A/N: Hi, all! I'm on time this week! I actually blew through this update really quickly, which kinda surprised me, so I'm just waiting to wake up in two days to realize it's crap and totally needs to be redone. Sigh. It's because I've been wrestling with "Lullaby," all week, which hasn't been nearly as easy. There's just so much I don't know about that one yet! Thanks to everyone for sticking with me, and to my UK Consultant, Hev99, whose wealth of knowledge will be put to use as soon as Bella gets her butt out of the house. Maybe next chapter?
All standard disclaimers apply.
As Children After Play
Heidi stared wistfully at the large house before her as she pulled into the driveway. She was really not looking forward to this discussion. Everything she knew about the Cullens told her that this was a warm, loving family. Her previous visit had only reinforced that image. She didn't want to disturb them. There were very few couples willing to accept teenagers into their homes, and Dr. and Mrs. Cullen had welcomed five of them, plus the new baby. All of the children Heidi had met earlier were polite and well-spoken, which said a lot about the family's parenting. Many children from the system could only be rehabilitated to a certain point; anything beyond that was impossible. Their early years left too many scars, too much disillusionment. They knew too much for their years, and what they knew told them that being polite and kind got them nowhere.
How the senior Cullens managed to break through those walls with their teenagers, Heidi didn't know. She knew it wasn't simply dumb luck, knew the Cullen parents hadn't just managed to get five amazingly well-adjusted kids with little to no baggage. She saw those scars on the blond boy's arms, and she'd seen the wariness in his sister's eyes, even before she'd heard a little of the girl's story. These kids had known darkness. But they weren't broken by it. Something about this family had helped them heal.
Which was why Heidi resolutely did not want to be here, digging into their private life and asking them personal questions. But she really had no other option. Isabella's father had called yesterday, and he'd had some very disturbing things to say. Things Heidi did not want to hear. She had no doubt that someone had hurt that girl very badly, but whether it was her father or not remained to be seen. She needed to talk to the Cullens again, and more than anything, she needed to talk to Bella herself. But Chief Swan claimed that the Cullens had stolen Bella and hidden her away somewhere. Heidi doubted it. Dr. Cullen really didn't seem like the type to go against the law like that. But Heidi needed to know for sure.
She got out of her car slowly, closing the door as quietly as possible. She didn't have children of her own, but her sister did and she knew the slam of a car door was enough to wake a lightly-sleeping baby. Adjusting the strap of the bag on her shoulder, she took a deep breath and headed for the porch.
Dr. Cullen opened the door before she could knock, and his smile was calm and welcoming, as always.
"Come in, come in," he said, waving her inside. "It's about to start raining again any minute."
"Welcome," his wife added, slipping into the foyer and giving Heidi a warm smile. "It's wonderful to see you again. Mason's down for his nap and the other kids are at school."
"Lucky you caught me on a day off," Dr. Cullen added as he closed the door. "My schedule at the hospital's been a tad crazy lately. There just aren't enough of us - budget cuts, and all. I'm sure you understand."
"I do," Heidi agreed. She couldn't help but smile at this couple. They were the dream parents, the ones every social worker fantasized about finding for her clients. Though Dr. Cullen's hand was cold when she shook it, their every word and movement exuded warmth. Their children were very, very lucky. "I need to apologize for the short notice, too, but there are some things we need to discuss that just couldn't wait."
"Come in and sit down, then," Mrs. Cullen said, motioning Heidi toward the living room. Not for the first time, Heidi noticed how immaculate it looked. Mrs. Cullen worked from home, but she obviously took great pains in keeping the house nice as well. "Tea or coffee?"
"No, thank you," Heidi said quickly. It was always harder to discuss difficult topics when she was holding a gift of hospitality, like coffee, in her hand. "Dr. and Mrs. Cullen, I'd like to get straight to the point."
"Carlisle and Esme, please," Dr. Cullen said. "We're not much for formality. And I very much prefer plain speaking. It makes everything so much easier."
Heidi agreed. "All right, then," she said, taking a breath and laying her bag on her knees. She took out Isabella's case file, a yellow pad of lined paper, and a pen. "I received a call from Chief Swan yesterday."
Carlisle and Esme shared a glance that Heidi could not interpret, but she did not feel either of them tense up. That was good.
"He had many things to say."
"He often does," Esme murmured.
