DISCLAIMER: All things Twilight belong to Stephanie Meyer.
A/N: Extra big thanks to my wonderful friend and beta, Justine, who stayed up late last night to get this done for me - you are amazing! Kisses to my girls for keeping me close to something resembling sanity! Also thanks to What the Fun for the interview featured on Twi-Muses!
Thank you to all my readers for your patience, real life has been very real lately.
~XXXX~
BPOV
"Listen to my voice, Edward. Reach back. Pull out the memories."
Tanya's voice is the smooth, even tone she used for her last therapy session with Edward. It's a very effective technique; I feel my own body relaxing, my own mind reaching into my memory bank.
I'm feeling too relaxed, like I could fall asleep any moment. Sitting up straighter, I force my brain from its murky state.
Edward is beside me, cross-legged on the floor, his eyes shut in concentration. I take the opportunity to admire his profile. He has a tiny bump on the bridge of his nose, and I wonder how he got it. The morning light filtering through the blinds highlights the angles of his face - his high cheek bones, the edge of his jaw.
I have honestly never seen anyone as handsome as Edward. He really takes my breath away.
"Edward."
The sound of him happily saying his own name reminds me that I'm sitting here none-too-subtly checking him out.
Zoning in, I see Tanya has moved past the relaxation stage of this session and Edward is now holding an old photograph of himself.
This is the first therapy session Esme has witnessed, and Tanya requested she bring some personal photographs to help jog Edward's memories.
Leaning toward Edward and taking a closer look at the picture in his hand, I find myself smiling. I'm guessing he's about six years old in this picture, judging from his lack of front teeth.
He looked much the same then as he does now: same mind-of-its-own hair, same vibrant green eyes, same smile, though his teeth are no longer missing. I bet he had all the little girls giggling on the playground. It occurs to me I have never asked Esme about what Edward's personality was like when he was a little boy. I'll have to do that sometime.
"That's right, Edward. It is you," Tanya encourages.
Leaning forward from her spot on the couch, Esme hands another photo to Tanya who turns the picture for Edward to see. The photograph is one of Esme and Edward, splashing each other in a pool.
"Edward, do you know who is in this picture?"
He immediately drops the photo of himself in his lap and grabs the picture from Tanya's hand. His eyes roam the photo, a smile spreading across his lips.
"Mom. Edward."
His voice is excited, eyes glowing, making me wonder if he remembers this event.
"Esme, would you like to tell Edward about this picture?" Tanya asks.
Touching his arm lightly, I draw his attention to his mother.
Esme leans forward until she can easily look over Edward's shoulder. "This is your eighth birthday. Your fa-" Tanya clears her throat abruptly, cutting Esme's words short.
I know we are supposed to be broaching the subject of Edward's father today. Tanya believes seeing a photograph of him might trigger memories for Edward.
Tanya talked to me briefly this morning, giving me a heads-up about her intentions for this session. Of course she didn't know I had overheard part of her conversation with Esme last night.
Esme fidgets with another photo in her lap before passing it to Tanya. Edward is still happily looking at the picture of himself and his mom. I wish we didn't have to upset him while he's happy, and seeing a picture of his father is bound to upset him.
Scooting closer to Edward, I link my arm through his, giving it what I hope is a comforting squeeze.
The next few moments seem to happen in slow motion.
Tanya slides the next photograph over the one in Edward's hands.
I watch the emotions play across his face, from happy, to confused, to utter horror.
The photo he holds now is one of Esme, Edward, and his father.
Edward's eyes glaze, and I can't help but feel he is somewhere else in his mind.
With a strength and a suddenness I don't expect, Edward pushes the coffee table in front of us with such force it tips over.
Wrenching from my grasp, Edward claws his way across the floor – gasping and trembling, terror evident on his every feature.
Scrambling after Edward, I reach for his leg as he moves around the back of the couch. The moment my skin touches his clothes, he lets out a bloodcurdling scream, like nothing I've ever heard before. Like a wild animal - a truly feral sound.
"Run, Dad! Please run!"
I can't even react at all. My brain feels numb. He has never spoken so clearly.
I try again to grab Edward's leg, but he is kicking so hard, trying to crawl away.
"Edward! Edward, stop!" My words fall on deaf ears as he continues to kick, trying to stand to run.
