Everyone wanted a great "training scene" and I'm pretty sure I'm giving you one. Hope you like it!
Chapter Twelve
I'm still on this awkward high after that hot-and-heavy scene between Alec and me. I walk in between Aro and Alec down the hallway, and I have to hold my hands behind my back to keep from brushing fingers with Alec. I'm sending him 'I love you's in my mind, and his lips are twitching in the corners.
I love you. Twitch. I love you. Twitch.
I make a valiant effort not to smile.
We walk for a while, down hallways dark and light, cement and stone, cold and warm. I catch glimpses of a sunny sky out of the high windows, and my skin itches with desire. I miss the sun. I miss fresh air. I haven't been outside in almost three months. I finally feel like an actual prisoner, walking down the hall with escorts—even if one of them is the boy I love.
Finally, we stop before a set of metal doors that don't quite fit in with the rest of the wooden décor.
"This is our first stop," Aro says, pulling open the door. The room is blindingly white, with various humans—the smell is distinguishable—waiting at different desks. "Medical evaluations," he says, and I almost cringe. The sterile smell of the room should have been a giveaway, if not that there are various needles on different desks, just waiting to prick my skin.
I groan internally. This is worse than I imagined. At the first desk, a woman draws my blood gingerly. She looks anxious; I can't tell if it's because of me or because of Alec or Aro. She hooks me up to some sort of IV, and I'm forced to sit there for about five minutes before she takes it out of my arm. Another woman walks by with a Styrofoam cup of blood in her hand. I take it eagerly, feeling weary, and smell it. It's definitely animal, not human. I drink it slowly, meeting Alec's gaze from across the room. He looks worried. I send him a thought, slowly, so as not to startle him. I'm fine.
He looks up, then down, the equivalent of a nod. He heard me.
I'm then made to look through these different sorts of binoculars. In each one, I need to push a button whenever I see something move or shift. As I go along, each image gets darker, until in the third to last one (of eight) I can't see anything at all. I suppose they had higher expectations for me.
After a few more evaluations, Aro gestures for all of the nurses to leave the room, which they do, before leading Alec and I through another set of metal doors against the back wall. It startlingly contrasts the first room; walls are tiled and black, and it looks to be completely empty. It's also impossibly long; it stretches at least the length of two football fields, and at least thirty feet high ceilings. The left wall seems to be some sort of reflective glass, and I can only assume that there are members of the Guard watching behind it.
"Stand here," Aro says, pointing to an area marked with tape. "We'll return shortly." Aro gestures for Alec to follow him, leading him back out the doors from which we entered.
I stand where Aro told me to, facing the reflective wall wearily. I grimace at my image, knowing that others are seeing me in this frighteningly revealing costume of Aro's.
The brush of air is what alerts me to the fact that I'm not alone. I turn, and Felix is standing there, a wry smile on his lips. But I can tell from his eyes—that smile is a show, and he feels bad. He's apologizing silently, whether to me or to Alec I don't know.
I stagger back when he slams his fist into my shoulder, followed by a flying roundhouse kick to my side. I fall back, barely catching myself with my hands on the slippery floor. I'm glad for the sandals; as I stand up, I slide them off of my feet. I run faster barefoot. I look at Felix warily before running in the opposite direction, trying to remember all of the mock-fight lessons between Uncle Jasper and I. He never actually hurt me, but he taught me a few things. If only I could remember.
I grin when I remember my shield; I put it up instantly. But soon I reach the other side of the room, and Felix is standing there waiting for me. I watch his lips move, form the words I'm sorry, and then his foot is snapping against my jaw. In my surprise, I'd dropped my shield. While I spit out blood, I fill his vision with the sight of me running back the way we came, and he falls for it, moving to sprint back that way.
Staying near the wall, I run quietly and quickly to keep up with him, trying my hardest to maintain the vision and hoping he can't hear my footsteps.
I take my chance, just as we're reaching the other wall; I reach out my leg to kick him with my shin, just under the back of his knee. He stumbles, and just that fraction of a distraction gives me the time I need to hit him again—hard. It isn't as precise a blow as I would have liked, not with the skilled way he was dodging, but it's better than nothing.
I've failed to keep the image up at this point, but that would be useless. He has me trapped against the wall now, but I'm small and fast and I duck under his arm, getting behind him. But he's too fast, still, and I can't keep up with his movements; most everything he does is a blur, and he's hit me twice more before I even see him coming. My head is spinning, and I'm sure I'm bleeding where he last kicked me. Sure enough, something wet drips into my eye, and I wipe it away hastily.