"Usually the official course of action with domestic disputes is to keep the separate parties separate. But there's nothing usual about this case, and I want to be as honest with you as I can about his...concerns."
"We appreciate that," Carlisle said quietly. "We'll do our best to be forthright with you, as well."
Heidi let out a soft sigh of relief. "Thank you," she said. "I'd hoped you would."
"Anything for Bella and Mason." Esme's words were heartfelt.
"I need to inform you, then, that Chief Swan has made some very disturbing claims regarding both his daughter and the baby."
"I'm not at all surprised." Esme's face closed over, looking both tired and angry. "What has he said?"
"He wants the adoption annulled and his grandson turned over to his care."
"On what grounds?" Carlisle asked, his voice still quiet, though not quite as calm.
"On the grounds that Bella falsified information, and that you knew about it."
Carlisle and Esme gave each other another speaking glance. They were sitting on either side of Heidi on the big white couch, and she could not see both of their faces at the same time. She wished she could. It would make this so much easier. She prided herself on being an excellent judge of character, but in this case she felt adrift.
"I know of several lies Bella has told," Carlisle said finally. "All for understandable reasons. What information, exactly, is the chief talking about?"
"He claims that Jacob Black is not Mason's birth father."
There was another speaking glance. Then Carlisle took a deliberate deep breath and let it out. "I suspected," he said, "but I will not claim to have known for sure."
"What made you suspect?" Heidi asked. She was willing to bet that the Cullens knew more than they were letting on in this case, but she was also more than willing to give them the benefit of the doubt. If they had withheld information, it was for one of two reasons. Either they felt it was in Bella's best interests, or she had asked them to do so. Heidi could blame them for neither. That poor girl - after watching that video Carlisle took of her admitting to abuse...Heidi herself wanted to do whatever was in her power to help, and she hardly knew Bella.
"On the video, she refused to answer any questions about sexual abuse," Carlisle said steadily. Heidi recognized the tone of his voice. It was his clinical voice, his doctor's voice. Not a father's voice. That somehow made her feel better. If Carlisle were as troubled as all that, to not be able to talk about Bella's trouble as a friend of the family, then surely whatever he did - if, indeed, anything - stemmed from caring, nothing more. "And then, later, she sent us a note. It's private, and I don't want to share the whole of it, but I will read you part of it, if you wish?"
"Please," Heidi said quickly.
Carlisle opened a slim little drawer in the coffee table and drew out a creased piece of notebook paper. "I won't give this to you," he said, reinforcing his earlier words. "I know you want to help, but Bella is a very private girl and I want her privacy respected as much as possible. She said some things to members of my family in this letter that are for their ears only."
"I have no wish to hurt Bella or make her mistrust me," Heidi said honestly. "I just want the germane facts."
Carlisle nodded a little and looked at the paper. He cleared his throat and started reading. "'Dear Cullen family. Words cannot express how grateful I am for all you have done for me, or how much I care for you. You've shown me what a real family is supposed to be like, and let me be a part of yours for a short time. It's meant more to me than I can tell you. Please don't worry about me. I left of my own free will, and I did it for a good reason. I wanted to tell you earlier, but I just didn't know how to say it. I feel so ashamed, and afraid. It's best that I go, both so Charlie won't hurt you, and so you don't have to pretend to still like me once you know the full truth. But where to begin? It's so hard to know how to say these things, even now.'"
"Wait a moment," Heidi said, holding up a hand. "Can you explain what she's talking about?"
"We already told you that some of our children found Bella unconscious in the woods one night and brought her here. We kept her with us for a few days to make sure she was unhurt. That was when we made the tape you saw, and started putting calls in to CPS," Esme said quietly, glancing at her husband. "Bella left us the note some time later, after she gave us the baby."
"Is that why it sounds like a runaway note?" Heidi pressed. "Do you know where Bella is?"
"No," Carlisle said on a wistful sigh. "We don't. She's been missing for some time now."
"Charlie thinks you took her."
"I'm not surprised," Carlisle replied. "But we didn't. You're free to search the house, if you wish. Bella isn't here."
"That isn't necessary; I believe you." Heidi hadn't been sure before, but now, sitting with the Cullens, she knew they were not hiding the girl from her father. The fact that they admitted doing so for a few days, and that they were being honest about it, eased her mind. "Please continue?"
