Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or My Sister's Keeper. Nor am I racist
BPOV
"So what's it like to have a twin?" I murmur a question I've never once asked him. I gaze carefully at the road, but I detect him stirring from the corner of my eye. The stoplight turns green.
"It's nothing special." He responds fluidly.
"I was under the impression twins had some sort of special connection." I tighten my grip on the steering wheel; we're driving toward the hospital.
"Well, that's a supposition that could be considered correct." I see him smile from my peripheral vision and I make a left hand turn.
"How so?" I turn my head to drink in his appearance.
"Bells, keep your eyes on the road." He rolls his eyes and smirks lovingly.
"Oops." I mutter and snap my head back.
"It's complicated to explain," He finally begins. "Someone without a twin would find it difficult to grasp."
"Try me." I slow to a stop at a red light.
"Well, twins have an irreplaceable connection. They possess a bond that cannot be duplicated between any two other people." The light turns green and I accelerate while nodding for him to continue.
"It's…" He sighs. "I don't know how to explain."
"What kind of bond?" I purse my lips and slow for a stop sign.
"I suppose telepathically. I know it sounds absolutely mental, but if your twin were in trouble, hurt, even dead you'd… know." He muses lightly.
"How?" I furrow my brow and make a right hand turn.
He shrugs. "It's a built in radar." He raises his free hand to tap his temple lightly, an action I witness from my peripheral. I turn my head to him again, yet before I can speak he jerks the steering wheel within my hands. What ensues is a blare of the horn from the opposing car.
"Bella," He scowls. "Keep your eyes on the road." I turn crimson and proceed to tentatively gaze out the window.
"Sorry." I bite my lip; if I were to place one, solitary scratch on his car I'm not sure he'd allow me to live with him.
"It's all right." Amusement returns to his silky voice.
"So how?" I continue.
"A built in radar." He repeats as I take a left hand turn.
"Give me an example." I crease my brow and turn the blinker off.
He sighs. "You could be across the world and you'd know if your twin was injured."
"So it's like Spidey-senses?" I smile.
"You don't tingle," He scoffs and chuckles. "You just know."
"That's not very descriptive." I refute and turn on the right hand blinker.
"Your twin is your other half." He drips sarcastically.
"I know… I just don't understand it all that much." I drum my fingers against the steering wheel at a stoplight.
"Of course; you're an only child."
I wrinkle my nose. "So when you got in the accident," The atmosphere goes solemn. "Did Alice know?"
"Yes."
"How?" I repeat myself.
"She just did. Why is it she was at the hospital an hour before you? Trust me, she told me this bit." He states and I bite my lip. It happens to be the truth that Alice was already pacing outside the surgical ward before I even had time to answer the call.
"And every incident you've had in your life? The first car accident?" I wince, however, he doesn't flinch.
"She knew."
"Specifically?" I bite my lip.
"No, not the specifics. She called all night, however. I had to turn my phone off." He's gazing at me.
"So that's why your phone was off?" I sigh. He nods from my peripheral.
"And every time you've had a seizure?" I prod.
"Yes."
"Why didn't she come visit you?" I accelerate slightly.
"Bella," He scowls. "I thought it was apparent her and I did not speak for a few years."
I turn crimson once again. "Right…"
It's silent for a moment as the only sound in his silver Volvo is Sam's heavy breathing in the back seat.
"So it was difficult." I comment bluntly.
"What was?" He has not taken his green eyes off me.
"Your estrangement with Alice. You said it yourself that twins have an irreplaceable bond."
"It's like trying to hide from your shadow." He jokes and I crack a smile.
"So whenever she got hurt, did you know?" We're around a mile from the hospital now.
"Of course." He nods.
"Like when?" He ponders for a moment and then he breaks into a crooked smile.
"When her and I were both sixteen, she broke her foot at ballet," He pauses again to emit a beautiful laugh. "I had this feeling… quite ominous to say the least, so I sped over to her ballet studio. Next thing you know, five minutes later she's in the passenger seat shrieking at me with a broken foot. I had to carry her into the emergency room flailing," He grins wildly and I have to suppress laughter at the thought. "It was the incident that ultimately caused her to quit." He finishes.
"So that's why she quit dance?" I ponder this enlightenment.
He nods. "You can't resume ballet after an injury of that caliber."