I'm afraid to let Edward leave my sight in this state. I reach for him again as he finally makes it to his feet. Unfortunately in his hurried attempt, his shoe connects with my face, sending me tumbling backward.
Through my tearing eyes, I see Edward running through his bedroom door, loud bangs emanating from within.
Time snaps to fast forward. Tanya is kneeling at my side in a second, and Esme is rushing to Edward's room.
"Bella, are you alright?" Tanya's face is close to mine, genuine fear and concern in her eyes.
I shake off the ringing in my ears as I make an attempt to stand. Tanya catches me when I sway on my feet, keeping me from falling.
"I'm okay. Just give me a second."
"Do you want to sit down?"
"No, I need to get to Edward before-" my sentence is cut short by crashes and the sound of Esme pleading with Edward to let her help.
Again I hear a loud bang from Edward's room and see Esme quickly slip out the door.
Rushing the best I can with a swimming head, I move past Esme to enter Edward's room. The entire room is torn apart and Edward is no where in sight.
The bed has been stripped of sheets and blankets and the mattress is propped against the closet doors.
"Be careful, Bella." Esme's voice trembles slightly.
One of the framed pictures that used to hang above the bed is now smashed, glass sprinkled across the carpet, and, judging from the dent in the wall, I'm guessing the cause of the broken picture is its collision with the wall.
I hear Edward's gasping breath coming from inside the closet. He has made himself quite the barricade, leaving only a small space to squeeze through.
"Edward? It's Bella. I'm in your room. Is that okay?" I hear nothing except Edward's continued heavy breathing, but seeing as no picture frames are hurtling my way, I'm taking that as a yes.
I take another step further inside the room, listening for any sounds of movement from inside the closet. I can see in the cracked-open closet door now, but there's no sign of Edward. He must be further inside.
"Edward, may I come into the closet?" I'm met with silence; even Edward's breathing is quieter.
With caution I approach the small opening, stretching my arm out, and I slip one hand in first. When nothing happens, I allow the rest of my body to squeeze through into the darkened interior.
It takes a few seconds for my eyes to adjust, even though the mid-morning sun brightens the bedroom, the inside of the closet is quite dark.
When I'm able to see, I gasp and tears fill my eyes at what's before me.
At the opposite end of the closet, curled amongst a nest of sheets and blankets, is Edward. His eyes are open and fixed on the opening I just came in, yet he hasn't reacted at all to my presence. His eyes don't hold the fear and curiosity mix they had when I found him in the cave. They look entirely different - haunted and distant, like he's in a different place in time.
"Edward?" My desire to go to him claws at my insides, but I fear if I move too quickly I would only traumatize him more.
I sink to the floor, curling myself to mirror Edward and listen to the hushed voices coming from the hallway.
"Do you think he'll be alright?" Esme's voice is edged with anxiety.
"I don't really know; it appears he is having some kind of flashback."
"Has he had a lot of flashbacks since you've been working with him?"
"No, this is actually the first one I know of," Tanya responds.
"Is there something else we should be doing for him?" I can hear the yearning to help in Esme's voice.
"I don't think so. Bella is probably the only one who can reach him right now."
"Why do you think that is? Because I did a little searching on social neglect and it said most people who experience social isolation tend to spurn affection and can't deal with people touching them. Edward seems to be the opposite."
My ears perk a up a bit. I'm actually very interested to hear Tanya's response and being that Edward still hasn't moved, I sit up and lean my head against the cracked door to hear better.
"Edward is such a unique case there is really no model to draw from. You can't compare him with other cases of social neglect. Many of those types of cases are from abusive parents shutting their children away, or from kids who are bullied or made into social pariahs. Cases like that cause people to shun affection and interaction because of the negative association they have with it. Since Edward's case is more neglect due to circumstance, I believe that greatly changes his perception of attention and affection. It's actually not uncommon for people that have been deprived of affection to crave it desperately. When Bella found him, she offered him affection freely and he snatched it right up."
If Esme responds, it's too quiet for me to hear.
Tanya and Esme fall silent and I wonder if they have moved their conversation elsewhere.
I turn my attention back to Edward. He hasn't moved at all.
Tanya sounded so confident that I am the one to help Edward; I hope she's right.
I curl myself back on the floor, fractionally closer to Edward. His eyes are still open, staring unblinkingly at the sliver of light coming in the closet door.
Still lying, I start moving my hand along the floor, inch by inch. When my arm is stretched as far as it will go, I scoot my body closer to his and wait for his reaction.