He swings another punch. I bend backward just in time and feel his knuckles swish past my nose, barely grazing. I take a quick step forward, and I feel like Alice in that fleeting moment, dancing on my toes the way she did when she "fought" with Jasper. It's all a dance, I think, and dip low to kick Felix hard in the stomach, but he halts my attack with a glancing blow to the side of my head. I wince, but the throbbing is quickly gone and I realize this must be Alec: I can't imagine what I look like right now, how he must think of me. I find him somewhere in that crowded room next to Felix and I, sending a quiet Thank you.
My hesitation gives Felix all the time he needs to send me flying backwards into the glass wall; the force of the throw results with a thundering crash. Thin needles of glass splinter through my clothes into arms and back. There's chaos now, behind me, all of the Guard scrambling to back away from us. I can see the amusement in their faces, though, and I use it to fuel my anger. I ignore the pain and jump onto Felix; but he throws me off easily.
The worst part of fighting a vampire is that I know he is in absolutely no pain; nothing I do will hurt him, nothing I do will make him feel the way I do. He's unstoppable, and he towers over me.
I don't bother trying to get up off the floor this time; everything hurts, and I think I've broken something. Felix laughs whole-heartedly, and I hear someone clapping: Aro. My vision is blurry, and all I can think is: this sucks. Just seconds later, I think Alec's mental grip on me slips and everything rushes in. The shards of glass embedded deep in my skin, the cut on my forehead, the bruises and bumps covering almost every inch of my body, and finally a searing pain that hits me harder than anything else. I lie there on the ground, gasping for breath. Blood rushes in my ears. I can't stay still because the pain is so terrible, but just moving my fingers makes it worse. I feel cool fingers on my shoulder, someone trying to move my arm, but I grasp it tightly with my other hand. It feels like a dead weight; I can move my fingers and my hands, but it feels completely disconnected from the rest of my body. Every breath I take brings tears to my eyes, and I can hardly stand the pain. Suddenly, it disappears, and I can see Alec's face looming above me. He's talking slowly, but I can't hear anything other than the pounding of my heart. I let my eyes slip shut, and I can feel that I'm being moved but it doesn't matter; I know I'm in Alec's arms, and that's the safest place I could ever be.
I wake up hours later, in my bed. I grimace when I remember the fight, remember that awful pain. I open my eyes and find my grandpa sitting on my bed, watching me with wary eyes.
"Grandpa," I exclaim quietly. "What are you doing here?"
"What do you think I'm doing here?" he says, voice soft. He frowns at me. I look down at myself, and realize I must be pretty drugged up if I don't feel any of this. I'm bandaged almost everywhere—as far as I can see, at least—and my right arm is in a sling. My bare shoulder is purple and bruised, as is most of my visible skin. I gingerly touch my forehead, only to find a bandage taped over my cut. My jaw aches, and I feel a bruise already formed on my cheek bone.
"Well, that's pretty awful, isn't it?" I ask him, feigning to be nonchalant. But everything is starting to ache now, the pain really sinking in. "I must look terrible."
Grandpa lays his gentle hands on my knees, squeezing there. "It could have been so much worse," he whispers. "I can't imagine what Aro would plan to achieve from this—it's awful. You're so very human," he says, as if bestowing a gift upon me. "You could never stand against a vampire."
I exhale. "That's not fair. I think I did pretty well, under the circumstances."
"Yes, sweetheart. I was proud to hear that you had lasted almost five minutes with that monster."
I shake my head. "Felix isn't a monster. He felt bad—I could tell. We're not on bad terms."
"Renesmee," Grandpa breathes. "You have too much faith in others. These people—these awful, cruel people—are not your allies. They won't help you, my sweet girl. They aren't your friends."
My head hurts. "Where's Alec?" I interrupt.
"He'll be here soon. The blood was—a little much for him. I had to set your shoulder, and remove the glass from your arms and back. He stood outside and numbed you for me; he didn't trust the morphine." Grandpa sighs. "That boy . . . that boy loves you, Renesmee. Don't break his heart."
"I remember you being worried for my heart the last time I saw you, Grandpa."
I'm only kidding, but Grandpa regards me seriously with his golden eyes. "I am, sweetheart. Always. But that boy . . . I've never seen something like that before. Not even the wolves, or your father. He's absolutely taken by you, Renesmee. If you—it would ruin him. Absolutely ruin him."
I frown at what he's implying. "Never. I love him, Grandpa. I could never hurt him like that."
