A/N: All of your questions about Mike and E's family will eventually be answered. Trust.
Alice was brushing her hair.
Renee used to do this for her when she was very little. Of course, as a result, there were numerous pictures of her as a small child with absurd hairdos.
Bella stared down at her hands.
When her parents died, there had been the usual array of people waiting to comfort her with platitudes. Daughter of a preacher, Angela had frequently reminded Bella that her parents were with her, watching and guiding her from heaven.
Watching her...
Charlie had kept his thoughts on religion quiet, and Renee had explored a new religion every month, it seemed. Bella had taken Angela's comments for exactly what they were: an attempt to console her. Faith just wasn't something Bella ever dwelled on.
But ever since this thing had happened to her, she'd occasionally wondered if Angela was right - her parents were watching.
If they'd seen...
"You've gone clammy on me," Alice said softly, cupping her cheek.
Bella batted her hand away, trying to stave off the anxiety attack, trying not to feel hishands on her.
Alice moved around her so she was in front of Bella and knelt so her presence didn't loom. "Tell me what you need," she said softly.
"Does your Mom still have panic attacks?" Bella blurted, needing a distraction more than anything else.
"Every once in awhile," Alice said calmly.
"Great," Bella muttered, though she appreciated the young woman's honesty.
"Honestly, Bella, by the time I was cognizant, I don't remember her as being traumatized at all." Her smile was sad. "It's only been the last few years that I've recognized certain things. She's a little clingier even than most parents. Drove me nuts when I was thirteen, but that's what moms are supposed to do when you're that age, right?"
Bella nodded. Her lungs were beginning to loosen slightly.
"I'm not going to tell you our lives have been without complication because of everything that happened, but I was never without love. She is a great Mom, and my dad is a great dad." She made a face. "And Edward is a pain in the ass, protective big brother."
The corner of Bella's mouth actually lifted. "So the protective thing isn't my imagination."
"No. That's just Edward. He tends to be very protective of anyone he cares about."
Bella frowned again, wrapping her arms around her shoulders. With a shake of her head, she tried to dismiss her anxiety about Edward and how much he seemed to care about her - a virtual stranger. She'd been over and over this point with herself, with her friends, and with Edward himself. She'd made the decision to trust him.
Now if only her psyche would get in line.
Going over the conversation in her head again, searching for another distraction, Bella picked out another interesting tidbit. "When you say your father..." she hedged uncomfortably.
For a second, Alice looked confused. "Oh!" she exclaimed when she figured out what Bella was asking. "The only man I will ever call my father is Carlisle Cullen."
It was obviously a touchy subject. Without emotion, Bella reflected that she never would have been so tactless in the past. Now, she couldn't seem to dredge up enough energy to care.
"I'm sorry," she said perfunctorily.
Alice took a deep breath. "No, it's okay. Some people just make nasty assumptions about my Dad. It hurts him a lot, so I get defensive sometimes. Mom decided to keep me and that was that. I was his daughter from the minute they found out about me."
Bella hummed, considering this. Personally, the mere thought of having her would-be-murderer's baby growing inside her left Bella's blood cold. She didn't think she would have been able to keep the baby if she'd gotten pregnant. Not only had Esme obviously kept Alice, but she and her husband had raised her, loved her, cherished her as a child deserved to be treated. It gave Bella some measure of hope. If Esme Cullen and her family could not only get past what had happened to her but raise the child created not out of love but of torment as one of their own, maybe there was reason to believe things could get better for her.
~0~
When Bella got ready for her date with Mike, she'd been a little nervous. First dates were always a little nerve wracking.
It struck her as monumentally unfair. Completely naive to just how dangerous an innocuous-looking blond man could be, Bella had only had a smattering of butterflies as she dressed and brushed out her hair. For Edward, who'd devoted nearly every night of the last few weeks to her comfort, Bella's stomach was twisting like a towel being wrung.
She sat by the window while Rosalie, Emmett, and Angela busied themselves in the kitchen. They were watching her, she knew, but her eyes were trained outside, watching each passing stranger. It was a little early, but she thought he might be the kind to be early.
