This wasn't actually part of the FGB outtakes auctioned for, but TeamTUS has waited so long – I apologize so much, and you'll get them as soon as I can get them to you - so I wanted to give something extra. Well, months back, I was in a bad way, separated from my husband for four months. We got back together, & it just didn't work, and I'll leave it at that. My lovely beta, MariahajilE, decided to post a note about me taking a hiatus so that I could get things settled for me & my three children.
Unfortunately, there were a few people who, quite honestly, acted more than rude to me. I was called a flake, amongst other things, for having her post the note, which she kindly offered to do on her own.
I do this for free, and I owe no one ANYTHING. I'm sorry if my RL problems interferes with your updates, but my RL will always come first. That's it, and that's all. Now, for those of you who have been so gracious and understanding, this here is for you. I will finish my stories. You don't need to worry about that, but right now, I'm just not mentally in a place to write. I'll be back, but once my FF's are finished, I won't write for the fandom any longer. This was the final straw for me. I love you all, and I appreciate the support you've given me, but all good things come to an end. So, once TUS, CF and FK are done, so am I.
I do not own anything twilight, but Abandonward is mine.
Minor abuse warning in this.
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The Unaccompanied Soul
Surprise FGB Outtake
"I'd Come For You"
And I'd fight for you
I'd lie, it's true
Give my life for you
You know I'd always come for you
Marcus POV
"Damn kids."
Another broken window to match the many others I had to replace. Yet, this one I'd just fixed not twenty-four hours prior. And I was getting tired of all the littering going on. If it wasn't trash, weapons, paraphernalia and empty alcohol bottles, it was graffiti lining the inner and outer walls of the hospital.
I told myself it was a waste of time to get this here place, but something about it called to me, like it actually felt empty, ostracized, and needed someone to give it some life again.
I could relate to that.
I'd been alone a long time now. No family to speak of, really, other than my parents, and we just weren't on speaking terms much. When a son didn't follow in his father's footsteps… Well, he could be a disappointment. And, in my case, sometimes disappointments are better left forgotten.
Had me a wife once, though, and Stella was her name. She was graceful, compassionate. She was my beautiful one, but I didn't do her right. She loved me as much as any woman could love her man, but I was about the gambling, telling myself I was trying to give us a better life, and that became an addiction. Truthfully, I was about myself. Had been for a long time. Came home one day, hitting it pretty big on the blackjack, but the house was empty, lifeless.
Those bright eyes weren't there to meet me at the door, no soft, loving words to welcome me into a warm home, no arms that wrapped around me, even when I just gave a small pat on the back in return. It's amazing what you miss once it's gone, once it's no longer there to appreciate.
A better man would have noticed that light disappearing in her eyes, would have seen the way she curled up inside herself. And all I had to do was give her the love in return that she gave me. I did love her, loved her with my whole heart, but I guess I got lost in the fact that if I made us some real money, I could do right by her, give her the world if I wanted. And all she wanted was my attention.
I was a damn fool.
So, there I was, taking care of this old hospital. I'd invested some of my winnings, and, once the folks died, being that I was the only child, I was left everything. Can't say that I wasn't surprised by that. I didn't expect anything.
I'd passed the hospital numerous times, and, every time, my head would turn, and I'd gaze at the place, imagining what it used to be. And every single time my eyes stared at that vacant building, it pleaded with me. Could have been my mind, but I swear it did.
So I bought it.
Crazy notion, yeah, but I did it anyhow. I couldn't fix my wife, couldn't bring back her light, but maybe I could bring back the light the hospital once had. I had nothing else but going home to an empty place, where you could feel the cold, vacant space before you even stepped inside. So, time was what I was left with, and I decided to use it for something good. Maybe I could turn this hospital into a place that gave people like me second chances.
I heard Stella died about four years ago to cancer, but the light I'd taken was given back. She found a good man, one who stayed with her until the end. She made him seek me out to tell me she'd forgiven me. Of all the things in the world, that was her dying wish.
No one could ever measure up to the heart that woman carried inside her.
I could see it in his eyes that he was a good man, loved her just the way she deserved, and her forgiveness was more than what I deserved, but she gave it anyway. I said my thanks, and he went on his way. Never saw him again.
For three years, I did odds and ends around the place. I wasn't much of a handyman, but I promised myself that any fixing that was done would be done by my hands alone. It was my penance, I guess. Somehow, I had to make right what was wrong.
Seemed that whatever I got working, some kid would come along and destroy it all over again. I was getting nowhere. But the good Lord always has a plan, that much I knew, and He wasn't giving me anything more than He thought I could handle.
So, I'd go back to fixing what was broken, but I can't say that there wasn't some cursing while I was doing it.
Every day was the same as the one before it. I'd get up, stock my lunch pail with food for the day, and make the drive to the hospital. Then, I'd go home to nothing.
I pulled in one morning, and something about the air around the place had changed, filled a little. I guess I thought I carried that emptiness with me, so it tended to affect everywhere I was. But I felt the change as sure as the beat of my heart.
My first thought was that some kid was inside, vandalizing the place. I smiled, thinking I was gonna catch the little shit this time. Maybe I'd give him a good scare, too.
Stepping through that broken door, telling myself for the thousandth time I needed to get to fixing it, I crept as quietly as my worn legs would allow me.
I entered the hall on the second floor, hearing odd noises coming from one of the rooms further down the hallway. Couldn't really explain the way the noises sounded, but it was almost like someone's soul was crying out their agony. Pain that deep has an almost serrated tone to it. And it scared the hell out of me.
My mind realized there was no vandalism going on. Someone was hurt. And it was here in my hospital where I had no damn clue what to do for them.
