A/N: I figured chapter 10 might have come as a shock to some of you. Chapter 11 will turn things around, and is set out to tie up some loose ends. I hope you enjoy it, and as always, please leave a review or two to let me know what you think. I hear your thoughts, and can try incorporating them!
A/N2: Update schedule: it is my sincerest intention to update every sunday! Let's see if I can keep that pace up. In addition, I have been thinking of going back to earlier chapters and do some rewriting here and there. What do you guys think about that?
As always, thanks to Lineia and dantemalfoy for providing comments!
Warnings: slash/erotica, BDSM sex fantasies, drama, violence, angst. Yes, it's anything and everything this time!
Chapter 11: A Pup Finds Its Father
Edward's mouth fell open in a stupefied smile out of astonishment. He blinked a few times before he got back to reality, and he uttered: "But, what about Embry?"
"You're right Edward. He'll never satisfy me. You will. Now fuck me. Show me that out of the ashes that is your soul you can rise again. Show me you can return to be the man that took me two weeks ago, the brutal and sadistic beast that fucked me into submission like nobody had ever done. My hole is hot and burning, craving to be cooled by your cold, hard dick."
Edward stared at Jacob with a dumbstruck grin. He could not believe what he was hearing; could not believe the spectacle that was unfolding before his eyes. Jacob, meanwhile, walked towards Edward, but came to a halt about a meter in front of him. He sported a smug smirk. He stood there in all his shirtless glory, eyeing Edward intently.
"Edward, you see this muscular body?" He began. Edward, even though all that was happening got him very excited, nodded rather calmly. He was getting used to being confronted with such beauty, though that by no means diminished his appreciation of it.
"Take a good look at this," he said, as he curled and flexed his powerful biceps. Edward stared at it hungrily.
"And do you see these abs?" Jacob lowered his arms and proudly flexed his abs, causing the chiselled, smoothly curved muscles to be even more expressive than usual.
Once Edward had nodded, staring silently at the muscular splendour in front of him, Jacob relaxed his muscles and walked up to Edward until he was standing right in front of him. His hot breath stroked Edward's neck deceptively when he started speaking, making Edward shudder with intimate pleasure. Their noses nearly touched, making it hard for Edward not to lurch for Jacob's neck. The pulsating veins, the alternately flexing and relaxing sternocleidomastoid muscles, the deliciously sweet smell that came from his aftershave were all so provoking. Edward managed to restrain himself.
"Well, Edward, that powerful exterior which you see is only a husk, waiting to be sadistically torn off and ripped apart by the man who dares stand up to it. Will you be that man, Edward? Will you be the man to tear it off, and reveal the quivering, little boy, who sits fearful in a corner? Fearful to be beaten, but begs for it nonetheless?" Edward merely gulped. Jacob continued.
"It begs to be smacked across the face, thrown down to the floor, so that blood comes down its nose. It wants to be kicked, and then kicked again…." Edward gulped harshly as shards of broken memories became whole again. Jacob kept going.
"…and then, when it thinks it's all over, commanded to its feet by its master, it wants to be grabbed by its collar, smacked across the face and hurled down to the floor again…." After having been mercilessly thrashed by anger, slivers of memories reconfigured, trying to fit together so as to form the complete picture that they once were. Slowly, more and more pieces fit.
"…and when he is down to the floor, he wants to be bound and gagged, kicked and beaten again and again with rough slaps and the whip. And then finally, his Master opens him up with a butt plug and a dildo or two, to prepare his hole for an assault that he will remember for weeks to come. He will be fucked senseless. Fucked harshly but deliciously, so that from all this humiliating pain rises a phoenix, so powerful and so strong that it confounds the small, trembling shadow of what was but a kid. And when he reaches his climax and cums uncontrollably, spurred onward by the beating of his master, he finally finds himself back in that corner; cold, dark, alone…."