"I suppose it was a good thing. She discovered fashion." I wrinkle my nose once again and pull into the hospital parking lot.
"A good thing?" He raises his eyebrows and we laugh in unison.
"So why didn't you know when she was going into labor?" I question, puzzled, as we both recount that day in court. He assesses this for a moment and finally sighs.
"It wasn't solely about her. Not her and I, as I so stated we are two halves. Another - Annabel, was involved, and I suppose this is when the twin instinct times out." I slide into a parking space and cut the engine.
"When someone else is involved," I repeat. "Is that why she…" I begin to piece carefully.
"Didn't know about my pain regarding you? Yes." He murmurs. I bite my lip and he leans over to snatch his keys from the ignition. Before retracting however, he plants a kiss on my collarbone, an action causing me to shiver with happiness. However, I don't have time to react before he's already outside his car, opening the door to let Sam trot out.
I scowl and slip outside of the vehicle as well before he is already at my side.
"Ready?" His beautiful face is solemn as he grabs my hand. At that moment, a searing pain rips through my skull and I wince as a repercussion.
"Are you all right?" He asks attentively.
I nod. "Yeah it's… well… you know." I smile meekly and avoid the subject of my menstrual cycle.
"Right," He finishes uncomfortably. I laugh weakly and he squeezes my hand. I close my eyes and he allows me to recollect my composure for around a minute. Finally, he impedes. "Ready now, love?"
I nod once, barely recomposed, and we walk, hands clasped, toward the entrance with Sam following.
Her ICU room is brightly lit. It conveys cheer, albeit the tragedy in the gurney. Bouquets, cards and gifts are laden throughout the perimeter of her room, all of them pertaining to get well soon or we love you. A large stuffed bear sits gently atop her bedside table, and then I wonder who did all this. Her family? That can't be so… Disregarding this, I finally bring myself to look at her. My eyes well up.
Elizabeth is lying in her hospital bed equipped with numerous, protruding tubes. They snake from her head, torso, side… all leading toward their respective destinations. Her hair, now a layer of light brown fuzz, hides underneath the heavily bandaged display upon her head. Several patches of this fuzz jut from beneath the white, and this is when I spot the end of his long, jagged surgical scar.
Edward cringes at this. He has a matching one on his arm.
"Stop." I sigh and turn to him. He refuses to look at the destruction he has caused the girl who was once our client. His head is turned, his green eyes stare hard at a crack in the white wall.
"What?" He asks quietly, flatly. The green eyes do not leave the crack.
"Blaming yourself." I say under my breath, in sanctity of Elizabeth's presence. He ignores me and I feel a twinge of nostalgia – this is the return of the frosty, rigid man of the past eight years. Not Edward.
After gazing at him, I tear myself away and walk carefully toward her bed. They took her off the ventilator yesterday; she can now breath independently. This much can fuel a sliver of hope, can't it? The tube atop her fragile head is a shunt. My medical terminology course at Yale taught me once upon a time that this apparatus is used to drain excess blood and fluid from the cranium. Of course, attached to her snaking catheter is a ruby red drainage bag filled with plasma and other substances from her leaking brain.
In accordance, her face is swollen. Bruising around her eyes cause the pallid complexion of her skin to clash in stark contrast with the purple, blue splotches. Elizabeth is not a pale girl. Death decided to paint her skin white, however.
At the side of her bed, I reach my hand forward to touch her cheek. Lightly, so lightly, the tips of my fingers brush against her colorless cheekbone. At this, the dam to my tear ducts break and I withdraw my hand to utilize my fingers toward eliminating the tears.
Edward doesn't move.
"I'm getting a doctor." I sniffle. He slowly raises his head.
"Why?" He responds vacuously and my nostalgic fear deepens; I just got him back.
"I need to know if she's going to live." I blink rapidly, attempting to subdue the tears. His green eyes gaze vapidly at my own and I suck in deeply as I fumble past him, toward the door.
……….
"Her intracranial pressure has decreased." Her ICU doctor taps his clipboard and glances up at me.
"Is that good?" I nibble my lip.
"Yes, it means she won't have to go back into surgery anytime soon. The ceased pressure on her brain has stabilized the swelling." He peers at me through his wire-rimmed glasses.
"Okay," I sigh. "So do you have a prognosis on her outcome?" He frowns slightly.