Carlisle did. "'I guess I should start back last summer. Charlie had to go to a training program in Seattle, and he took me with him because he doesn't trust me to be alone. We shared a hotel suite with other police officers from around the state. Some of the guys would...say stuff to me, and touch me. Charlie said I wasn't being friendly when I flinched, and I'd be in big trouble if I didn't knock it off.
"'One day one of the guys from Tacoma - an old friend of Charlie's - came back when everyone else was gone. I don't want to talk about it, so please don't make me say any more than that. He said I'd be in trouble if I told. I tried to tell Charlie that evening, but he hit me and told me to stop telling lies. The next day the officer from Tacoma returned...with friends. Charlie must have told him what I said. I'm sorry I couldn't tell you earlier when you asked, but I just want to forget it ever happened. I can't deal with it, and I don't want people to know. I hate when they look at me like my life is over because of this one thing. Maybe they're right, but I keep thinking that if I could start over somewhere, if Charlie let me live, I could maybe just forget it. And if nobody ever knew, then it would be like it never happened.'"
Heidi closed her eyes. This was worse than she had feared. Carlisle's clinical voice reading the young girl's frightened words was eerie and macabre. Poor baby. Heidi knew full well that victims did not often lie about the identity of their abuser, once they had gathered the courage to step forward. So though Chief Swan flatly denied Bella's allegations and called her a conniving little liar, Heidi was not particularly disposed to believe him.
But these new accusations from Bella made it even more vital that they get to the bottom of whatever was going on in the Swan and Cullen households. Bella was clearly talking about a brutal rape - by police officers, no less. And she claimed that her father, also a police officer, had known and done nothing to stop it. While Bella did not actually come out and say that this unknown assailant had fathered her child, it was clear why Carlisle was suspicious. If it was true, Jacob Black must be quite a good friend in order to take the blame. But why had Bella felt the need to lie to the state in the first place? Why hadn't she told Heidi the truth when they first met?
Heidi knew the answer to that one, and she felt her stomach sink. Chief Swan had not allowed her to speak to Bella alone, and of course the child would be far too afraid of her father to admit the truth with him listening in. Of course she had lied. And Heidi, swayed by Chief Swan's title and badge, had not pressed the issue any farther. She felt a vein of guilt slide uneasily through her belly as she thought about that day in the hospital when she first met Isabella Swan. The girl's eyes had been so tired, so wary...her soft, hesitant voice had been little more than a whisper. All the warning signs had been there, everything Heidi had been trained to look for. And she'd let the chief blind her. Because of that, Bella had spent months more living in her father's shadow, terrified. And it had been Heidi's fault.
A cold hand suddenly slid over Heidi's and she blinked herself back to the present, where she sat on a soft white couch in a warm, elegant living room. Esme's lovely golden eyes were sad but steady as she squeezed Heidi's hand. "Don't blame yourself," she said quietly. "What's done is done. Let's move forward together, and try to help Bella."
Heidi nodded. Of course, that was what they needed to do. But what would that entail? The most important thing, from her perspective, was finding Bella. "I appreciate your forthrightness with me," she said honestly. "More than I can say. So many times in my line of work I find people who, for whatever reason, think hiding the truth is better than telling it. So please, I need to know once and for all - do you have any idea where Bella is?"
They both shook their heads at the same time, with no hint of any hesitation. Heidi believed them.
"She left after bringing us the baby," Esme said softly. "We got the note, and that was all. I know she hasn't been at school, and the kids are very worried about her. So are we. She's been hurt so much, and I'm just afraid that she doesn't think anyone can help her."
"I know this is hard to hear if you're close to her at all," Heidi said hesitantly, "but have either of you seen any indication that Bella might be suicidal?"
"I understand why you would ask." Carlisle sat back, the note in his hands. "Wrapping up loose ends, writing notes - it's typical red flags, I'm aware. But I just can't believe Bella would go that far. If nothing else, she hates hurting other people. I mean, really hates it. She knows what it would do to our family if she killed herself, and regardless of how she feels, she wouldn't do that to us."
Esme nodded reluctantly. "I wish I could give a better answer - tell you she was too strong, too much of a fighter to give in like that. But I have to agree with my husband. Bella won't commit suicide, and Carlisle's right about the reason."
Heidi nodded. She'd seen it before, though not often. Most of the time the kids she saw were mistrustful and did not care about who they hurt. But every once in a while she found one like Bella - usually a girl. One too selfless to make good decisions for herself. One so used to thinking of others that she didn't know how to take care of herself.