Jacob couldn't finish his increasingly exciting monologue. As the last splinters of memories had come together, Edward had been reminded of his deepest pains. He saw the living room of his old home; he saw his mother on the couch and his siblings scattered around the room. He saw his father in front of him. He felt the pangs of fear that preceded the painful blows that were delivered to him. And finally, he remembered how nobody had done anything to help him. How nobody lifted a finger when his father had slapped him, pushed him down to the floor, kicked him repeatedly and finally brutally lurched at his collar and, in a blur, threw him down the steps of the porch. He remembered how he landed on the cold mud of the driveway.
A cannonball shot through Edward's heart at the memories, so that even though Jacob was mid-sentence, Edward couldn't do but run away. He ran out of Jacob's room, through the kitchen, out of the house, and towards the main road. He heard Jacob's masculine voice call for him in the distance, but he couldn't care less about it now. The avalanche of awakened emotions spurred him onwards, and no person could make him stop. He didn't know whereto he was even running, nor did he know why. He only kenw that he needed to get away and be alone.
Then Edward slowed down, his eyes widening in horror as he realized what plan might rid him of the pain that he had been feeling subconsciously for so long. His fists clenched and he grimaced at the thought.
He could kill his father….
Edward woke up in a fit, the dream still stuck in his mind like a fly sticks to glue. Hazily he looked around and remembered that they were at the hospital. Brad and him had taken Jacob to first aid after the car crash, to check whether he had broken or bruised his right arm. There were many people, however, and they had been waiting for a while now after having been referred to a specialized ward. He must have fallen asleep for a few minutes.
He looked sideways, where Jacob was seated. He seemed bored out of his wits, but he looked rather uneasy to. Of course, being in a hospital made nobody particularly happy, but the poor boy seemed lost. Edward remembered the icy silence in the car after Brad had talked about trust, and a pang of fear emerged in Edward's heart: had he lost his bond with Jacob? Had he just thrown out his chance to be happy? His thoughts lingered around those questions, feeling increasingly unnerved and lost. He'd have to find a way to repair their bond if he wanted to continue anything with Jacob, but how do you go about doing something like it? He was tempted to think Go ask your father, but that was an impossibility.
The thought of his father caused Edward to think back to his dream. The notion that killing his father might help him feel better only served to increase his trepidation. Is that what he wanted? Could he even do it? He shook his head in annoyance; he didn't see how he could kill somebody. He'd have to truly despise somebody, and even then the idea of killing seemed as from a different world.
As he mulled over these fresh ideas and questions, he glanced sideways into the corridor, and he saw him: his father. Edward's pupils dilated as his eyes widened in a mix of dread and fear, and feelings of fright and betrayal slowly resurfaced after having been stirred up by the dream.
Fuck… my father is a doctor at this godforsaken hospital.
Edward started feeling increasingly anxious and panicky, his thoughts accelerating with every step that his father took in his direction. He hadn't spotted Edward yet, instead staring intently at medical documents that had been given to him by a nurse. She walked right beside him with a neutral expression on her face, motioning with her hands as she was explaining the details of the records she had handed over.
Edward looked around the waiting room nervously, fidgeting with the hem of his T-shirt. He could feel how cold sweat was starting to break out and roll down his sensitive flanks. Jacob was sitting just to the left of him, and on Jacob's other side sat Brad. He had bought himself a coffee, which he was drinking silently. Both of them looked into the space in front of them, thoughts in a completely different place. They were completely unaware of the approaching danger.
Edward became increasingly fidgety until, finally, he couldn't take the pressure anymore. He stood up hurriedly, so that Jacob and Brad looked at him in surprise. "Anything wrong?" Brad asked calmly, his manly voice resonating satisfyingly in Edward's chest. He looked over to the ward his father was coming down from, unable to hide a glint of panic in his eyes when he saw his white-clothed parent approach. Brad frowned and looked in the direction Edward had looked he could turn back and ask what's wrong though, Edward declared to have to go to the toilet: he started stepping away hastily.
In the meantime, Dr. Cullen had come to a halt at the entrance to the waiting room. He was still staring at the documents while the nurse kept on blabbering. Edward could hear, as he walked away, how she then finally shut up, and walked away. Then he heard the voice of his father, and worry struck him like a dagger to the heart: "Next patient… Jacob Black?"
Fuck
The tiny hairs in his neck righted themselves and he felt sweat break out on his forehead.