Grandpa stands from the bed. I can see that his hands are shaking, and this surprises me. Even with being my grandfather, Carlisle appears young and handsome and composed. I feel as if I see a different side of him here—a weakened, worried side of him. "Jacob wouldn't agree," he says softly.
My heart stops for a moment. Jacob. "I can't help how I feel."
"I know you can't, sweetheart. Not even the best of us can. I just can't help but worry for that poor boy; I see him as one of my own, you know. We all love him, even Aunt Rose." Grandpa picks up the copy of Rilke's poems on my nightstand, flips through it absentmindedly. "He still hasn't left. He won't leave until you've escaped. He's accepted it, as awful as it is."
"Grandpa," I whisper sadly. "I don't know what I can do that would—what would fix that? Nothing can fix that for him, Grandpa."
He nods slowly. "I know. I know. But I know that he hopes to still be close with you; even if that only means friends. He can't stand to be away, no matter what the cost."
The thought of having to be mere friends with the person you love—of never being truly happy—strikes me as the most terrible thing. To never be loved back? To be always hoping, waiting, for something that will never happen? "Can he ever love anyone else?" I ask Grandpa. "Can he ever be happy without me?"
Grandpa squeezes my uninjured hand. "I hope so, sweetheart. I really, really do."
And then the door flies open, and in runs Alec looking completely flustered and worried. "Renesmee!" he exclaims. He lets out a heavy breath, seeing my eyes are open and I am awake. He hurries to my other side, opposite Grandpa. "How are you feeling? Are you alright? I would've been here the moment you'd awoken—but Aro had called me aside, and I couldn't get away faster. Does it hurt?"
I smile at him—his rushed words said more about him than any of my questions ever could. "Alec," I say softly, and he returns a lopsided smile to me, still looking very, very anxious. He looks up at my grandfather, a question in his eyes.
"She'll be fine," he says, and the stiffness leaves Alec's shoulders.
"And her shoulder?"
"It'll be rough for the first few days, and she'll have to be careful with it for a while, but it'll be fine."
Alec sighs. "Thank God." He reaches out to touch me, hold me, do something, but seems worried.
Grandpa laughs. "They're mostly just bruises and scrapes," he says. "You can touch her. Just be careful of her arm, son. I'm not sure how long Aro will let me stay, so I may need you to help her with re-dressing her wounds."
Alec nods. "Of course. Absolutely."
"Alec," I start. "You don't need—if it's too much, you don't need to."
He frowns at me, tucking a stray curl behind my ear. "I can handle it, angel. I'm getting better. I couldn't stand you being in pain—losing you—because I wasn't strong enough to handle it." He kisses me on the nose. "I love you," he whispers, his breath fanning across my cheeks.
I smile, letting my eyes shut. I feel him linger as I whisper back to him. "I love you, too."
Grandpa lets go of my hand, and we both turn to look at him. "I'll be right back," he says, a quiet smile on his lips. "I need to speak with Aro."
After he leaves the room, Alec says, "I'm so furious with Felix."
I groan. "Not you, too." I raise my eyebrows. "It's not his fault. It's Aro's. Felix felt awful about it. He apologized, while we were fighting."
"I don't care. If he'd truly felt badly, he wouldn't have taken it so far. He was—throwing you. Angel, that doesn't sit well with me."
My stomach clenches. "I think I did well," I say, stubbornly.
Alec's expression softens. "You did fantastic, angel. You were beautiful out there—until you were in so much pain I could hardly stand it."
I frown. "Were you taking it away? After each hit? I didn't feel too awful until the end."
He nods slowly, holding my gaze. "I was. I couldn't let you be in pain." He grimaces. "Aro was standing next to me, counting your injuries. Each and every one. Cataloguing. He wants me to watch how long it takes each injury to heal—and then compare that to a human's healing process."
I bite my lip. "So that's why he wanted to do this, then? So he could see how quickly I heal?"
Alec nods. "And so he could see how well you would fare in a fight with a vampire. I think it's safe to assume he would never let you out without guards—nothing I'd complain about."
"I don't understand. Does he plan on sending me out—to run errands for him? Torture vampires?"
Alec shrugs. "I don't know, love. Don't worry about it, not yet." He leans down to kiss me gently. "I'm going to go get something to drink, okay? Do you want water, angel?"
I shut my eyes. "Yeah, sure. Thanks."
"Of course."
Aro has my grandfather leave a few hours later. Just as before, we don't say goodbye. He leaves with a see you later and a reminder to Alec to dress my cuts again once a day. I sleep the rest of the day, Alec by my side. Any time I'm in pain, he takes it away.
