Title: When the World is Dark

Chapter Rating: K+

Pairing: Alice/Bella

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Stephenie Meyer.

A/N: The bed joke was taken from tara sue me's, "Edward and the Bed."

I had a massive headache by the time I woke up to the sound of an alarm clock. I was peacefully asleep, with no dreams or nightmares or even headaches to interrupt this accomplishment I was able to achieve. It had to have been the loud screeching three feet away that practically split my head in half.

Moaning with an unbearable amount of exhaustion absorbing my body, I stretched my aching muscles against the comforter of my bed and allowed the scent of freesias to reach my senses.

No matter how conceited it sounded, even I had to admit that the floral aroma was appealing, especially when I was capable of smelling it on such a crappy morning.

When the pain began to overrule the urge to sit still and merely enjoy the comfort, I rolled over and used my left arm to lazily slap the snooze button at my side.

There was nothing there.

I groaned softly at my terrible luck, and, now wide awake, shifted myself off the mattress to try again… only to get a good look at the time.

"You awake, Bells?" Charlie called out downstairs. "You're going to be late!"

A shudder ripped through my frame as my elbow made contact to the edge of the bedside table, and, with a low hiss, my attention was pulled from the throbbing pain to the gentle shadows dancing across the dimly lit room.

My dimly lit room.

My eyes flickered closed for a brief moment, the memory of the night before savored in my mind. Even if I felt as though it was alcohol I had consumed instead of drugs that were intended to aid during my recovery, I could clearly remember the instant I had fallen asleep.

What I couldn't remember was when I was taken back to my room. Without a doubt, I couldn't have done it by myself, though it also made me wonder whether Charlie had any idea of where I had gone.

Or even if I was gone at all.

The objects surrounding me appeared to be spinning when I decided to stand up, and, staggering helplessly to the door like an idiot, I shoved myself against the wall to refrain from falling. Eventually, I made it to the hallway in one piece.

The kitchen was filled with the kind of silence you have when no one claps after a bad performance. It was kind of funny, really, because all you would hear are several coughs from the audience and the scraping of chairs, which is exactly what came in Charlie's presence.

It was extremely awkward. I assumed there weren't any words spoken because I was rather quiet with my actions, and with Charlie's hearing problems, it was very likely that he wasn't even aware that I was there.

"You were too tired to change?" he asked suddenly, and I nearly slammed my head against the refrigerator from the abruptness of his question.

I quickly glanced at him to see his back was facing me, his arm raised to his face as if sipping from a mug of coffee.

Answer! I mentally screamed. I wouldn't have panicked if I had actually known what Charlie was talking about, but a look at the clothes I wore suggested two things. One – I still had on what I wore last night. And two…

Charlie didn't know.

Forming the words I needed to speak, I said, "Um, yeah. I was. School is just… really tiring, you know?"

"Is that so?" Charlie questioned. "I would've never known." And before I could obtain the reflex to look away, he turned in his seat, and I was greeted by a rather intense gaze that was nowhere near in character for him. "Is that why I received a phone call from your principal saying you didn't go to school yesterday?"

The slightest reaction to this discovery was clearly enough to prove his point.

"I'm not going ask anything you don't want to answer. Not unless you want to tell me," he stated sternly, the only available emotion smoldering within his eyes, and if I hadn't known any better, he appeared to be more worried than angry. "Do you have any idea why I was called to the station yesterday?"

At this, I immediately snapped away from Charlie's gaze. I expected him to be angry, to give me some kind of punishment, even if it was something I would never want from my own Dad. Anything would've been better than this… this disappointment.

I shook my head mutely, struggling with the amount of actual words I yearned to say. I wasn't capable of uttering a single sound, however, nor could I even obtain the will to open my mouth.

Charlie stood up then, and just this movement alone was what caused me to follow his figure from one end of the kitchen to the other, a rolled up stack of papers in his hand.

"This," he muttered, handing me the newspaper with the front page facing up. "Is why I'm worried about you, Bells."

I eyed him wearily, hesitantly, in fact, before I took it from him. I was only able to read the title when I was overwhelmed by the urge to lock myself in my room and never come out.

Four Killed in Port Angeles. Suspects Remain Unknown, was what it said, followed by a short summary, obviously written to fit a certain rating, of how the victims were found in several different sections in the city of Port Angeles, each body mangled and beaten to death.

I skimmed through the article in a quick pace, and took note of the lack of description when it failed to mention what should've been the most common method used to kill these people… they were robbed of their blood.