Fuckfuckfuck, he'll recognize him!
He stopped and turned around swiftly, just in time to see Brad and Jacob stand up. He watched how his father turned to them and extended his hand, a smile forming on his pale face. Jacob reciprocated the feelings and gestures gladly, it seemed.
Jacob's and his father's eyes met.
His father stopped dead in his tracks.
Jacob stopped in response, looking unsure of himself.
Both their hands were hanging awkwardly in mid-air, not high enough to accept the handshake, but not low enough that the failed attempt at politeness could be brushed off as something else. The smile on his father's face disappeared instantly, while his hand slowly dropped back to a more neutral position. He was now staring fixatedly at. Tiny arteries in his eyes betrayed his father's growing anger and confusion. Edward could only think that he had recognized Jacob as the guy he had kissed with, that night, in front of the house.
The hand that held the medical records loosened, so that the folder fell to the ground. The waiting room's floor turned white as the thick folder hit the floor and the medical documents that it contained spread to all of its corners. Most patient's eyes in the room were now fixed on his father.
After a few moments of silence, he finally spoke; a voice, imbued with anger borne out of humiliation, trembled in a way that Edward remembered from two weeks ago.
"You."
Brad looked increasingly perplexed at the turn of events. Edward could see how he was about to say "Excuse me?" but was rudely cut short by his father, who pointed at Jacob with a trembling hand. The poor boy obviously had no idea what was going on, and the same could be said for Brad; both of them might have heard Edward's and other's stories about his father, but it was obvious they had never actually met his father before. They probably weren't aware that this man was in fact Edward's father.
Edward had no idea what to do. Pangs of panic raced up and down his spine. They grabbed his stomach and intestines, making him nauseous; grabbed his heart, making him tremble in guilt; grabbed his brain, confusing him utterly. As if nailed to the floor, he stood unmoving with eyes wide-open in fear of what might happen if he didn't go and intervene. The memories of the blows that had befallen him at his father's hands, however, caused his instinct to yell at him to not come even one step nearer to his father: the source of all his fear and hurt; the one man that had humiliated and abused him more than anybody had ever done.
Thus contradictory feelings of pain, guilt and fear spread through Edward's mind like fire spreads in a wooden hut; the flames lick the roof angrily before they lurch at it destructively and tear it down completely.
"You are that boy… I recognize you from that evening." Carlisle's hand was trembling with anger as he was seemingly reliving the memories. Edward watched from his position how his father was about to explode, and suddenly he realized something that hadn't crossed his mind before: his father's memory of the event was that of a trauma. The pain he himself felt at being thrown out of his parental home probably equalled the pain his father was living through every single day, knowing his son was that, which his religion so stubbornly rejected. Edward had an epiphany: his father was in as much pain as he was himself.
But that doesn't excuse his acting! A father is supposed to love his children above everything!
Right?
Edward looked on as the scene unfolded before him, still too conflicted between feelings of terror and feelings of responsibility towards Jacob to spring into action.
"You poisonous rat, you who destroyed my family with your disgusting habits and lifestyle!" his father exclaimed, badgering Jacob with his words. He was still pointing at Jacob threateningly, his eyes fiery with wrath and his mouth twisted from anger. Jacob was completely paralyzed with fright; he had no idea where this was coming from, or even who this doctor was or what he wanted from him. "You burn in hell, boy, like that demented son of mine!"
The whole waiting room was now focused on the scene in the doorway. Everybody kept silent as the stream of insults increased in both extremeness and the volume in which Carlisle spoke them. To Edward's astonishment, even Brad, the always so proud and manly man was shut right up by Carlisle's tirade which covered all of gay existence and rights, denouncing them in public for everything that was revolting, disgusting or criminal in ethical, moral or legal sense. Some nurses had also gathered here and there, watching how their beloved and proficient doctor went entirely nuts. Edward could only wonder how this event would be reflected on later. With a bit of luck, he would be kicked out of his job, though he feared the effect on the rest of his family. Why he cared, he didn't know – they hadn't cared for him, had they?