"We need to find her," Heidi said quietly.
"I agree." Esme sounded near tears.
"Would she go to her mother, do you think? I heard what she said about her life in Arizona in that video, but I can't help wondering whether she would run to something familiar, even if it wasn't necessarily much better than her father's house."
"I called Renee soon after Bella left," Carlisle said. "She said Bella wasn't with her, and I believe her."
"Can I have her number?" Heidi uncapped her pen. "I'd like to double-check."
Carlisle readily gave her a phone number, readily mentioning that it was a cell phone and Renee was, indeed, living out of an RV for the moment, as far as he knew.
"I don't know when or if we'll ever see Bella again," Esme said hesitantly, "but for what it's worth, we'd take her in a heartbeat. I know it's hard to place children as old as she is, and she's so very shy. But we'd take her, even as just a foster while her father goes to trial. If he goes to trial," she corrected herself quickly.
"I've no doubt you would," Heidi said. "And I thank you for that. When we find her," she stressed the when, for Esme's benefit, "she will need a lot of help to heal from whatever's been done to her. Familiar faces would be an invaluable asset."
"And her father?" Carlisle prodded gently.
Heidi sighed. "Taking on a chief of police is way out of my league," she said. "I'm going to have to call in the big guns on this one."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning the Washington State Patrol."
"State Patrol?" Esme raised a dubious eyebrow. "Aren't they just highway traffic enforcers?"
"No, though that is the function you'd see most often." Heidi made more notations on her sheet. "They're the state police - the ones you call when the regular police don't cut it for some reason. They deal with missing persons and Amber Alerts as well. I have some contacts over there, and we'll do our best to get the chief taken care of and Bella home as soon as possible." She paused. "It won't be quick, though. I'm just warning you - taking down a police chief isn't going to be easy or tidy."
"We'll do all we can," Carlisle said quietly, and Esme nodded. "Just tell us what needs to be done, and we'll do what we can."
"The most important thing is finding Bella." Heidi capped her pen and slid her papers back into her bag. This had been an easier discussion than she'd feared. "If you hear from here, please, please contact me right away, and try to convince her to come home. We won't send her back to her father, not while he's under investigation."
"And Mason?" Esme's voice was close to a whisper. Heidi could hear the fear behind those words, and she hastened to soothe it.
"I see no reason to annul the adoption or remove him from your home," she said. "I won't lie to you - there may be a fight later on, if someone challenges on the grounds that you're too close to the situation, too involved. But I'll do my best to make sure it doesn't come to that."
"Thank you," Carlisle said, offering his cold hand. "It means a great deal to know Bella has someone on her side, finally."
"She needs an advocate." Heidi stood and shouldered her bag. She had quite a few phone calls to make. Setting up the takedown of Charlie Swan would not be easy. But she owed it to Bella - that and much, much more, for not having started an inquiry in the first place. "I'll do all I can."
"I know you will," Esme said, guiding her to the door. "And thank you."
Bella shook all day, trembling as she tried to keep her mind on her self-imposed work. But after the fourth time she found herself scrubbing the same section of floor, she gave up. Leaving her bucket and rags where they were, she retreated not to her room, but to the room with the uncomfortable green settee where she had hidden before, on her first fully awake day at Ellison House. Burying her head against the carved wooden side, she let herself cry.
She had no idea what had prompted her to do what she did last night, what made her seek out not only Edward's arms but his body. She'd been frightened, yes. Terrified. But that was no excuse, in her mind. She was always afraid. What had changed, this time? Was it merely that she was alone in this place, by herself, without anyone else except Edward? Had she snapped from the loneliness? Bella didn't know.
She remembered getting out of the bath and dressing for sleep, then sitting in the giant bed and waiting. For the first time since she'd been here, sleep did not come easy. Whether it was the exercise keeping her awake or something else, Bella didn't know. All she knew was that she sat for a long time in the darkness, seeing shadows move as the wind whipped clouds over the moon, hearing the creaks and pops of the old, old house settling around her. Just feeling all those empty rooms full of the discarded remnants of so many lives made her shiver. It was more than unsettling - it was frightening. Slowly, in the darkness, her imagination got the best of her. Every little sound magnified in her mind - the rattle of her window in the breeze, the creak of wood as it contracted in the cold night air. Vampires she did not fear - not now that she had seen them, felt them, knew what they were like. But if vampires existed, what other nightmarish creatures might, as well? Werewolves? Zombies? Ghosts?