I allowed the frightened side of me – the side that was constantly hidden – to conquer my current state of emotions.

And it was official. I was scared out of my mind.

"Victoria," came my response to the small quivers arising within my body.

I couldn't stop shaking, and this normally wouldn't have been such a terrible reaction if Charlie hadn't been present. He snatched the paper from my hands and threw it across the kitchen table, all the while gripping my shoulders with enough force to temporarily put the unpleasant tremors to a halt.

Or at least, that was what I could distinguish through all the confusion.

"Bells," Charlie repeated again. "Bella, what's wrong?"

It was a struggle to breathe when the air appeared to be thick. It was a wonder how I could actually speak. "Nothing, Dad. I – I'm fine. I need to get ready for school."

I slipped away from his firm grasp and made my way toward the stairs, stopping when my name was called. Otherwise, I would've kept going until I had just a little belief that I was in a safety zone, even if my only available 'safety' at the moment was my room.

"Do you understand what I'm saying?" he pressed on, meeting my eyes with the same amount of worry and despair as he previously possessed. "Don't do that again. It isn't safe here anymore, even if the murders are happening in Port Angeles."

"You can count on that," I said, my eyes darting from the front door suddenly capturing my attention to Charlie's face, which hadn't altered in the slightest. "Just… just be careful, Dad."

He gave me a rather puzzled look, and, to conceal any leftover suspicions, I quickly added, "You're a cop. You think any bad guys will go easy on you?"

It was lame, but at least I earned a chuckle. "Like your old man can't handle it. You shouldn't worry about me, sport," he replied. "You, on the other hand, are telling me where you're going after school. And I expect you to be back before nine every night. You got that?"

"Yes, sir," I uttered, flashing him a weak smile that didn't go unnoticed by his observant gaze.

I looked away before he could see any further than what I mistakably showed him, and mumbled a quiet good bye as I climbed the stairs. For a second, the thought of school nearly left my mind, though a glance toward a clock drowned me in another wave of disappointment.

I took a quick break in the bathroom, not bothering to take a shower with the limited amount of time I had, and strolled across the hallway with an unusual sensation that told me I wasn't alone.

This feeling was proven right once I entered my room.

"Alice?"

If her random appearance was similar to the one made after my trip back from the hospital, it was only common sense to think I would've gotten a heart attack, especially with the thought of Victoria still lingering in my mind. But it was a casual greeting, her petite frame sitting on my bed, positioned beside the open window.

It was just… an unwelcoming surprise.

She provided me with one of her breathtaking smiles. "Hello."

"Um… hi," was my famous reply.

"You don't seem too enthusiastic to see me," Alice pointed out, jokingly. Her smile never faltered, but it didn't take another vampire to notice the darkening of her once honey colored eyes.

It would've been a lie to deny her remark, which is why I didn't. Oddly enough, Alice's presence awakened the misery I temporarily lost, and, although it was unknown as to why, the reaction alone was enough to force me into another state of confusion. I didn't see the point in hiding my emotions.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, refraining from adding any bitterness to the tone of my voice as I began rummaging through my untidy closet. "I thought you were supposed to keep me hostage at the hotel."

"Would you have preferred if I did?"

I didn't answer.

"Edward came just after you fell asleep. He said an agreement was made with the wolves, and it's now official that they'll be working together to find Victoria… and the others that are working for her," she told me, adding the best portion of her statement for last.

Even if there has always been a notion that there were more vampires other than Victoria after me, it still didn't soothe the effects of this verification.

And Alice appeared to have noticed as well. "It's going to be fine, Bella," she confirmed, waiting until I was irritated by my inability to find anything in my closet to say, "To your left, beneath the dress you said you would never wear after I gave it to you."

I quickly grabbed the t-shirt from the spot Alice pointed out, muttering a 'thank you.'

"I didn't think you wanted to stay at the hotel, which is why I took you to your house last night," she continued just as I was about to leave. "It would've saved you the trouble if Charlie didn't know you were with me, but the thought that the school would call never crossed my mind… or my visions. That was my fault."

I stood in front of the doorway silently, and pondered her words with a need to explain my reasoning. It was regret. It had to be.

I didn't dare turn around until I felt reassured that I wouldn't do anything stupid, because stupid, in my dictionary, was giving your best friend a hug after she rejected you just thirty-six hours previously. And turning around would make that stupidity reality.

"Thank you," I said, only the sincerity in these two meaningless words was far greater than what they appeared to be. "Are you… are you driving me to school?"

"If you want me to."