Coming out of his ruminations, he noticed how his father's eyes were red with excitement and his forehead glimmered in the ward's pale lights. A film of sweat had covered it as he was excitedly motioning with his arms and the veins in his neck seemed to be so full of blood that they could pop any minute now. The entire event brought back memories, as the dream he had had just ten minutes before resurfaced. With a resounding "bang" he was back in his parent's house, thrown about and kicked harshly by his father. Tears started to stream down his cheeks at his memories of loss and broken love. For just a day he had felt elated and so happy, and now he was recast back in misery.
Will there be no end to my suffering? Edward asked himself, his mind confounded by increasing amounts of desperation and panic. Right at that moment, when all life seemed to collapse once again right in front of Edward's eyes, it finally happened: Carlisle said one thing too many: "I will not treat such a homosexual slut as you!"
That statement entered Edward's brain and stuck like a splinter in a fleshy foot.
I will not treat such a homosexual slut as you.
The words milled around in Edward's mind, bouncing of the inside of his skull, like bullets ricocheting, endlessly increasing in volume until a few essential words were the only intelligible pieces of information:
Will. Not. Treat. You.
Those words landed on top of the already humongous pile of insults delivered to him by his father. It balanced quietly at the very top for a moment, but didn't stay there; its balance shifting too much to one side, it caused the entire mountain of derogatory statement and insults to topple over. The limit had been reached. Edward erupted inwardly. After all he had endured, this was it; this man had shouted at him countless times, made fun of him and had criticized him his entire life, until finally he had abused him and thrown him out. Edward had seemingly gotten to some kind of terms with those memories but nobody…
…Nobody...
…refuses Jacob. His Jacob. Jacob, the guy that showed him a new life once, and had given him back that life twice, once in thought and once for real. Edward was not going to give up on it now. To hell with fright. To hell with fear. To hell with terror, and to hell with helplessness. He was Edward, and he was proud of being the gay, domineering sadist that he was – he would be all that and more for Jacob. And nobody, certainly not his beloved father, would stand in the way.
Jacob
The name alone made shivers of happiness run up and down Edward's body. Edward snapped out of his panicky trance. He resurfaced anew, reborn out of the dreaded fear that had grasped him over the past few minutes and had him bound and gagged, using his own anxiety as his prison. Now, finally, the world came back to Edward, imbued with a new sense of responsibility – towards himself, but first and foremost towards Jacob.
He saw how his father made to turn around and pace away angrily. Brad seemingly also snapped back to reality, having stared at the smaller man with eyes wide in surprise, too dumbstruck to say anything. Now that the shouting was over, he came back to life, but only very slowly. He turned to Carlisle and was about to say "Excuse me?" like before, but he was too slow. Jacob was still affixed to the floor, and was watching how Carlisle had turned and paced away, eyes still wide and wet with surprise.
Carlisle was already some meters away from them when Edward started pacing hurriedly in his direction, each step thundering on the cold linoleum hospital floor. With every step he took he felt his anger grow. A newfound determination had sparked and enflamed his heart, which was now beating excitedly at the prospect of making his father submit to his wrath. With every step, also his determination increased.
"He could kill his father."
The last seconds of his dream came back to him as his eyes narrowed and his expression darkened. He felt how his hands itched with excitement, craving to beat down and break something.
Edward paced faster and faster towards his father. Nothing else in the world existed at the moment beside he himself, his father, and his itching fist. Edward was guided to his parent as if he was on a path of light that led him straight to his father's jaw; the rest of the world was made invisible, darkened by an impenetrable shadow. He vaguely heard an alarmed Brad call his name, a faint "what are you doing, Edward!" following him from behind. A shallow "Ed?" coming his way from the manly voice of Jacob…
Jacob
The thought of his light-brown coloured god only served the purpose of making him more determined to show his father what's what. The memory of how his father had shouted and refused to treat Jacob further provoked him, like throwing petrol on an already blazing fire. Patients in the waiting room now had all their eyes on him as he made his way into the ward, pushing away nurses that gaped at him in astonishment.