There was someone leaning against the lamppost she'd told him to be at. This bothered her irrationally. He'd been there since she sat down fifteen minutes before.
Since she'd been staring at him for so long, it occurred to Bella the irritating stranger was quite handsome. In the fifteen minutes she'd been watching, he'd made an absolute disaster area of his hair. If she could still find things funny, it might have amused her. But as it was, he was standing in Edward's spot.
The stranger pulled out a cell phone, staring at it. He had done that several times, but as far as Bella could see, he hadn't interacted with the thing. Checking the time, maybe?
A thought occurred to Bella and she sat up straighter, feeling like an idiot.
This stranger wasn't in Edward's spot at all... he was Edward.
Instantly, Bella tried to match his looks to the rich voice on the other end of the phone. It wasn't a bad fit at all. She reached for her phone and dialed, biting into her bottom lip as her mouth went dry, the lump in her throat rising to its accustomed place.
Sure enough, the man outside seemed a little startled as he stared at his phone. He connected and brought it to his ear.
"Hello?"
Bella couldn't speak. Very suddenly, she was interacting not with some faceless stranger, but with the man who stood right across the street from where she was. True there were three stories and a street between them, but he was close.
The thrill of fear ran through her blood, spreading with every heartbeat.
Outside, he ran his hand through his hair again and rubbed the back of his neck. "Bella?"
Funny, when she bothered to imagine what he might be doing when she called, she always thought he might have actually been annoyed when she did this - called without speaking. Instead, though she couldn't be sure because of the distance, it looked like he was merely concerned.
"Do you want me to talk?" he asked.
She could hear the sound of the traffic outside. All the people.
It was difficult to breathe.
He looked up toward the building, and Bella shrank back. Though she was fairly certain he couldn't see her from here, she felt the need to hide anyway. His eyes, as he glanced up, didn't search though. It was as though he was merely focusing on the building.
"Do you want me to leave?" his voice was quiet, unassuming.
Bella looked at him again, trying to take deep, calming breaths.
Was he really so frightening? The idea of him was scary, that was true. As she watched, he began to pace a little, oblivious to the people on the sidewalk who passed him warily. His expression was intent, focused, his phone held to his ear with the entire palm of his right hand and his left hand clamped over his other ear to minimize the noise.
To concentrate on her.
She heard him exhale - the sound quiet. "I'll go. Don't worry."
Panic ripped through her again, but this time it wasn't fear. "N-no." The word came out of her unbidden.
Outside, Edward halted in his tracks.
Bella took a deep breath, wetting her lips. "Don't go," she said in a whisper. "Just... just hold on a second."
"Okay. I'm here," he said quietly.
Rosalie calling her name made Bella jump a little. Her friend put a hand on her shoulder. "Don't push yourself if you don't want to."
Bella felt a flash of annoyance.
Once upon a time, Rosalie was the type of friend who was always encouraging her. Take a chance, demand a raise, tell off that bitch who kept stealing her parking spot, ask that cute guy out on a date. Rosalie was a never give up, never settle type of person.
Now her advice was not to push.
Well, fuck that.
Swallowing hard past the lump in her throat, Bella forced her rising fear back. "Come inside," she said into the phone.
~0~
It was astounding how nervous Edward was. He tugged at his clothes - a simple shirt and jeans - and raked at his hair like a teenager going on a first date.
For as many first dates as Edward had been on, he'd never been this spastic. But then, with those other girls, he'd been indifferent as to whether or not they liked him. His attitude was prosaic - either the date would go well or it wouldn't, end of story.
Though he had no romantic feelings for Bella, Edward couldn't deny he wanted her to like him. It felt suspiciously like his heart might break a little.
Rolling his eyes at his own melodrama, Edward steeled himself and knocked on the door.
It was Emmett who answered. His features were tense, but he smiled and pulled Edward into a hug. "Hey man, good to see you," he said easily.
Edward nodded and similarly hugged Rosalie hello.
When he raised his head there were two other people edging into the foyer.
Edward's eyes automatically skipped over the black haired woman to look at Bella directly.