The last idea sent a shiver down Bella's spine. As a child she had laughed in the face of violent specters like werewolves. Her real world contained her father, which she found just as violent and much more frightening than any overgrown puppy. But ghosts? Ghosts were something else altogether. They weren't violent, necessarily. But they were frightening all the same. They did not make noise. They crept, they slid - you would not hear them coming. And unlike vampires or zombies, there was no telling exactly what they wanted with you. Just to cause fear? If so, it was working. This was the perfect sort of place for ghosts, Bella thought. So old, old and forgotten. Abandoned. Fear stirred within her at the thought of just how many ghosts might have taken up residence in this place. How many? Bella didn't know. But even one was too many for her. Vampires she could handle. She really didn't care what the Cullens ate; they were good people. She didn't think anything could possibly make her like a ghost, though.
And all those thoughts whirling in her head had created a perfect storm of fear. Grimacing now as she remembered, Bella hid her head against the settee. But hiding her eyes did nothing to stop the pictures in her head as she recalled dropping from her bed and running out of the room - away from the eyes she felt watching her, from the feeling that made the fine hairs on the back of her neck rise. But the hallway had been no better, and she had collapsed with her back against the wall, hiding her face in her arms and hoping that the ghosts of Carlisle's old house would take pity on her and leave her alone.
Then Edward had come.
The relief of another person's presence was overwhelming, and Bella remembered clutching his cold body tightly to hers, begging him not to leave her alone. She hated herself for it now, for being so weak. But things that happened in the dark of night couldn't always be explained rationally in the daytime. She understood that well enough.
But she could not forgive herself for what she had done.
She had essentially taken advantage of him, after ignoring him for weeks. She had forced herself on him, and Edward had not refused her. Now, stomach churning unhappily, Bella had to live with the consequences of her actions. She'd woken confused and disoriented, swathed in Edward's sweet scent, with a mild headache and a delicious sort of ache elsewhere in her body. The indent of Edward's body on the bed was clear, and Bella swallowed heavily as bits and pieces of the night before slid back into her memory.
Then she had done something that was possibly even more unforgivable. She ran.
She ran out of his room, out of the house, and sat trembling against the stone wall for a long time, shivering in the early morning chill. It was late fall - damp and cold. For a long time she sat, wondering if Edward would come looking for her.
He had not.
So finally she forced herself inside, forgoing breakfast and instead trying to work out her confusion the only way she was able - by cleaning. But it just wasn't working.
God, she wanted Esme. Or Rosalie. Either would work at this point. She wanted an older female to hold her, to rock her gently and explain everything she was feeling in a way that made sense. Because none of it made sense to her, and there was no one to help her through it.
She was still angry with Edward - that had not changed. But through the anger, she was now starting to feel some doubt. Yes, he had stolen her. Drugged her, even, to keep her quiet as he kidnapped her. But he'd done it out of love, hadn't he? For her own good?
Bella remembered the sweet tenderness of his amber eyes when he looked at her - how he'd rescued her from Alice's ministrations, and promised that she would always be safe with him. The innocent way he asked what comprised her perfect day in Forks, before he knew the extent of her father's abuse. Her body yearned for his - not just sexually, but in every way possible. She felt safe when he was near her. Protected. Wanted. She loved watching his mouth move as he spoke, loved hearing his voice vibrate down her spine when he whispered against her skin. She wanted everything he was - wanted to be whatever he needed her to be. The fact that he was a vampire really didn't bother her in the least.
But no matter how much she enjoyed being cuddled and held in his strong grasp, Bella could not deny that her body wanted his. She craved his mouth, adored how it felt when she let herself go and really felt his skin against hers. His cool, smooth kiss made her body ache, and the way his eyes darkened when he caught the scent of her left her putty in his hands.
So it was no real surprise to her that, under the stress of extreme loneliness, she gave in to the feel of his body against hers. She only wished that this first time - the first time she willingly gave her body to another person - hadn't ended up so confusing. Bella knew full well that she was not a prissy girl. She didn't want scented candles and satin sheets, didn't want ridiculous lingerie or romantic ballads playing in the background. But she had wanted...she didn't know. Something else. Something other than this. Something other than waking up alone the next morning, confusion and fear lancing through her foggy brain. Something other than running from the person she wanted to trust more than anyone else in the world.