Edward's senses entered a vacuum as he closed in and prepared himself for attack. He felt his heart beating furiously in his chest; he heard the thuds of his boots on the hospital floor; he saw the back of his father's head getting closer all the time. The triangle of stimuli swallowed him whole as he let rage grab a good hold of his mind, drowning out all other senses.
He started raising his fist as he quickly closed in the dreaded doctor. He was only two meters away from his father when he called for him: "father!" he bellowed loudly and decisively, his eyes radiating complete wrath and hopeless anger that could only end in pain. Nurses and patients watched in horror as they saw father and son reunited after more than two weeks.
His father turned at the sound of his son's voice. In shock he looked around as he slowed his pacing. Right when they made their first eye contact in a while, Edward's strong right fist hit his father's jaw with a speed and accuracy that shocked Brad, Jacob and all the other onlookers. A satisfying crackle emerged from the jaw, together with a pathetic whimper that didn't at all sound like his father's voice, which was normally so strong and authoritative.
Then it was silent for a moment. Still in the enduring sensory vacuum that drowned out all but a select set of stimuli, Edward witnessed how his father stumbled backwards in silence. He hit a wall, tripped over a stool and fell down, landing harshly on his back. He grimaced with the lightning pain that shot up from where his aging body hit the floor.
Edward was seething with anger; he didn't hear how his father panted, or how he whimpered with pain. He didn't hear how nurses had broken down in panicked chatter, or how one of them had ran to call for a guard, nor did he pay any attention to the patients – Brad and Jacob among them – that gaped and discussed the spectacle in the ward among themselves.
No, for Edward only one thing counted: to get even with his father. He was lying about four meters away from him, in the middle of the hospital's hallway. He had rolled there awkwardly after having tripped over the stool, clutching his jaw while wincing from the throbbing sensation that served as a reminder of his son's fist.
Slowly but surely Edward started in the direction of his father, who had now realized that his attacker was, in fact, his son. He stared at him with bewilderment that was slowly turning into anger, as he understood what his flesh and blood had done to him. Edward noticed however that his father was not entirely sure of himself. For the first time ever, his father's iron resilience faltered. A sadistic smile curled Edward's lips as he kept approaching his victim.
Edward stared into those dark eyes, set in that pale face, and he saw shimmers of fear. It reminded him of Jacob's fear and how delicious he had found that, though this was different: the current surges of sadistic pleasure that Edward felt, were from a very different origin. While previously they had been sexual, his current sadistic streak arose from the wish to terrorize as a result of incredible fury and hate towards this pathetic little man that dared call himself his "father".
As these thoughts increasingly forced themselves upon Edward's with hate intoxicated mind, Carlisle had lost the bewildered expression on his face. Instead it had turned to full-blown fear: he recognized the anger on his son's face and had seen the tightly clenched fist. While these things were frightening in and of themselves, what he feared the most was the determination and focus with which his son was walking towards him. His son's face was dark with rage as his closing steps echoed in Carlisle's mind.
"That is for treating Jacob the way you did, father." Edward spoke calmly and quietly, but with an undertone so dark and sinister that it made his father tremble with axiety.
At one meter away from him, Edward once again spoke, stopping briefly before continuing on his path to his father's stomach. "And this, my father, is for what you did to me."
As soon as Carlisle heard that, he tried to crawl backwards, awkwardly dragging his feet along with his aching torso. Fear and panic were carved into his pale face and his eyes were wide with fright at the sight of his son closing in on him. It was to no avail: his son inched closer. He stood upright proudly, clearly enjoying the fact that he had such control over his father after fearing him for so long: his face sported a glimmer of satisfaction as his lips kept an iron grip on the weak smile that had formed previously. That grip didn't last much longer, though. Suddenly Edward's lips uncurled and locked into a crazed expression of hate.
He lashed out with his foot and hit his father in the stomach with as much force as he could muster.
His father cried in agony at the impact of Edward's boot against his stomach and intestines.
Edward was panting with the release of such anger and frustration. He silently looked at the mess that was his father, who had curled up into a foetus position and was gasping for air. It reminded him of how he himself must have looked on that dreaded night, at his parent's house.