There was a fright in her eyes that was almost animalistic, like a wild animal about to bolt. But she was fighting it. He could see that in the slight flare of her nostrils and the tension in her jawline. She held the other woman's arm in a strong grip and visibly tried to hold his gaze.
Edward smiled tentatively.
She so noticeably more gaunt that she had been in the image he'd stared at for those days she was gone. The pallor of her skin was a little sickly. Still, despite the fact she was obviously nervous and visibly trembling, the corners of her lips tugged ever so slightly up in response to his smile.
Moving carefully, Edward offered his hand, hoping it was the right thing to do. Thus far, Bella didn't really have issues with touch, but then, she hadn't had occasion to touch many strangers. Still, he knew it was important to give her the option lest she feel singled out - different.
Glancing first at Bella, Angela stepped forward first, taking his hand and shaking with a small squeeze. "I'm Angela. It's really nice to meet you after all this time, Edward."
Edward smiled at the woman genuinely. "Likewise," he said warmly.
Taking a subtle breath, he turned to Bella, his hand out, palm up.
She stared at his fingers for a prolonged moment but then raised her hand, squeezing his quickly with the lightest of pressure. "H-hi." Her voice was thin but she looked right at him, holding his gaze and his hand for two long seconds before she let go again, stepping backward behind Angela a little.
Edward's heart seemed to grow just a bit and he couldn't help but smile at her.
"Ladies and gentles, the food is ready," Emmett said grandly, interrupting the moment before it could get more awkward than was already necessary.
They gathered around the table. Edward sat across and to the right of Bella. He did his best not to stare at her though he wanted to. Not in a creepy way but because he found himself drawn to the young woman.
She was so brave; Edward was in absolute amazement.
For the most part, she was withdrawn as everyone talked around her, but that wasn't unusual according to Rosalie and Emmett. She picked at her food, but she did eat. Occasionally, she looked up, paying attention to the conversation - a relatively new development - though she didn't contribute unless someone asked her a direct question.
Out of the corner of his eye, Edward thought he saw her steal a few glances in his direction.
About halfway through dinner, Edward rolled up his sleeve so he could reach for the rolls so as not to interrupt Angela.
It happened very quickly then.
Bella's hand darted out, wrapping around his wrist, keeping him from withdrawing. Her touch sent a shock up his arm, making Edward gasp. Everyone froze, conversation halting in an instant.
"I... I'm sorry," Bella stuttered, looking up at him with wide, startled eyes. "I wasn't thinking. I-"
"It's fine. You just surprised me is all," Edward said quickly, sitting back.
Bella was blushing furiously, but she wasn't panicking. She seemed more embarrassed than anything. "It's just your tattoo," she said, gesturing a little helplessly. "I thought it said..."
Resting his arm on the table, Edward rolled his sleeves up so she could see the words printed right above the table.
Her smile was small but absolutely genuine. "I have that tattoo."
Edward's eyebrows arched almost right off his face. "You're kidding."
It wasn't exactly a well known quote. It was a lyric from a song by Ani DiFranco: I've got better things to do than survive.
Bella nodded and sat back, pulling her feet up on the chair with her. She took off her sock - she hadn't been wearing shoes - and held her foot above the table. Sure enough, there was a line of text - that same line of text - along the side of her foot. "See, I-"
But in that instant, she seemed to realize what she was doing, what she'd done.
Her speech cut off in a wheeze and she froze.
"Bella?" Rosalie's voice was sharp as she called her name, putting down her fork to touch Bella's shoulder. When she did, Bella jerked sharply away, setting her feet back on the chair and putting her hands over her ears.
Calling her name, Angela also tried to go to her, help her.
"Get away!" Bella shouted at them, her breathing dangerously quick now. "Get the fuck away from me."
They backed off. Angela darted to the counter, retrieving a bottle of pills. "Honey," she said quietly, pleadingly. "I have your pills, okay? Do you think you can take them?"
"We're right here. You're going to be okay," Rosalie said.
Bella had huddled tighter on her chair, ducking down so her face was obscured by her arms and her bony knees. "Don't fucking touch me," she mumbled, the words only barely audible.
Without realizing it, Edward stood, desperate to go to her, to help her. He was yanked back by Emmett's iron grip around his arm. "Don't," the large man said flatly.