So what had happened? Bella banged her forehead against the settee several times in frustration, because she still had no answer to the question. She could say that she'd been frightened of ghosts, that she'd wanted Edward's body for some time now, and that she ran because she was confused. But that didn't seem like a good enough answer - it didn't seem like a full answer. It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the complete truth either.
This was when she desperately craved the presence of an older woman to help her muddle through the riot of emotions and make sense of everything. Esme or Rosalie could tell her in an instant what she was missing, she was sure. Why had Edward taken them away from her, just when she felt she needed them most?
But... Bella sat up, wiping her eyes. She'd left them first. It wasn't a revelation - she'd willingly admitted to leaving first, never denied it. But what if...what if they took offense, even after her letter? What if they truly didn't want her anymore?
Her thoughts had been eased on that point when Edward came for her, and she hadn't really worried about it since waking up in Ellison House. But he was the only Cullen she had seen or heard from since then. What if he was the only one who still wanted her? What if he had removed her from Forks because the rest of his family had washed their hands of her? Bella felt a bright, hot seam of panic rip through her chest, and she bolted hastily from the room. Running along dusty hallways she had not yet cleaned, tears blurring her vision but not falling, she searched for Edward's scent. She wasn't quite clear about exactly where he'd taken her last night - his room, presumably, though where that was in relation to her, she didn't know. Not that she was thinking rationally enough to retrace her steps, anyway. Her breath caught in her throat as she twisted through a doorway and then down a flight of steps, cobwebs clinging to her face and outstretched arms. She tripped, arms windmilling, and fell down the rest of the short stairway.
Catching her breath at the bottom of the stairs, Bella finally found what she'd been searching for. Not Edward, but at least the smoky-sweet scent that told her he'd been here fairly recently. She had no doubt his senses were far more acute than hers, but she could still smell when he'd been near. Scrubbing cobwebs furiously from her face, Bella scrambled to her feet and eased open the door in front of her.
It was a library.
Her breath caught - not in pain this time, but in awe. The room was two stories tall, and the shelves reached to the ceiling. Tall windows stood on either side of a massive fireplace, the hearth cold and dark. Bella looked for a lightswitch but found none. There were several oil lamps coated thickly with dust, though. She wondered if they would work if she managed to clean them and find fuel.
She stepped further into the room, her brown eyes big and wide as she gazed around her. She couldn't see much in the fitful light spilling in through the door, and she hesitantly stepped toward the drapes. They felt like old velvet in her hands, heavy and stiff, and dust fell in drifts, making her sneeze, as she tugged experimentally on a pale gold tasseled cord. With a stiff, unhappy screech, the drapery moved slowly aside. The overcast daylight looked bright as June in the dark room, and Bella quickly opened the other set of drapes as well. Light flooded, sharp and cool, into the corners of the room. Now that she could see, Bella took a proper look around.
What she saw made it hard to breathe again. Books, books everywhere. A catwalk ringed the upper level, with a small, curly metal staircase hiding in one corner, giving access to the upper level. It looked rather like there were proper shelves and aisles up there, though the lower level was just a large room absolutely walled with books. Cedar chests sat below the tall windows, and Bella wondered what was in them. It was clear that a painting had once hung above the tall mantel - there was a rectangle of brighter wall, where soot and daylight had not darkened or faded it. Bella wondered what the picture had been of, and why it had been removed. Had Edward done so? Carlisle? Her fingers itched to touch the bounty of books, but Bella held herself back for a few minutes, taking deep breaths of their comforting smell. Even in this old house so far away from everything she knew, the smell was the same. Slightly sweet, slightly vanilla - smell of dust, and paper, and glue, and leather bindings. Maybe a hint of old mildew, powdered and dry.
The familiar, beloved smell helped calm her, and Bella sighed happily, feeling her heart settling down. Here, surrounded by books that were just waiting to become new friends, she didn't need to worry about whether Esme and Rosalie had given up on her. She didn't need to worry about what Edward might think of her now that she had thrown herself at him and then run away. Her head swirled with the possibility of losing herself in this room and never coming out again - not until Edward let her go home, at least. There were enough books here to last a lifetime, and then some, even at the rate she read.