"It's difficult to say at the moment. However, she's made immense improvement from the past… few days." He manages. He means since her sister's death.
"Yes…" I mumble. "And I was told she was taken off her ventilator." Edward and Sam stand next to me, although the rigid man of the past few years is still present.
"Yes, yesterday," The doctor nods. "It's hopeful she can breathe independently but there are still chances of increased ICP, stroke, heart failure, seizure…" At the latter, Edward freezes.
"So will she have permanent brain damage?" His velvet voice, now monotonous, asks.
"Again, it's difficult to say. Because she didn't have a stroke she should have full use of speech, movement, et cetera. However, psychological effects cannot be determined at this point in her condition."
Edward simply nods. "Thank you." I touch my hand lightly to his free arm and he flinches.
"She's been on steroids since the crash," The doctor continues. Again, Edward flinches at the last word. "We're placing her on several other medications for swelling."
"How long will she be comatose?" I whisper, my hand still on Edward's arm.
"I don't know. She could wake up today, tomorrow, or in five years. I really don't know, Ms. Swan." He glances back down at his clipboard.
"Thank you, doctor…" I trail and turn to leave. However, I stop myself. A compelling force begins to speak for itself, all the result of a burning curiosity. "Sir?" I ask lightly. Edward slowly turns his head toward me.
"Yes?" He glances up.
"Has her family visited?" An ominous feeling suddenly settles into my core as I realize I don't want to know anymore.
Sorrow washes over his face and I glance down swiftly.
"Her brother."
"Have her parents?" I ask meekly. The doctor gazes at the linoleum tile sadly.
"No."
"And that's why we're here." Edward speaks before I do. I glance up at him and he gazes back at me; his green eyes thawed. He's come to peace within himself.
"God bless," The doctor murmurs and scratches his balding head. "She needs someone, poor girl." He falters and lowers his professionalism façade.
"Us." Edward responds, once again shocking me. The doctor nods.
"If she wakes up, let's hope her family can take after you two."
…………
In the car, I turn on the stereo and crank the volume.
"What are you doing?" Edward glances at me.
"Listening to music." I sigh. He spins the volume knob down three notches and I reach my hand out to stop him.
"Bella?" He asks softly and my hand is still on top of his.
"What?" I respond inaudibly.
"Are you okay?" His voice is dripping honey, a substance I did not know could crack people.
"No." I accelerate.
"I think she'll wake up." He assuages and I sigh deeply.
"That's not it," I murmur and attempt to pry his hand off the volume knob. "It's that her family hasn't visited.
"Jacob did." His hand doesn't budge.
"What about her parents?" I ask, upset, "And Edward, just let me listen to music." I yank his hand.
"This is music?" He raises an eyebrow at me and then the stereo system. Pink Floyd thumps from the bass.
"Yes." I mutter.
"This depressive wailing? It's not helping you, Bella." He speaks softly and I finally withdraw my hand after running a red light.
"It's not right," I shake my head fervently. "I understand Billy and Rebecca are mourning but they have other children to care for." I slow to a stop at the next red light.
"Of course it's not right." He says simply. I jerk my head toward him.
"So if she wakes up, what parents will she have?" I ask desperately. He blinks his green eyes and reaches his undamaged hand out to brush my cheek with his thumb.
"We can be." He murmurs quietly as I gasp.
"What?"
"We can attain guardianship." He begins and I shake my head once again.
"Not without her parents' consent." My libel knowledge stirs.
"I know," He nods. "But a suit can be presented for neglect." I gasp again and ignore the fact the light turned green.
"You're joking." I breathe, wide-eyed.
"No. And I know you, Bella. You'll agree because it is in fact neglect." I wasn't fighting his manipulative, cunning logic.
"But…" I trail.
"But what? It's not right? Do tell me how it is just in terms of a comatose adolescent currently on her deathbed with the addition of parental neglect." His eyes blaze and I have to turn my head from the searing intensity. I accelerate.
"Jacob is 18." I comment bluntly.
"Jacob can't take care of her," He scoffs. "Besides, he asked me to."
I slam the brakes and pull the car onto the side of the curb.
"What?" I blurt.
"He wants us to." He repeats softly. I sit silently for a moment before I finally turn to him.
"How the hell are we going to be her guardians, Edward?" It comes out quietly rather than fierce.