Of course I wanted her to.

"I'll call Angela and tell her, then," I whispered, hesitating between dragging my motionless body out of the room, and grabbing the dress that taunted me from the corner of my eye.

All in all, I ended up gripping it tightly between my fingers, eventually escaping the tension inconspicuously emerging.

"You look beautiful in it, you know," Alice whispered in the car, eyes planted on the road.

"Thank you," I muttered. The thoughts, 'I hate it. I hate it. I hate it,' constantly roamed within my mind, and every so often, I would scold myself for not bringing any spare clothes.

Of all the things I could forget…

I was the one to catch her staring this time, and it was the same procedure. She would smile and look away, and I would blush until I felt the world itself was heating up.

I didn't realize the process was broken until it happened more than once, and each time was what led to me catching Alice's gaze, and the sudden burst of awkward laughter that filled the car.

All good things end, however, just like they always did. The car came to a halt in front of the school, and a glimpse of the Volvo informed me that it was time to depart.

"I guess I'll see you after school?" I asked, nervously unfastening my seatbelt, anything to buy me more time.

"Not today," she answered back. "I have somewhere to go with Jasper… but Edward already plans to pick you up. Esme wanted to surprise you with dinner, but you were going to find out anyway."

"Right. Dinner," I whispered sullenly. "Edward."

It was foolish of me to disregard the fact that Alice could still hear, no matter how low I was able to speak. She followed me as I got out of the car, with me searching through my book bag on top of the hood, and her slamming the door, which instantly pulled me out of another reverie.

Alice looked at me rather oddly for a moment, her gaze transfixed to my face as if pondering a thought. It left me uncomfortable until it appeared as though she was about to speak.

All she could say was, "Bella, do you –," before a sharp ringing noise echoed across the school. A crowd of students flooded the parking lot within seconds, shattering the idea that there was no one else to worry about but the two of us.

I was beginning to despise my own imagination.

Bringing my attention back to Alice, I was almost certain I saw a hint of distress playing her expression, followed by a smile as she caught my eye. With a wave before I gained the opportunity to speak, she disappeared.

Never bet against her.

This was a fact that I had to relearn throughout the weeks of recovering from memory loss. True, the statement wasn't precise, but it was enough to send me into an anti happy phase. Dinner just happened to be a few days after it was supposed to take place.

"Bella, dear. Which do you prefer?" Esme asked me that evening, a blue bowl in one hand and a spoon in the other. "Spaghetti or lasagna?"

Honestly, I didn't see the difference. I mean, isn't spaghetti lasagna without the cheese or meat or whatever you put in spaghetti? Or was it just me being picky about food I barely remember ever eating?

"Spaghetti," I replied. If anything, I remember the food channel, and lasagna was most definitely more difficult to cook than spaghetti.

She nodded with a graceful smile, leaving the Cullen living room just as Emmett's booming voice exploded in the kitchen. I cringed. It wasn't like I didn't enjoy having Emmett toying around with his jokes.

I just preferred the quiet.

And anything that wasn't party related.

I was sitting on the couch in Carlisle and Rosalie's presence when Edward arrived, dressed in casual clothing that still made him appear dazzling to the human eye. It was sort of depressing to know that I was wearing jeans, and no matter the style of fashion, I would always be plain Bella.

With this thought, I sank against the cushion and sulked.

"You don't look like you're having much fun." Edward chuckled. He followed my route by taking a seat beside my moping frame, brushing his icy lips against my own.

I shrugged, not once taking my eyes off the stairs. "I don't see why you guys had to change the date. You could have just kept it on Wednesday."

"Then it wouldn't have been a surprise," he said. "Besides, we had to tell Charlie before making any sudden plans."

"He would've said yes either way," I grumbled.

"It's more polite to ask beforehand, love," Edward replied, taking hold of my hand with his. "He's not exactly as… welcoming as he was before."

Of course he was referring to Charlie's strict rules, though I couldn't control my thoughts on a different subject matter.

"You really can't blame him," I whispered coldly. "You got on his bad side when you left. I don't think he'll be 'welcoming' any time soon."

He squeezed my hand lightly, causing me to temporarily break away from my transfixed stare that I've been holding onto.

"You got your cast off yesterday," he went on, changing the subject by stating the obvious. "You haven't said anything about it."

"There's not much to say. I guess… I'm terribly happy that my chances of falling on my face have decreased," I muttered. "I wouldn't want to split my head open again."