Taking a breath, Bella bit her lip, chewing on it as she thought. She wanted to clean this room up, get it looking beautiful. She would make it hers, since nobody seemed to want it. Poor things, she thought, looking at a row of books covered in thick layers of dust and cobweb. They'd been forgotten. Abandoned. Well, she wouldn't do the same. She hurried from the room, leaving the door wide open and committing the route from the library to the kitchen to memory. Grabbing new rags and the second bucket, she mixed a soapy solution and lugged the heavy mess back to the library.
Humming happily, Bella dampened - just barely dampened - a rag and began her task. Luckily there was a rolling library ladder to help her reach the higher shelves. More content than she could remember ever being in this house, Bella took great care of each book. She pulled each from its shelf, wiping down every inch, then stacked the books carefully on a dusty rug. After a shelf was cleared she dusted and cleaned it before returning the books in exactly the same order in which she found them. She dripped a little water into a dried-up inkwell she found in the drawer of a desk, and that seemed to make an ink that worked well enough. With thick parchment and a little metal-nibbed pen, she scribbled a hasty inventory of the books shelf by shelf, so she knew where things were in case she ever tried to find them again. Only then did she allow herself a few minutes to browse each clean shelf, opening books she'd never heard of and reading bits and pieces, tempted to read on but knowing other books needed her attention, too. From one shelf she pulled something called The Worm Ouroboros, opened it randomly, and read aloud, murmuring words that made a thrill of delight run up and down her spine: "'O Queen, somewhat I know of grammarie and divine philosophy, yet must I bow to thee for such learning, that dwellest here from generation to generation and dost commune with the dead.'" Had there ever been anything more likely to make one think of ghosts? Bella thought not.
Every once in a while, Bella came across titles or authors that she had either read or heard of. That made her smile, and she touched each of those books even more reverently, as if meeting again with an old friend. "'There was no possibility of taking a walk that day,'" Bella quoted to herself softly as she took down what looked to be a first-edition of Jane Eyre. Close by were a cluster of Austen novels, and more Bronte. All of it made her smile widely.
And then she found them. Tucked away on the lowest shelf in a dark corner under the overhanging catwalk were a row of identical books bound in black leather. Curious, Bella took the first from its shelf, dutifully dusted it with the damp cloth, and opened it. The binding was firm - very unusual for something as old as it looked - and it snapped and cracked like a new book in her hands. At first she thought she must have damaged it, but after further inspection it looked as if these books simply had not been opened often.
Turning the pages, Bella realized why. They were diaries. Carlisle's diaries. And they dated back to the 1700's. Her hands shook a little as she stared at words that probably had not been read since the patriarch of the Cullen family wrote them centuries ago. For a moment she thought about putting the book away. Surely they were private? Resolutely, she began cleaning the rest of them. But her hands itched as each new, thick book of Carlisle's words was added to the pile. And when the shelf was clean, she couldn't help herself any longer. She chose a volume near the middle of the stack, carefully placing the others back on the shelf and marking where the one in her hands belonged. Opening it at random, she read.
I did not know I could do it until I tried, and even now both elation and hunger war within me. I did not know how strongly the taste of human blood would affect me, but now I do. Pulling back from that poor boy's throat was the hardest thing I have ever done.
Whomever might find these books, sometime in the future - you may think of me what you will. I offer no false pretenses as to what I am and the sins I have committed. But please believe me when I say this: I would not have bitten the boy but for his mother's plea. I am a doctor. I am sworn to uphold the sanctity of human life and relieve human suffering. And she was a pretty thing, even in the last stages of influenza. Her husband already dead, all she had left was her only child. Her son. She begged me to do everything in my power - everything I could - to save him. Her pretty green eyes were wild with fever, and I do not know whether she knew I was a doctor. The way she raved, I am more than a little afraid she thought she was making a deal with the devil.
But I have been to Hell and back, and I have seen no devil. It is my belief he lives only within human hearts.
I agreed with everything she wanted, if only to stop her raving. I didn't think about it then, did not realize exactly what I had vowed. She fell into a fitful sleep and died soon after, her son too ill to mourn her. It was only then, standing over him, that I knew what I had done. I had promised a dead woman that I would save her son by any means necessary. An unbreakable vow, some might say. And the boy was fading fast. He was not raving and thrashing like his mother, but lay there quietly burning - spent, his body too weak to fight the specter of death looming over his bed. Medicine has grown astonishingly during my long lifetime, but even now in 1918 there is nothing any doctor could do to save the boy.