Nothing happens.
Starting over, I slide my hand slowly across the carpeted space between us, shifting closer once my arm is fully extended.
I'm now mere inches from Edward and he has yet to acknowledge my presence. He is so still, like a statue. The only sign of life is the slight movement of his chest as he breathes.
Taking a deep breath to steady my nerves, I reach for him, allowing my fingertips to brush gently against his cheek, whispering his name.
His eyes close as soon as my skin touches his, a ragged breath passing through his lips.
Relief washes over me. At least he reacted.
His hand moves over mine, pressing my palm flush to his face.
"Bella." Edward's voice is barely audible, but the sound brings tears to my eyes - he knows me.
I was so worried he wouldn't let me near him, wouldn't let me touch him.
His eyes open and find mine. I see sadness in their emerald depths.
"Hurt," he mumbles.
"Are you hurt?" My hands move frantically over him, checking for signs of injury. "Where, Edward? Where are you hurt?" I find no scrapes or cuts on him, and surely he has no internal injury.
"Dad hurt." The desolate tone of his voice makes my heart feel like it's being squeezed.
His eyes search my face, waiting for an answer. As much as I would like to shield him, protect him, I know it does him no good.
"Yes, Edward, Dad was hurt." My mind flashes to the gruesome crime scene photos. It was obvious the killer wanted to inflict maximum pain. I can't imagine wanting to hurt another person that badly.
"Dad gone." His voice holds the innocence of a child, but his eyes reflect the horror I fear he must have witnessed. He isn't asking me, he knows.
The only thing I can manage to choke out is the word, "Yes." My overwhelming emotions won't allow me to say more.
A strangled sob leaves Edward's lips as his arms encircle me, pulling me tightly against him. He buries his face in my hair at the crook of my neck, tremors passing through his body.
Oh, Edward, I wish desperately I could do something, say something that would take this pain from you.
Doing the only thing I can, I hold him fiercely to me, combing my fingers through his hair and murmuring words of comfort.
I don't know how long we lie that way before we fall into a deep sleep.
~xx~
I don't want to be here.
Even though it's been a week since Edward's episode, and he seems to be doing better, I still don't feel comfortable leaving him.
"You could try and pretend to have a good time. Humor me a little." Alice is giving me a pointed look. She knows I'm fretting about Edward.
I can't believe Carlisle totally sold me out and helped Alice plan this little surprise going away party for me. He knows how much I hate this kind of crap.
Putting on my best fake smile, I surge into the crowd of students gathered in Carlisle's classroom. Scanning the faces around me, I'm thrilled when I see Angela's friendly smile and eagerly make my way to where she is chatting with Jasper.
"Hey, Bella. How have you been? How's Edward?" Her concern for both Edward and me is touching, and it dawns on me how much I will genuinely miss her.
"We're both good. How have you been?"
"Great! Jasper has just been sharing some news with me." I turn my attention to Jasper; he does seem to have an excited vibe to him.
"I've finally declared a major: psychology."
"You'll be great at that! You seem to have a good sense of how people feel, and you have a calming manner. Makes you easy to talk to," I tell him. Even though I've known Jasper for several years now, we have never talked much. But I have always found myself being comfortable around him. Some people just have that knack I guess.
"Thanks. I'm eager to get started on my classes; it will be fascinating to study the reasons people are the way they are.'
"You're braver than me. I don't want to know why some people do the things they do. There are some real sickos out there." I nod my head in agreement with Angela. It's definitely not a field of study I would pursue.
From the corner of my eye I see Alice weaving her way through the partygoers, our friend Rosalie and her boyfriend Emmett in tow.
Once the trio reaches us and Rosalie gives me a quick hug, she wastes no time on idle chit chat. "So where is this Edward guy Alice has told us about?"
Clearly Alice hasn't told them a lot about Edward if Rosalie is even asking that question.
"He really isn't up for something like this. All of this would make him nervous," I say quietly.
More people have taken notice of my presence and gathered around us. Many curious eyes are awaiting my response. It sets my mind to wondering exactly what they have heard.
"Alice and Dr. Cullen haven't really told us much; do you mind filling in some of the blanks?" Rosalie asks.
With a slight feeling of awkwardness, I begin to tell the small crowd around me about finding Edward in the cave and a little bit of how I'm helping him learn to communicate.