The next morning, I'm aching all over. I haven't seen myself in the mirror yet—or gone to the bathroom—so I take my chance. Alec isn't anywhere to be found, and I know that if he were here he would never let me get out of bed. The process is slow and painful. Every inch of my skin feels raw, and my right leg is practically useless—a piece of glass went deep into my thigh, and it hurts more than anything.
When I reach the bathroom, I have to say it's quite the horrifying sight. The bruises on my cheek and jaw have darkened almost completely, and the bandage on my forehead covers part of my eyebrow. My eyes are shadowed by dark circles, and I've never looked paler. I pee quickly, and as I'm washing my hands my head starts to pound so badly I just need to sit—and so I do, right in the middle of my bathroom.
I'm still there, minutes later, when I hear the door to the room open.
"Angel?" Alec's voice comes, anxious. "Angel, where are you?"
The bathroom door flies open, and he's standing there, breathing hard.
"Oh, hey," I say, giving him a half-wave.
"Are you okay?" He kneels down next to me, pressing a gentle hand to my forehead.
I shrug. "I couldn't make it back to the bed, and this is a lovely place to spend the day, don't you think?"
Alec snorts, moving his hand to my cheek before leaning forward to rest his forehead against mine. Our noses touch. He cups my face in his hands, thumbs caressing my cheekbones. "I absolutely love you," he says.
I kiss him. "This sucks. I feel too shitty to jump you—yesterday . . ." I trail off. Alec leans back, and I wink suggestively. He squeezes my uninjured hand.
"Was wonderful," he finishes. "Let me go get the bandages your grandfather left. I need to redress these cuts on your back, love." He kisses me once more, and then goes to get them. He's back in seconds. We both sit there a moment, wondering how to do this.
I sigh. "This sucks," I repeat.
Alec nods, not arguing. He gently takes off my sling, and I cradle my arm to my chest. "We need to get your shirt off," he says. "I'm sorry if this hurts, love. I'll numb you." And so he does, taking off my shirt slowly for me, slipping it over my arm. I don't feel a thing. He looks sad, upset by all of the bruises covering my chest and stomach and sides. He brushes his cool fingers over them gently, kissing each one. It's not sexual or passionate—it's sweet. My breasts are the only unharmed part of my body, and Alec regards them quite seriously. "Thank god for that," he says, and I can't tell if he's kidding or being serious. After another moment, he moves to sit behind me. He takes off each bandage slowly, and I can hear him wince at each one. His fingers brush them tenderly with the gauze my grandpa left him. He works quickly, and soon he's done. I lean back against him once he's finished, and he wraps his arms around me, his cool skin on my bare stomach making me shiver. I burrow my face in the crook of his neck, and he leans his cheek against mine. We sit like that, wrapped in each other's arms. It feels like we're waiting for something—whether its words that neither of us is willing to speak, a mention of someone, a kiss, a touch, a glance, I don't know. My heart aches for him.
I wonder at how much he's lost—more than I ever have, more than I can imagine losing in my life. I lost a childhood; he lost all hope for a life. He lost his family.
"I'm sorry," I say, quietly. Alec twists around to look at me, and I watch his eyes until he realizes what it is I'm alluding to.
He sighs. "I know you are. But you don't need to be, angel. I don't want you to be."
"My family is great," I say, not bragging, not trying to. "You'll love them. They'll love you."
Alec doesn't meet my eyes. "You would have loved my mother. She was so kind. She cared for everyone in our village; no one was kind to her, but she never held it against them. She knew she was different." He smiles softly, and I know he's somewhere far away. "Jane looks so much like her. She was beautiful. I look like my father, though."
"What color were your eyes?"
The question surprises him. "Gray. My eyes were gray. My father's eyes."
I try to imagine it, and it's remarkably easy. Loving his eyes has nothing to do with the color, but everything to do with being able to see him inside them. "And Jane?"
"The same," he says.
"I wonder"—I begin—"Nevermind."
"What?"
"My dad had green eyes," I tell him. "I inherited my mom's brown."
"Oh. I don't know, love. It would be spectacular, but I don't know."
"You never said what happened to your dad."
Alec's expression hardens, but I can see the pain, the agony, in his eyes. "That's because I don't know. Nobody knew. He just . . . didn't wake up. Life was very different then. Everything was very different then." He stops suddenly, and we both know what he was about to say:
I was very different then.
I thought that was a pretty good fight scene, considering it was the first I've ever written! It was pretty fun to write, actually. I enjoyed it quite a bit. Hope I didn't disappoint! Merry-belated-Christmas (Happy Hannukah!) and Happy New Years! REVIEW!