And so it was not the doctor, but the vampire, that rescued him. If rescue it truly is. I moved him to a secluded part of the hospital, where the smell of so many humans in such close proximity would not tempt me so badly. There it was that I bit him.
Judge me all you like, you reader of the future, but I could not break my promise to his mother and there was nothing else I could do to save him. I know nothing of the person he was before the influenza outbreak, or what kind of person he will be after the change. He may turn out to be a companion, which I would gladly welcome. After leaving Italy, life has been...lonely. I have colleagues, patients...but no one can know the truth of what I am, and I have to keep moving, always moving, always watching to see when people will start to notice my differences. It would be nice to have a friend.
But I am getting ahead of myself. He thrashes now, where he did not before. The poison is flowing through his body, changing it, making it something other than human. I have seen this happen before, but never have I been the cause. The doctor in me wishes to inject him full of opiates, to immerse him in cold water, but the vampire understands that none of this will help. He opens his mouth as if too scream, but it is too dry to make a sound. When he wakes, which will be soon, will he revile me for what I have done to him? Will he expose our secret? Will he try to kill himself, as I tried so many times, only to learn that it is impossible?
Only time can tell. Already he is pale as death, his pleasantly boyish features turning sharper, more defined. I lifted an eyelid a few moments ago to check pupil reaction. His irises are red. It will not be long now. It will be easy enough to dress him as an orderly and sneak him off the ward, but where we will go then I do not know. Somewhere without humans. Somewhere he can recover and learn control, as I have learned it. I did not change him merely to unleash another murderer on this Earth. No - he must learn to feed on animals, as I learned. It is not the easy way. But it is the right way. I pray he will see that.
Bella stopped there, her mind in a daze. This boy Carlisle spoke of...it was Edward. She had no doubt. Though she did not know the details of his life, she knew it had to be him. Esme had said at one point that Carlisle already had Edward with him before he changed her. Edward was the first, Carlisle's first son and companion.
The enormity of the realization made Bella sit back, leaning on a shelf and letting the book close gently in her lap. Edward's parents had died during the Spanish Influenza outbreak in the early 1900's. She vaguely remembered hearing about it in history class. People had died in droves, and nobody knew why. Doctors could do little - people either died or recovered. Mostly they died.
And Edward had been one of the casualties.
No, not really. Not quite. Carlisle had saved him, at his mother's request. She had had green eyes, Carlisle wrote. Had Edward, once upon a time? When he was human? Her heart suddenly ached for the scared boy in the hospital who probably had no idea where his parents were, whether they were alive or dead, or whether he would also succumb to the sickness depopulating his city. Something of that boy still remained in the quiet man she knew as Edward. She'd seen him.
And Carlisle? So many questions flooded Bella's mind. How had he been changed, and why? When had he lived in Italy, and for what reasons? How had he come to the U.S.? She felt the overwhelming urge to grab the first volume of Carlisle's diary and begin reading, gulping paragraphs like cold water in July, searching each word for clues, for information. How had the Cullens become the family they were today? What secrets were they still hiding?
Bella forced herself to calm, and she put the book back on the shelf with its brothers. No, not just yet. She would finish cleaning the library first - find fuel for the lamps, and wood for the fireplace. She would make this room livable, and then she would begin her journey into the past. She would continue cleaning, spending her mornings working on the house and her afternoons in here, when the light would be strongest through these windows. Afternoons could stretch into evenings, evenings into full night...she would have to scrounge up a blanket to bring in here, and maybe some of the pillows off her bed. She certainly didn't need them all to sleep on. In fact, at the moment, going back to her room to sleep did not sound at all like a pleasant idea. It was ridiculous, she knew, but she was still afraid.
Lightning. Woodsmoke. Bella breathed the familiar scent deeply into her lungs before lifting her head. Edward stood in the doorway.
A/N: Aaaaand that seems like a pretty good place to stop this time, doesn't it? Quotes were taken from The Worm Ouroboros by Eric Rucker Eddison, and Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte. (Um, both those authors have umlauts somewhere in their names, but this website doesn't like when I try to insert them into text.) Till next time, duckies!
Oh, one last thing. Anyone here know what's up with Twilighted? I submitted the first chapter of this, like, six weeks ago and haven't heard anything from them yet. Are they just way behind on submissions, or is ignoring how they say you're not good enough? They make me kinda nervous over there with all their rules and stuff!