"Well, you're phenomenal with children." He tilts his head slightly.
"What about you?" I scowl.
"I'm going to try." He murmurs and I relent.
"We're not even married! Or engaged, hell, I don't even know if we're officially a couple! Everything just… happened. How would that be a stable environment for Elizabeth? " I spill and he smiles.
"Did I not propose to you?" He raises an eyebrow and I turn crimson.
"We're sort of engaged…" I admit. "But what does that even mean? We jumped from enemies to… to to an engagement?" I shake my head.
"Okay," He shrugs and clicks open the glove compartment to retrieve a pen and notepad. With his right hand, he scrawls onto the piece of paper, rips it off and hands it to me. "Very 6th grade-esque." He can't hide a smile. I glance down at the perfect script in my hands.
Will you be my girlfriend? Can I hold your hand in the lunchroom? Underneath are two boxes: one for yes and the second for no. I hiss under my breath but then laugh. I check one of the boxes and hand it back to him.
"You're so immature." I roll my eyes roar the Volvo's engine to life.
"Not really. I'm just trying to lighten the mood." He shrugs and folds the piece of paper, the one checked yes.
I scowl again. "That was romantic." He laughs.
"I was under the impression you've been my girlfriend." He smirks and my heart flutters at a high velocity.
"I guess." I mutter under my breath.
"But in all seriousness, Bella, you're my gorgeous, intelligent, caring lady. I won't take no for an answer, I'll kidnap you later if you decide I'm not your boyfriend. Oops, that's right, you live with me." He grins crookedly and I laugh while blindly swatting him with my right hand; my eyes are on the road.
"Good to know I live with a kidnapper."
"Yeah, I'll show you wear I keep my dungeon full of abducted children later." He grins as I can't contain a snort of laughter.
"Great, sounds like a date."
…………
His receptionist glances up from her desk. Her head, once buried in the piles of paperwork, now gazes at us. Her body is frozen as the tip of her pen stops its scrawl and her brown curls still.
"Hi, Mr. Cullen," She thaws and breezes in a chipper manner. "It's wonderful to have you back." She rises from her seat swiftly but he stops her with an outstretched palm.
"Thank you, Jessica." He smiles warmly and she returns the same.
"Do you need me to help you with anything?" The beam remains plastered on her face; she has not glanced at me once.
He shakes his head. "That's quite all right. However, it's rude to disregard company." He gestures to me and my cheeks burn a shade of crimson. Hers do as well, yet not at the same velocity.
"Oh, hi Ms. Swan." She strays her eyes to me and then back to her boss. Her tone indicates apathy; she was bitter about my allotted time spent with Edward during trial.
"Hello." I strain a smile, however, she only has eyes for him.
"Well," He interrupts the thickened silence. "I suppose it would be appropriate for me to pick up a new case. Do you have any new clients for me, Jessica?" He ruffles his hair and raises his green eyes toward the ceiling.
"Oh," She replies, engrossed in his beauty. "Yes, I'll place them in your office now." She throws on another perfect smile and proceeds to furiously scribble onto a yellow Post-it note.
"I better get going," I mumble as he turns toward me. "I'll pick you up later." I withdraw his keys from my bag and he takes a step forward.
"Yes, later." He smiles gloriously. I nod once and turn to leave when he leans in and plants a lingering kiss on my lips. My poor, battered ribcage barricades the tenacity of my thumping heart and when he pulls away, I sigh contentedly. It never gets old.
"Bye." He winks and Jessica Stanley nearly falls out of her chair.
Emmett POV
Boredom is a disease. But with every disease comes a cure. Well, almost every. You know what I mean.
"Rose, there is nothing to do." I boom, mid-complaint, to my fiancée. She appears from the living room, pink curlers in her hair, and drinks in my appearance as I sit dejectedly at the kitchen counter.
"And?" She purses her lips. I outstretch my arms toward her.
"I'm bored. Give me some lovin'." She saunters over and sighs.
"Maybe some other time."
"Ouch." I recoil.
"Babe, that's not what I mean. I'm going out with Bella in a few minutes." She steps forward and takes my hands within hers.
"So?" I pout.
"So, I haven't seen her in a few weeks." She refutes and brings her arms in to mash my palms together.
"But you talk on the phone all the time." I whine.