I scooted away slightly when Edward's chest began to vibrate, jaw tightened in what, to me, appeared to be a menacing way. It took Emmett's cheer to make me grasp that he was growling.

"Emmett," Edward snarled, letting go of my hand to take possession of my waist. "Don't you dare."

Emmett came in with another one of his goofy grins; contagious, it seemed, when, for the first time ever, I caught a glimpse of Rose with a cheerful expression.

"Come on, Ed," he begged through the use of Edward's most despised nickname. "This could be her last chance. Who the hell knows when she'll be changed?"

"I do, and it's never going to happen!" Edward snapped. "You realize she's underage, right? Or are you really that stupid to think she won't be harmed?"

"Dude, chill. It's only alcohol. Humans drink it all the time," Emmett explained, finally making sense when he held up a bottle that read Vodka. "This is Bella's choice, and she wants to try it. Right, Bella?"

I blushed at the mention of my name, the fire merely rising in temperature when I became the center of attention.

"Boys, please don't pressure Bella into doing anything she does or doesn't want to do," Carlisle barged in. "And Emmett," he uttered. "It's not the best idea."

"Thank you, Carlisle!" Edward shouted. "At least someone in this family has common sense."

"You realize he's only saying that because you have to take her back later?" Rose spoke from her secluded area beside Carlisle. The sound of her voice caused me to double back in my seat. "Charlie gives you his trust with his only daughter, and she arrives home drunk. Really, Edward. You shouldn't be judging Emmett's stupidity when it's obvious you don't have a mind for yourself."

"My girl's right, Eddy," Emmett joked, wrapping an arm around Rose's shoulders, which, in return, earned him a shove to the side. "But," he pointed. "I must give you credit for ordering a bed for Bella."

"Bed?" I whispered curiously, only interested in this… strange conversation at the sound of my name.

"It's nothing, love," Edward whispered back. "My brother… he doesn't know what he's talking about."

"And that's where you're wrong," Emmett corrected, pointing a finger toward Edward that soon landed on me. "The guy's been in the virgin industry for over a century, Bella. The only reason he would order a bed is to seduce you, and if I were you, I'd watch out."

"Emmett." Edward sighed, clasping the bridge of his nose with two fingers. "For the last time, that is not why I'm getting a bed."

"Sure it's not. And vampires can sleep," Emmett indicated sarcastically. "He's planning on having sex with you."

"Emmett!"

Okay. This must mean that it was time to leave.

"I'm going to the bathroom," I muttered, more timidly, though difficult to believe, than my first day with the Cullens. I had a very good excuse for this, and I didn't need to constantly repeat it to myself as I made my way up the stairs. It was already permanently marked within my thoughts.

"I was joking, Bella!" I heard Emmett call out once I reached the second floor.

I ignored him, like I usually did whenever he began to piss me off, and strolled across the hallways as the voices slowly died out. Of course, I really wasn't going to the bathroom, nor was I planning on it. But it didn't seem like such a bad idea. I recently learned that, next to my bedroom, the bathroom was a sanctuary to me, a place I could take refuge in with or without the thoughts to distract me.

I turned a corner after a few moments of wandering around, absorbed in anything but my surroundings. I supposed that was why I unknowingly ended up in front of the door, shoving it open without a knock or even a warning for anyone who was already in there.

That anyone just happened to be Alice.

"Oh!" I gasped softly, blushing once again at the sight of her, fully clothed and doing… absolutely nothing. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to – I mean, I should've knocked –"

It seemed a bit odd to see Alice sitting on the bathroom floor, isolated from everyone and everything. But I really wasn't one to talk when I did it all the time. What really had me was the silence met through my useless stuttering, and the curious gaze she held while sitting still.

There wasn't much to say when we haven't spoken for a while.

"I… I should probably go now," I muttered.

I was just about to leave before I was pulled back; not violently, but fierce enough to send me staggering into Alice's arms, who, much to my surprise, held me up in an easy position to say,

"I knew you were coming."

"You mean –"

"I wanted to show you something," she stated, loosening her grip on my waist so I could face her.

"Now?"

Alice laughed. "Yes. Now," she demanded playfully, which was a surprise itself. I was speechless when she took hold of my hand, tugging at it in a direction that she must've been referring to as the house. "Follow me."

Like I had a choice.

I wouldn't say I was being dragged like a stray dog, because honestly, I was just as curious to see what was up with Alice's sudden enthusiasm as she was… well… excited. But something told me that if I had any resistance toward this 'follow the leader' game, there wouldn't be a second option. It only seemed right to obey as I was led to the west wing of the house, a section I was vaguely familiar with.