With the majority of his fury now released, he slowly emerged from the sensory vacuum that had possessed him throughout the climax of his wrath. New sounds trickled into his consciousness when suddenly he was grabbed roughly from behind. In confusion he struggled against the hands that held his arms firmly behind his back.
"Come with me sir and you'll be fine. Now move it." A demanding voice ordered from behind. Then Brad and Jacob appeared at his sides. Brad looked utterly shocked and Jacob's eyes were wet; he had been shedding tears, apparently.
I wonder why….
Damp trails that no doubt would prove to be salty ran from Jacob's eyes down to his chin. A tear was still dangling from his male jaws, dancing around, a slave to the bobbing of Jacob's head as he and Brad accompanied Edward and the security guard down the hallway.
"My god, Edward…" Jacob started, sounding both perplexed and amazed. His expression was a mix of worry and gratitude. "I heard what you said after you hit the doctor; we all heard."
Jacob's head drooped and he sighed briefly. He then resumed in a quieter voice: "The first punch you gave him – you gave it in my name."
Jacob got teary-eyed once again as he looked at Edward. Brad was listening attentively. His eyes widened and a vague smile formed under his beard when he heard Jacob's words. Jacob continued: "No matter the hurt he caused you, the way he abused you… God Edward, the story you told me back in the diner – and still your first punch was to avenge the way he treated me. Me."
Edward wanted to say something, but they reached a small office and Edward was pushed into it roughly, while the voice behind him barked at Brad and Jacob to stay outside. The door slammed shut behind Edward as he heard Jacob calling his name one final time, before he found himself dumped onto a chair in front of a desk. His captor finally revealed himself to him as he let his arms go and walked over to the other side of the desk. A burly security guard stood in front of him. He took a seat in a lush, leather chair. Edward looked at the door, which had a window in it. Written in mirrored letters, it said "security" on the outside of the door. Outside he could also see Jacob pacing back and forth worriedly. Edward gulped at the sight and felt how guilt emerged from the depth of his being and embraced his heart at the sight of his friend.
"So what the hell did you think you were doing?" The security guard asked, yanking Edward back to reality. He was still a bit dazed by the adrenaline rush subsiding, making him feel fatigued. Also, his fist hurt quite a bit. In action movies the punching always seemed so painless….
Edward looked at the guard sheepishly. "I was hitting my father, officer."
The guard pulled up an eyebrow at that answer. It evidently wasn't what he had been expecting. "You were what? You were hitting your father? That was your father? Dr. Cullen?" Edward nodded in annoyance. Geez this guy is slow.
"And why were you hitting your father?" He still had that eyebrow pulled up, his face a mix of curiosity and confusion. Edward sighed and looked at the floor briefly before answering. "That is a long story. I'm not sure if you want to hear it all."
The guard merely folded his arms and leaned back in his chair, which creaked noisily. He remained silent for a moment, clearly trying to come up with a wise-ass rebuttal. "Well, I'm afraid you'll have to spill it for your own good. Just give a summary. If you don't, you might lose a court case. At least, you do realize your father might press charges, don't you?"
Edward chuckled at that thought, which angered the guard. "What's so funny?" he retorted, annoyed at Edward's pleasure, which seemed to be at his expense. Edward stopped chuckling but retained a hearty smirk that spread his lips triumphantly. "I don't think he'll have the guts to do so, and if he has, he's not only the most barbaric father that walked the earth, he'd also be the stupidest one."
The guard seemed really confused now, as his answer to Edward's brief explanation made all to clear: "Huh?". He gaped at Edward for a moment before he recollected himself.
"Listen punk, you need to start talking. All this sounds disturbing and very wrong to me, and I need to know what's going on! Otherwise I'll just charge you with wasting police time and you'll risk going to jail. Is that what you want?" The guard's expression was authoritative and his words had been delivered confidently and resolutely.
Edward responded with an annoyed "fine", before giving a short account of what had transpired in the Cullen mansion over two weeks ago. The guard visibly switched between several emotions as Edward lay open his heart to him; the words struck hard and deep, so much was obvious.