I followed the sounds, leading me to the inside of a room that I'd mostly cleared out. There were a few old, torn sheets and molded papers scattered around, chipped paint and water spots on the cement floor, but cleaner than most the other rooms. The lighting wasn't real good, so I didn't see him at first, but the gasp of fear he made had my eyes locking right onto him.
There was a boy huddled in the corner of the room. I stepped closer, and I swear he shrieked in pain, as if I'd beaten him... or was about to. I stopped moving, my heart hammering in my chest, and stared at the boy, bewildered about what to say or do… or even why he was there.
He was clawing at the wall, trying to find a way to get inside or hoping that wall would surround him. As my eyes adjusted to the dull lighting, I noticed a mangled bear within his hands. He clutched onto it like it was his protector, a guardian that kept the monsters away.
I couldn't see his face just yet, but I knew something awful had been done to the lad. "It's okay, Lad. I ain't gonna hurt ya. I'll stay right here, so you know you're safe with me. I won't come any closer."
I had no idea if my words could reach those tortured ears of his, if he could even understand me, but I hoped and prayed he knew that whoever put the fear of God in him, making him seem almost animalistic with terror running through him, they weren't there, and he had nothing to worry about from me.
He kept trying to climb against the wall, holding onto the bear, awful sounds coming from those lips of his. Guessing from his size, he was barely a teenager. I had no idea what to do for him, and I figured maybe I'd call in the police. I had no idea if he'd been kidnapped, if someone from home made him the way he was. No clue at all. But I couldn't leave him where he was.
"Listen here, Lad," I whispered. "I'm gonna call for some help, okay? We'll get someone here to come get you and-"
The screaming started, so loud it pierced my ears painfully. He clawed so hard at the wall, I could see that he was tearing at his fingernails, making them bleed.
My soul ached for the child.
There was no rhyme or reason to what I said next, other than I wanted his pain to stop. In that second, I felt tethered to him, like he was brought to my doorstep for a reason, and God wanted me to help him. Maybe helping him was part of my salvation.
"It's okay. I'm not gonna call anyone. I swear it. You can stay right there. No one's coming for you."
It was only then, when I told him no one was coming, his rigid torso eased moderately. I had no damn clue what I was doing, even offering to let him stay in a place that was not sanitary enough for him. But there was no way he was going to let me near him, and the idea of getting someone else involved? Terrified wasn't adequate enough of a word to describe his emotions. And, if I did, what would they do to him? Would they lock that poor boy up? I couldn't say I was comfortable with that at all.
Maybe if I could tend to him for a bit, then I could get him somewhere better, safer. I disappeared long enough to get some water and bandages from the first-aid kit. I pushed them near him, hoping he'd understand what I was trying to do.
He turned his head slightly, an eye peeking out underneath the dirty hair that had been long overdue for a cut. But I could see, as he looked at me, the mark of a handprint. Someone had taken their hand to that boy's face, so hard they marked him.
That mark had me looking more thoroughly, and, sure enough, there were bruises on the arm I could see, and God only knew where else. I felt sick to my stomach, anger beyond anything I had ever felt.
A voice inside my head told me to protect him. That voice was loud and clear, pulsing through every nerve inside of me. I think it was my Stella, telling me this was my second chance, and I was gonna listen.
For several days, I talked to him, soothing him with words I wasn't sure helped. And I wasn't really much good with words, anyway. I was out of my element, but I had to do something for him, to show him I'd never hurt him.
"You're safe here, Lad," I told him. "I don't know if you can understand me, but I promise that whoever hurt you will never hurt you again."
There was a small room adjacent to the boiler room meant for caretakers. I cleaned it up real nice… Well, as nice as I could given the state it was in, but I put a mattress in there, other supplies he might need, even clothing I hoped would fit. Day by day, I told him about the room, how to get there, how nice it would be for him, how much safer it was.
Even though he didn't really eat, I gave him three meals a day, hoping to put meat on those skinny bones of his. He looked liked he'd been starved, and I couldn't very well have him starving under my care. I cleaned up a stall in the restroom closest to the boiler room especially for him, hoping he'd use it whenever he needed. I let him know it was at his disposal, that anything I had was.
I found myself coming to the hospital a lot more than usual, most times sleeping outside in my vehicle, because the idea of leaving him alone was a little more than I was comfortable with.
Nearly a week after I'd first found him, I crawled out of my truck, my muscles achy from restless sleep. Every little noise had me waking up, making sure no one was entering the hospital. I wasn't about to let someone find him and do something that might cause him more mental or physical damage.
He might've been petrified, but he wasn't insane. I could feel it. He was just lost, and I wanted to help find him.
I headed straight to the place the boy always was, but, this time, he wasn't there. Initially, I was terrified, wondering if something happened to him, if someone had found him while I'd been asleep. What if it was the same someone he'd been hiding from?
God, please let him be okay. Don't let someone have taken him from me.
I searched up and down that hospital, practically running down those stairs to the boiler room on shaky legs, knocking things over in my haste. The door to the caretaker's room had always been open, but this time it was shut.
I walked up to that door, placing my hand on the metal, and I swear I felt him inside there. I couldn't help but smile, because I knew then he understood me. He was inside there, where he was safe.
I blanketed the doorway, hiding him so he couldn't be found, not until he was ready. I wasn't going to let anyone or anything hurt him. And once he was ready to leave, I was going to let him. Maybe he'd even want to come stay with me if he had no other place to go. Until then, I was going to take care of him, reach out to him with words and whatever other means I could offer, make sure he had everything he needed.
That same voice, the one that told me to protect him, told me I was going to love him like a son. Somehow, deep in my soul, I knew that voice was right.