"Where're we going?" I finally asked.

She didn't respond, and I didn't take it to heart for once, because I easily became distracted by the dead end in which we stopped at, teasing me with a white wall that couldn't go any further.

This time, I knew when to shut up.

There was a reason why the western part of the house remained foreign to me, and this dead end was the simplest way to explain it. There were a few rooms located within the same hallways, and only one was being used; Carlisle's office. The rest were either closets or storage space for the infinite amount of things the Cullens possessed.

So when I watched Alice pull down some kind of door from the ceiling, to say I was fascinated was an understatement.

"Is this… an attic?" I uttered.

"Uh huh."

I didn't know what to expect. Wasn't it about time that I was told the truth about vampires? That they really do sleep in coffins? And magically turn into bats whenever they felt like it? It seemed like the perfect place to hide these things, with a staircase to add a little decoration.

How could I describe my reaction when I realized it was just another attic like any other?

It was a disappointment, to be honest, as I studied the stacks of boxes accompanied by dust, cobwebs, and, when there were cobwebs, there were always spiders. The stream of moonlight from the window was the only source of light illuminating the small room, casting some creepy shadows along the walls and ceiling, which was curved in a way that told me we were just below the roof.

"We normally don't have secrets in this house," Alice murmured quietly, her voice practically hauling my attention. "But we have our privacy, and if there's something we don't want to share, then of course we should have the right to keep it.

"To shorten it up a bit, I keep all my memories from the past here, and items that just… resemble what I was able collect from my human years. This is what I hide from my family. Obviously it doesn't stop them from sneaking in anyway, but it's trust that holds us together. Love," she went on. "My visions help, too… but even Emmett knows when to back off."

She laughed when she said this, softly and, if I didn't know any better, sadly. "Besides Jasper, you're the only one I ever showed it to."

I knew I was selfish. I knew it was horrible to feel envy over this little fact; that I was second, and behind Jasper, of course. But it was only brief and subtle, hidden beneath the great amount of joy and absolute delight I felt. It didn't matter all that much what place I took in Alice's trust and love. If I wasn't allowing my pride to prevail, I knew I already had a tremendous seat.

If only… it didn't sadden me to think it wasn't the seat I wanted.

"That's my sister, Cynthia," she told me, eyeing the photo of a young woman I held in my hand. "She's been dead for years now, but she had a daughter. My niece… she's still alive."

"She's beautiful," I muttered, tracing the outline of the girl's face, and studied the similarities between her and Alice. "You two look so much alike."

"Thank you."

I shook my head. "I should be the one thanking you," I said. "For showing me this… Alice… it means a lot to me."

"And I don't regret it. At all." She smiled, walking over to a corner on the other side. She twirled around with her arms out, as if presenting a work of art. "So? What do you think?"

"About the attic?" I asked, and she nodded. "Hm… well," I muttered, playfully tapping the end of my jaw with my index finger. "It's not the most romantic place…"

I snapped my eyes close as soon as the words escaped my mouth, mentally scolding myself over and over again. Why the hell did I say that? Why?

"I'm sorry. I – I didn't mean it like that – I meant… you know, in general. It's not romantic for anyone. In general. No one. Or you and Jasper, in your c –"

I wasn't aware of her proximity at the time, as there was a safe distance between us. Nothing that could put a complete halt to my words. So when she was suddenly in front me, one of her hands tenderly caressing my jaw, well… I stopped talking.

"It's okay," she whispered. "You can say what you want. No one will hear."

My eyes widened, letting out a strange yelp.

I wasn't entirely sure what it was that nearly had me on my knees. It could've been her scent. It had to be – that cinnamon-like smell that was causing the ridiculously quick rhythm of the blood streaming through my veins, overcoming the leveled heartbeat from earlier on.

But I could see her then. Clearly. More clearly than I ever thought was a possibility as the light pants of her steady breathing were within contact of my skin. Flesh that tingled beneath the scorching heat that wasn't radiating due to the temperature of the room.

"Wh – what are you doing?" I managed to stammer.

This seemed to break her out of her stupor, because all too soon the realization began to sink in and her eyes, which were pitch black by then, looked at me as if I was the one to be fearful of. She took a step back.

"Alice."

"We should go back," was her response. "Edward will be looking for you."

"Wait, no. What the hell was that ab –"

But she was gone before I could finish.

And as I stood there alone, unmoving, unfeeling, and unthinking… I began to wonder.

I began to panic.

What just happened?