At the end of his tale, both of them remained silent. The guard cupped his chin, as if lost in deep thought. After a few moments of staring at Edward intently like that, he sighed and relaxed, letting his hands rest on the arm rests of the chair. "Right, I think I know what to do. Do you have any bruises or injuries left from that evening?"
Edward didn't take very long to pull his shirt up, where several bruises followed the lines of his ribs. The guard shook his head at the sight. "You stay here." He said, and got up. He went through the door, which he locked behind him. Edward stared through the small window in the door, where he saw the guard talking to Brad; Jacob was absent.
He is probably getting his arm looked at, Edward thought, hoping that Jacob would be okay. Meanwhile he kept watching Brad and the guard.
The guard seemed shocked at the things that Brad was telling him. Perhaps the guard was looking for witnesses, or people that could corroborate his story? They didn't stay together for long, though, as Edward could see. The guard left, leaving Brad alone who promptly went to the door. He looked sideways and Edward noticed how the door started rattling. Brad was trying to open it, but without much success. He then looked through the window, and tried to say something; as the voice was muffled, it was difficult to hear what exactly he was trying to say. He held up a thumb though, so Edward guessed he was trying to make him feel better. Edward merely smiled in response.
Suddenly Brad looked sideways again and hurriedly left the door. The guard appeared and unlocked the door, stepping inside in the company of a doctor. "Edward, this is Dr. Jackson. I asked him to examine your bruises." Edward nodded and took his shirt off, waiting for the doctor to start his inspection. The latter crouched beside Edward and stared at the purple marks on Edward's chest and abdominals. Finally he prodded them and pinched them lightly, which caused Edward to wince.
The doctor looked up at him. "Still painful, is it?" Edward nodded meekly. The guard leaned onto the table, and stared at the both of them. "So Doc, what do you think? Is this presentable evidence?"
The doctor cupped his chin and thought for a moment before speaking. He was choosing his words very carefully, it seemed. As he started talking, he kept eyeing the bruises intently.
"I won't lie to either of you; it's difficult. The car crash left some marks of its own, but these can be easily recognized as being fresh. Similarly, these older bruises can be recognized as being old, but it's harder to tell exactly how old they are. They could indeed be about two weeks old in my professional opinion." Edward noticed how the guard smiled at that. Dr. Jackson noticed it too. "Don't get your hopes up, though. I'm sure others could argue that they are not that old, so that they could have been sustained in a different manner. General clumsiness, perhaps."
"Oh come on!" Edward immediately retorted. The guard hushed him to be silent, and turned his attention back to the doctor. "So, do we have a presentable case or not?"
The doctor thought again for a few moments. Finally the Doctor's final words came: "It's risky, but I think you do". The guard sighed in relief and looked over to Edward with a stern face before looking back at the doctor.
"Thank you doctor, for your help." The doctor nodded curtly and left, at which point the guard shifted his gaze back to Edward. "Right Edward, here's what I'm going to do. First I'll take some pictures. Keep that shirt held up high for me, will you?"
The guard proceeded to take a camera from a drawer of his desk, and crouched beside Edward. The recorded click-sounds that were supposed to make the digital camera sound like a professional reflex camera were hollow and cheap. But, it got the job done, and soon a set of photos was logged in a new file that the guard kept on his computer. The guard stayed seated as he returned his attention to Edward.
"Okay Edward, now I'm going to talk to your father. While I'm away, I will leave the door open. I trust you will stay here. Brad, who I understand has taken you in together with his wife, will be allowed entry. The same applies to your friend, Jacob. I will be back shortly." Edward nodded and smiled, uttering a weak "thank you" at the supportive words of the guard. He then left, closing the door but leaving it unlocked. Through the window Edward could see how the guard looked sideways, nodded and briefly gestured at the door. Soon afterwards the door slammed open and Brad hurried in, closing the door behind him again. He rushed over to Edward and crouched in front of him.
"Edward, how are you? Are you okay?" He spoke quickly and his face betrayed intense worry. Edward could only smile at that – at the fact that somebody was so worried about him.
"I'm okay. The guard said he was going to talk to dad. I think he's convinced of the story I told him." Brad relaxed instantly, looking highly relieved by the news. "And what about that doctor? What did he have to say?" Brad asked, still with an undertone of worry as he frowned. Edward gave an account of the doctor's examination. When he finished, Brad could not suppress a smile from brightening his, until then, moody disposition.