The unmistakable whiny voice of Jessica Stanley sounds behind me. "So he's like stupid or something?"
Turning to face her, I find that she is closer than expected, almost right in my face.
"No!" I try to keep the anger surging through me under control, there is just something about Jessica that irks me, always has from the moment I met her.
"Then why doesn't he talk?" Her tone holds a challenge.
"Speaking doesn't indicate intelligence. You seem to have no trouble speaking without it." I know Jessica is just trying to goad me, and I shouldn't let her get to me, but I can't help myself. The words were out of my mouth before I could stop myself.
Several snickers sound through the crowd and Jessica's face turns impossibly red.
"Are you saying I'm not intelligent?"
"If the shoe fits." Normally I'm not this quick with a comeback; I guess I'm on my game today.
Open laughter is spreading through the party now, and I can almost see the smoke rising from Jessica's head as her angry glare meets mine.
"Whatever, Bella. You're the one who's dropping out of college to follow some guy that doesn't even leave the house."
Charlie was never one of those parents with a steady stream of wisdom to impart. His lessons were always short on words but big on effectiveness and practicality. And one thing Charlie stressed was never start a fight, but know how to finish one. For the first time in my life I utilize this advise. I pull back my fist and let it connect with Jessica's face, right on the bridge of her nose.
Punching someone isn't like you see on television. You don't just shake your hand and walk away. This shit hurts.
Jessica's face is a study in disbelief. Tears fill her eyes and her hands are pressed to her nose. I can see blood starting to squeeze between her fingers.
Without another word, she turns and hurries from the room and my friends close in around me.
"That's badass, Bella," Emmett tells me, a huge smirk on his face.
"Are you okay?" Angela and Alice ask at the same time.
"Yeah," I say, though my knuckles are throbbing.
Alice wraps her arm around my waist, pulling me toward the front of the classroom while I cradle my hand against my chest.
"Don't pay any attention to her, Bella. Come on, we got you a cake and a few gifts."
Even though I'm not really a party person, and I definitely don't like being the center of attention, it is kind of nice to see that people care and will miss me.
Alice decides to really embarrass me by turning me to the room full of people and giving a little speech about how much I will be missed.
To complete my humiliation there is a small stack of gifts, and I am surprised to find a photo album full of pictures from our summer's field research. There is also a camera which Rosalie informs me is for the express purpose of keeping all my friends here informed about my new home.
Lastly there is a light blue raincoat, a pair of navy blue rain boots with little whales on them, and a blue umbrella with white polka dots.
I'm told all of the gifts are from the entire class, though I have a sneaking suspicion Alice is behind them all, especially since everything is coordinated in my favorite shade of blue.
After eating way too much cake, many hugs and promises to stay in touch and even a few tears, Carlisle and I head back to his house.
There are still lights on when we pull up to the house and I find myself feeling anxious to get inside and hear how things went with Edward.
It was so hard to leave him, even though Carlisle, Esme, and Tanya all assured me he would be fine, and Edward himself seemed to understand that I was going but would be back. Despite all that, I still felt a hint of guilt for being away. I don't ever want him to think I've abandoned him.
Silence greets us when we walk in, but only for a moment.
"Bella!"
Edward hurries to me, throwing his arms around me and pulling me tightly to his chest. I work my arms around his waist, giving him an equally enthusiastic hug.
"Miss Bella." Edward's words make my heart ache - the good kind of ache, the kind that warms you up.
"I missed you too, Edward."
~xx~
Edward and I sit on his bed for a long time - his head on my lap, my fingers in his hair.
His eyes are closed, though I know he isn't asleep. I think he's just enjoying our time together, and I more than understand that, I am too.
"Bella ouch."
Immediately I move my hand from his head, thinking I must have pulled his hair, but when I look down at Edward's face he is studying my bruised knuckles, a deep furrow on his brow.
"Oh, yeah. I have an ouch."
I'm taken completely by surprise when Edward presses his lips very gently to my fingers. It's one of the tenderest gestures I ever experienced, and his sweetness brings tears to my eyes and a lump to my throat. Sliding down the bed, I place a kiss on Edward's forehead. We lie here each watching the other, and that's how we fall asleep – face to face, hand in hand.
~XXXX~
A/N: Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing, I read every review and your kind words touch my heart!
Fic Rec: Impact by Nise7465 - this story has some of the richest characters I've come across.