His expression was tight, sad.
It briefly occurred to Edward that maybe, just maybe, his voice might calm her. It worked when they were on the phone at night after all. But he found he couldn't have spoken even if he wanted to. His throat was too tight, his mouth too dry.
Edward had been present for so many of his mother's attacks and heard even more in his work on the hotlines. He'd even heard the beginning of Bella's anxiety attacks before.
This was different somehow – seeing it happen to her in person.
After another minute, Bella lifted her head just slightly. Her whole body was shaking in a way that made Edward's muscles ache just watching her. She sniffled and beckoned to Rosalie. The blond woman tilted her head down, listening for a moment, and when she straightened up again, Edward didn't need to know what Bella had said. Rosalie's look was enough.
Bella wanted him to leave.
Though it physically pained him, Edward did as she wished.
He drove for almost half an hour, not knowing what to feel. In his head, he was playing a slideshow of small images.
The way she held herself - her shoulders hunched as if it took quite a bit of effort not to fold in on herself constantly.
Her tiny, but genuine smile.
The haunted lines of her face - God, she was so heartbreakingly skinny, and she hadn't been big to begin with.
The way her eyes - dim to that point - sparked when she saw his tattoo.
She was wearing so many clothes, all of them oversized to cover as much of her as possible.
He wondered idly if that was what had caused her attack. She'd taken off an item of clothing in front of him.
But also, for a few seconds, she'd forgotten. She'd connected with him.
And then it had all gone to hell.
Edward's stomach twisted and revolted. He pulled over, barely getting his door open before he retched onto the street. In his head, those images played over and over. Her pain. Her bravery.
It sickened him that she should have to be so brave.
All at once, Edward was furious. Pulling his body back in his car, he punched his steering wheel. Then, he couldn't seem to stop. He beat the ever loving shit out of the steering wheel until the pain in his knuckles outranked the fury in his heart. He slumped over, breathing hard.
Crying.
Seeing her, seeing just how broken she still was, the knowledge of what had happened to her seemed to truly hit him. It was a crushing weight, knowing he'd played a part in it, however unwilling.
She was a beautiful person and Mike Newton had tried to destroy her, had succeeded, to a certain degree.
At that moment, the fact that such evil could exist, that anyone would want to hurt someone else the way Bella had been hurt, was more than Edward could stand. His mind wanted to reject this knowledge. It was so entirely nonsensical. Why?
But there was no answer to that question. At least, there was no answer that would ever make the things she'd gone through acceptable. There was no answer that would make it okay that she was in so much pain now.
Edward hadn't realized until that moment just how emotionally invested he was. There was a hole in his heart, raw around the edges, still bleeding. And as much as he hurt, if he could take her pain and wrap it up inside his own body, he would have done it in a fraction of a second.
It was agony being unable to help her, to be so totally impotent.
As his tears calmed slightly, Edward remembered Emmett's words from a few days ago. "Who do you go to?"
At the time, he'd dismissed Emmett's words. He was just the guy who babbled to Bella at night. He wanted to be her friend, but it wasn't the same. He didn't have first hand knowledge of the girl she'd been, the girl who - as he'd told Emmett - was gone now.
But he cared. He cared maybe too much about this woman, and seeing her like that had just about ripped his heart into pieces. He needed someone. He needed to vent, to make sense of the mess in his head.
Edward drove, desperate to get to his destination.
When he got to his parents' house, he sprinted up the steps, using his key to get in. "Mom? Dad?" he called.
They appeared, faces confused, meeting him in the entry hall. He all but fell into their arms, letting them hold him. He let them lead him to the living room and sat, trying to get a hold of his reeling thoughts. Words came out in a torrent, all tangled and twisted. They asked soft questions. But most of all, they offered some small measure of comfort.
Edward couldn't help but wonder if Bella had found even this much peace at all.
A/N: Huge thanks to barburella and GinnyW.
Quick note. To those of you who donated to the PTB fundraiser I was a part of in the summer, you should have received the first two chapters of my E/B fic Ray of Light. Please! Let me know what you think.
The rest of you - How we doing, babes? I know it's slow going.