Now that Edward felt that Brad knew enough, he had to sate his own worry: "Brad, where is Jacob? Are they examining him?" Brad nodded, the smile still adorning his bearded face. "They took him in shortly after the guard stuffed you into this office. A doctor came to me a short while ago, though, to say that he only bruised his arm. It should heal pretty soon, but they are bandaging it and taping it in, just to be on the safe side. He should be released from the hospital very soon, probably around the same time that the guard will release you." Edward smiled at the news; he felt optimistic for the first time in a while.
"You know," Brad continued, "you shocked us both in that waiting room, but of the two of us, you shocked Jacob the most." He smiled sheepishly and looked down at the floor. "Angela and I suspected you were a strong-willed character, who wouldn't let others throw him about just like that. We saw how you healed yourself, and how you managed to cope with the insults that you had endured. We were, and still are, very proud of you. To see you take your revenge like that – for me it was a dream come true, to be honest." He looked back up at Edward and smiled. "For Jacob, however, it was shocking."
Brad stood up and walked to the office's only window and stood in front of it, peering outside before turning around. Edward looked at him, but the sun caused Brad to be nothing more but a black silhouette against a light background.
"You have a darker side, Edward. You might want to consider what it means and how to contain it. Even if I approve of the blows you gave your father, it's not something you can do at random to people you dislike. You know that, right?"
What had started as a nice pep talk was now turning into an annoyance. Edward nodded in growing irritation, and waved away Brad's worries. "How does any of this relate to Jacob?" He promptly asked.
Brad coughed and cleared his throat. "The point is this. Jacob was blown away by the fact that you hit your father in his name first, before kicking him in your own name later. It deeply impressed him. I think he feels that it shows how much you care for him. I heard what he said to you when that guard led you away; I heard the adoration in his voice. You know, he lost faith after the accident, it was written all over his face. His trust was wavering, but that bold action of yours seems to have mended things somewhat. At least, that's my interpretation." Brad shifted to lean on another leg as he acquired a more comfortable position to stand in, folding his arms in the meantime.
"I just want you to be careful, if things go further between the two of you. As physically strong as Jacob looks, a muscular body isn't always accompanied by a strong mind. To me he seems rather impressionable. Breakable even, if handled too roughly by the right person. So, be careful with him, will you? For both your sakes."
When Brad had finished speaking, the door creaked open. Both of them looked up from their conversation to stare at the opening door. The guard re-entered, smiling. "I spoke to your father, Edward. I doubt he'll cause problems for you. For as far as I'm concerned, you are free to go." Both of them smiled in response and made to leave, thanking the guard for his help. "It was my pleasure." He answered, a satisfied grin decorating his face.
They exited the cramped office, and closed the door behind them. They stood around awkwardly for a minute, not knowing what to say or where to look, when Edward spotted Jacob walking down the hallway somewhat confidently. Instantly his mood brightened and his heart surged with renewed vigour at the sight of his friend. He sported a grin that increasingly grew in size the closer he came to Edward.
When Jacob was getting close, Edward made slow steps toward Jacob. Finally, they connected in an embrace. The hugged each other long and fervently, until Brad tapped them on the shoulder.
"Guys, you're being very cute, but I think we ought to go home. I'll drive you guys back."
Brad turned around and started in the direction of the exit. Soon he stopped short to look back and see whether the two teenagers made to join him. They had disconnected and were staring at each other wide-eyed and in a trance that lasted for a minute. They broke away from it when Edward started smiling. He held a hand around Jacob's waist and guided him toward Brad. Together the two of them strolled down the well-lit hospital hallway, Jacob locked in Edward's embrace, featuring smiles and eyes filled with satisfaction. As they reached the hospital's main entrance and the evening sun stroked their cheeks, Brad went to fetch the car. Soon he came rolling down the driveway and stopped in front of the two guys. Edward opened the backseat door and looked at Jacob lovingly.
"Come on my pup, time to go back to the reservation".