"It's not the same." She scowls and drops her hands from mine.
"Women." I mutter, incoherently, under my breath. At this moment she checks the green glow of the stove time and plucks a curler from her hair.
"Time to go." She chirps and proceeds to eliminate the rest of her hair of those womanly contraptions.
"Urgh." I groan and help her retrieve one of the contraptions she missed.
"Bye babe, don't do anything stupid while I'm gone." I'll be sure to, I think. She smiles and then eyes me warily. After kissing her for too long, she finally pulls away and turns to leave.
"Tell Bell hey." I call after her.
What the hell? I check the time: 2:05 PM. It's a Thursday. What the hell is there to do at 2:05 on a Thursday? I consider calling Jasper but then opt against doing so; the poor guy is probably changing diapers and helping Alice with a catalog. Or, he's at work… most likely the latter. I'll cut him slack though; he has a kid now. Alice? No. She probably nabbed a sitter and is in on the feminine outing with Bella and Rose. This leaves one person.
Edward.
Well, the poor guy is probably at physical therapy or work. However, a sliver of brilliance enters my train my thought. I could always prank call him if he were working… However, the tiny angel within me refutes that he needs a break. His arm, the one injured in the crash, is of course a daily reminder of that tragic day. Hm…
Oh well, he has Bella to cheer him up at night. And if she isn't, I need to demand why. Well, she is terribly thoughtful, so maybe she would consider it a strain on his injury? I scoff. I mean, a man of that caliber is capable of pulling off the deed one-armed right? I place an arm behind my back to reenact his handicap. However, to be more realistic, I bring my arm out from behind my back and prop it into a casted position.
Strange, I conclude. Strange but doable.
Emmett, the voice inside my head hisses. Stop thinking about whether or not Bella and Edward get it on and do something with your lazy ass.
Yellow pages. The yellow pages. Sorry Edward. I uproot myself from the kitchen counter and saunter into the den. The one bookcase I keep in the far corner holds the thick directory. I pluck it from its respective position and thumb through the pages, heading straight toward the attorney section. After a rigorous two minutes of flipping through, I find it.
Cullen at Law it prints and proceeds to list a phone number. Perfect.
It takes three rings before a chipper secretary picks up the phone.
"Cullen at Law," She purrs into the phone. "How may I assist you today?"
"Haaalllloooo? Lika someboodee needa halp me!" I throw on an Asian accent.
"Pardon, sir?" She responds, puzzled.
"I need lawya. Lawya!"
"Oh… er, I'll forward you to him. What's your name?"
"No name… My muddah neva ruv me." I choke a cry.
"Oh… Er, right. Yes… Just a moment please." I hear a click and I hum to abide the time. A minute later, I hear his voice.
"Hello sir, how may I help you today?"
"Haaaallloooo?"
"Hello?"
"Halllooo meester. I like to place orda fo two-tirty peek aph."
"…Pardon?" He asks puzzled, just as his secretary.
"I say I like to place orda fo peek aph."
"Sir," He sighs. "This is an attorney's office, not a restaurant."
"Ooooooooh."
"Yes… well… -"
"Meester, no! I need lawya!"
"Hence reasoning why you contacted my office?" He snips.
"You seeah, sooombahh dee attack my muddah!"
"Excuse me?"
"A man fak my muddah! He go BANG BANG!"
"Sir, you need to refrain from using that language." He sighs.
"Oh why? You no big boi? C'mon big boiii, you no wear diapers no more."
"Sir –"
"You no big boi… Me thought lawyas men. Big strrrong men."
"I am a big boy." He growls into the phone and I have to cover the mouthpiece from my laughter. At recomposing myself from my chuckles, I straight myself out.
"Can youah esplayn to meee how you a big boii?" I snicker.
"Excuse me? Look, I don't have time for prank calls." He iterates, peeved.
"No! No no no no. No prank call, this fo real." I snigger.
"Then what do you need?" He hisses.
"I told you! Meesta, a man attack my famiree. My muddah! My grandmuddah!"
"When?" He asks bluntly.
"You hava da won ton soup big boii?" I bite my lip from the laughter.
"Mister – "
"NO! No no no no. I wanta da LANCH. I hungry! You racist! Racist! Racism no allowed here, I thought you lawya."
"Sir, I'm going to hang up now."
