – I managed to get over most of the physical stuff they did to me fairly easily, according to the therapist, it was just the emotional stuff, mostly regarding Bella. There were so many conflicting emotions where she was concerned: love, anger, abandonment, longing, confusion, hope, rejection...
Disbelief. I just couldn't believe she hadn't even said goodbye.
And then there was the guilt I felt over being kidnapped and causing everyone at home pain... so much guilt.
At times it was crushing.
But by the end of the summer I was ready to move on, I was ready to go to Dartmouth and get my medical degree. Esme was still having trouble letting go and she almost made Carlisle move across the country for me. But I managed to convince her not to make any drastic decisions with the bait that I would call everyday.
That lasted until four weeks after I went back to Dartmouth after the Christmas holidays. But I still texted her everyday.
Carlisle said he thought the distance was helping.
But it was three weeks into my second year... the day that flipped my world once again.
I hadn't moved from my place in the middle of the door-frame, "What are you doing here?" I asked coldly. Some part of me still loved her... and that same part also resented her.
She shifted uneasily on my bed, where she was sitting, uninvited. "I'm sorry."
"For what, Bella?" I said harshly as I dropped my stuff on the desk, the other side of the room, keeping my back to her as I unloaded my bag with shaky hands, "For making me think you loved me? For using me? For leaving without even saying goodbye?" my voice had grown weak by the end of my speech and my hands had moved on to untieing that fucking friendship bracelet.
"For everything," she whispered, placing a hand gently on my shoulder.
I shrugged her off and turned around in one move, holding out the friendship bracelet for her, ignoring my blurry vision. "There you go." I croaked, "It obviously doesn't mean anything so why should I keep it?"
Her eyes widened and filled with tears as she looked at it, not making a move to take it – I couldn't be bothered with her shit – nor did I have the time for it – so I just let it drop at her feet and turned around to continue filing my notes from the day. I felt strangely on edge with her there, in the room with me.
"Of course it means something Edward," I heard her meek voice behind me.
"Well, you could have fooled me."
"How could I have stayed with you? I'm sure you guessed I'm a spy – I kill people, its my job. And then there's you, in medical school! And a vegetarian! Why would you wanna be with me? You had your family and friends, you were happy! I couldn't destroy all that! You would surely have rejected me!" she shouted at me, as if it was my fault. "It just seemed better to me if I left and you never had to see me again."
I whirled on her enraged, "You never even gave me the chance!" I shouted, "So that's your excuse? That's your fucking excuse? The reason you just disappeared for over a year, without any contact whatsoever. It was because you were afraid? Of rejection? You obviously must have thought those meant nothing then!" I pointed to the bracelet on her wrist and the one she had picked up from the floor, "God Bella, you just... don't know, do you?"
"Know what?" she asked, seeming afraid of the answer.
"That the hardest part of my therapy afterwards, the shit that took the longest to get over... it was you disappearing without a single word! Not the whipping, not the electric shocks, not the fucking burning... just you." I shook my head and turned away from her shame filled face once again, "For the longest time I held out hope that you would come back, call, get in touch or something! …But you never did.
"You just turned your back and walked away," the catharsis was a huge relief and I would be moderately satisfied if I could just get closure from this.
At least it looked like she felt bed for what she had done.
I took a deep breath; realising that she needed to know I meant business and that she couldn't just pull that disappearing shit on me again, I wasn't a toy she could throw away when it suited her, I turned and looked her in the eyes. I spoke with a strong, calm voice "So what do you want? Why did you come here?"
"I came here to try my chances."
"Try your chances at what?" I asked with black suspicion.
"At winning you back. All those things I said in that cell – they were true. It nearly killed me to leave you, I know that when it comes to my own personal feelings, I'm a coward; but I'm now apologising for my awful behaviour and asking if you could ever forgive me... and if you could ever want me after I abandoned you like that?" she asked uncertainly, cautiously approaching me as if she thought I could lash out at any minute. "To tell you the truth, I've been a lousy spy since I left you – looks like I need you," she said wistfully while looking around my room.
I sighed, no matter how deeply she hurt me, it wasn't as deep as my love for her. I sat down on my bed and prepared for the long talk that we would have to have about trust, respect and whether we could work the whole long-distance thingy.
We stayed up until three AM talking about how our relationship would work – admittedly I was a little hesitant to bare my soul – but by the end of it, I had made sure Bella knew she couldn't pull a stunt like that again and that talking would be vital.
Following my own scolding, when the hour was reasonable, I phoned home and discussed going into Bella's business with her friends. Of course I had to stretch the truth around what their business actually was, and I was met with a fair bit of resistance – especially from Esme but in the end they told me that it was my life, my education and always my choice.
Alice and Jasper were officially the oddest couple in the history of the world; and Emmett – I discovered at roughly the same time – was a complete man-child. Rosalie was strong willed and professional – until you get to know her, then she's a bunch of laughs like everyone else... I could see myself fitting in with them.
On hearing what went down with me and Bella they were immediately on board and put me through training and three months later I was an official spy, working as part of the team, for the government.
Over time I added to my collection of scars and we eventually compared them and had an unofficial competition on how impressive the stories for each scar were.
I was happy.
I kept in touch with Esme and Carlisle, which kept them happy.
And I didn't screw up big-time in my new career, which kept the team happy!
Plus, Victoria and James got twenty years imprisonment which kept them very unhappy.
For the first time, it felt like my life was going in the direction it should – I was committed to Bella and she to me and there was no danger of kids in the near future – spying wasn't a world they could be brought up in and neither of us wanted to see anyone get put in a care home, let alone our child.
And no, we didn't get married. We decided we didn't need a ceremony to tell us we belonged to each other and the rings would definitely do nothing more than get in the way.