"NO! I go ova der, you dirty boii. I keel yo famiree, dammit. Big boi, I fak you!"
I hear a click and the other line goes dead.
"Asshole." I grin to myself and chuckle as I dial another number.
"Hello?" She answers on the second ring.
"Bella, hey. I need your help."
"With what, Emmett?" She asks cautiously.
"I need to prank call Edward." I grin into the phone.
"Something tells me you already have."
"How could you question my innocence?" I choke back a laugh.
"…Yeah… no." She sighs.
"No to what?"
"Your innocence."
"Silly Bella, I don't know what you're talking about." I snort.
She snorts as well. "Right. So what do you want, Em?"
"I need you to help me prank call him." I repeat.
"Why?" She asks suspiciously.
"Please, please, please, Bells. He's been uptight, I need to unwind him."
"He didn't seem very uptight earlier." She refutes.
"How so?"
"He made some joke about being a kidnapper." She half-laughs. I gasp.
"That's perfect."
…………
"Hi Jessica, do you think you can forward me to Edward, please?" Bella purrs into the three-way call.
"Yeah." The receptionist mutters and the two of us are forwarded to our awaiting victim.
"Bella." Edward's voice wafts lovingly. I snicker.
"Edward," She responds. "How's work?"
"Fine. And how are you?" He sighs in a bored tone.
"I could… be better. You see, this man is convinced you really kidnap children."
"You're joking." He laughs freely into the phone.
"Actually, no. He'd like to ask you a few questions." A giggle slips from her lips.
He sighs. "This is ridiculous."
"Why?" She questions innocently.
"Some fool phoned me earlier about take-out."
I snigger. "Oh?" Her voice wavers.
"Is this a joke, Bella?" He sighs impatiently. Crap. She's going to crack.
"N-no…" She begins. I sigh in relief.
"Then put him on."
"Mr. Cullen," I boom in an authoritative tone. "How are you today?"
"Fine," He responds. "And yourself?"
"Grand. So I'd like to ask a few questions about your… activities."
"Go ahead." An edge of venom coats his welcoming.
"Do you abduct children?" I contain a laugh.
"No." Blunt.
"Why?"
"Pardon?"
"Why don't you abduct children?" I hum.
"Because it's illegal?" He drips sarcasm.
"But they're tasty." I can hear Bella giggle lightly in the background of our three-way.
"Are they?" Edward sighs.
"Very much so, Sir. However, I was under the impression you keep a dungeon full of them?"
"Oh I do," He begins to play along. "You see, my girlfriend seasons them." He states, fully aware of Bella on the third line. Directly after she chokes out a high-pitched laugh and I guffaw once.
"Well my fiancée like to use pepper."
"My dog doesn't like pepper."
"Does your dog sit with you at the dinner table?"
"Always."
I snort. "And the children?"
"In the dungeon."
"So how is it you keep a dungeon in an apartment?" I jokingly prod.
"I painted the guest bedroom black and took out the windows. Goodness, Sir, certainly a man of your status would know such a thing." He acts and Bella laughs.
"Of course."
"And where, may I ask, do you keep your dungeon?"
"In my sock drawer." I state.
"That's certainly space efficient." He muses.
"It is, unlike yours."
"I know. I'll keep note of this."
"I'll remind you later." Bella sings into the phone and I guffaw. Edward can't contain a chuckle.
"Yes well… I've got to go, Mr. McCarthy. I'm a busy man. I actually need to pick up a paying case in order to support Bella here," Her and I laugh as we hear the clacking of his keyboard in the background. "Have a nice day."
EPOV
"Yes well… I've got to go, Mr. McCarthy. I'm a busy man. I actually need to pick up a paying case in order to support Bella here," I smile as I imagine her own beautiful smile on the other line. Then, I open up the Internet on my computer. "Have a nice day." I hang up the phone and proceed to one-handedly go about my business.
"God damn it." I growl.
The bomb just went off at the 2, causing all the squares on my Minesweeper screen to explode.
Sorry about the long wait! I had writer's block... So huge shoutout to FreeHell, she's the bomb
and helped me with the prank call! Check out her stuff. Anyway, I'm not racist and I don't hate
children. On the contrary, I'm half-asian and love children. Great. Thanks for reading! I hope you found it funny =]
kisses always, JennyCullen44